The Eerie Mask, The Mantis Stalks the Cicada

He lowered his head and glanced at the Human-Faced Dog, which wore the scalp of a balding man with pale skin.

The bizarre Human-Skin Dog lowered its breathing, sniffed, and then, in an utterly uncanny gesture, nodded like a person.

Mr. Li's smile seemed to grow even more brazen. He strode forward decisively, his footsteps silent, and swung the curved skinning Pointed Knife in his hand straight at the figure's neck.

"Shrrk!" The blade was barely as long as a finger, but the Pointed Knife was razor-sharp. It sliced through the cloth held aloft with ease, and the thing behind it was torn open as well, splitting apart and flipping outward in an instant.

But as the fabric slowly slid down, another huge piece of cloth drifted to the ground with it.

It looked as though it had been cut into a human shape, and somehow had actually taken on a person's size and firmness.

Now that it had been slashed open, it slowly returned to normal.

"Whoosh!" As the fabric fell, a sudden rush of air rose from below, its sound inexplicably nerve-racking.

A somewhat heavy bronze sword, a metal prop, swept aside the two torn pieces of cloth. In the blink of an eye, it smacked into Mr. Li's shin.

"Thud! Crack..." The sharp impact and the bone-cracking sound that sent a chill through the heart rang out almost simultaneously.

"Ah!" Mr. Li screamed, his whole body lurching violently.

After sweeping the sword through, Zhang Anzai promptly rolled out from beneath the worktable and slammed into him.

"Thud!" The two of them tumbled away and fell to the floor.

Mr. Li wasn't exactly frail, but he certainly wasn't burly either. Zhang Anzai, meanwhile, had grown much stronger thanks to all the training he'd been doing lately.

On top of that, the blow had landed solidly. He hadn't used [World Breaker], but he had hit the shin—a fragile yet critical part of the body.

With a bone broken, Mr. Li couldn't put weight on one foot, so Zhang Anzai knocked him down with ease.

"Thud!" The airflow stirred up by the two men shifted the scraps of cloth and thread scattered across the floor.

The pain in Mr. Li's leg made him curl up slightly, his face contorted in agony.

But the one who seemed most shaken was Zhang Anzai, staring at the sight before him.

The dim, not-quite-bright lights in the studio shone on the man lying before him. After knocking Mr. Li down, Zhang Anzai had promptly gotten back to his feet, giving him a clear view.

Above Mr. Li's neck, his skin seamlessly transformed into something else.

Its normal color had shifted toward brown, even black. It was anything but smooth—instead, it was pitted and uneven, with loose patches of dead skin clinging here and there, while other areas looked completely moistureless, shriveled and hardened.

Swollen blisters mingled with patches of completely dead skin. The unmistakable appearance of severe burns covered the entire area, from his chin all the way to his scalp.

It was clearly the head of someone horribly burned. Even his eyes looked shrunken and bloodshot, as if scorched by smoke and flames.

After just one glance, Zhang Anzai had a pretty good idea what he was looking at: another eerie human-skin mask. But how could it look so real...?

It wasn't that the mask was made of some other material and merely looked convincing. Its texture was unmistakably human skin.

The problem was that the skin fit Mr. Li's face perfectly.

Not his nostrils, his eyes, or any other feature showed the slightest flaw. There wasn't even a seam to be found.

Some of the blisters on the mask's surface were even oozing pus, or blood from beneath the skin.

It was as if this really was Mr. Li's own skin, and it hadn't been long since it was burned like this.

Of course, this wasn't the time to stand around in shock. He had finally managed to knock the guy down with some advance preparation. If he failed to seize the opportunity, he might never get another chance to ambush him.

"Whoosh!" Zhang Anzai swung the Bronze Sword in his hand. But halfway through the swing, he immediately turned his head and decisively redirected his attack.

"Thud!" The Bronze Sword slammed into the back of a figure that had suddenly sprung out.

"Ah!" The Human-Headed Dog let out a horribly unsettling human scream and was sent flying.

Zhang Anzai had only swung the sword halfway when the dog suddenly leaped out, forcing him to deal with it first.

The Human-Headed Dog's bones were broken, its back and half its chest caved in deeply. It lay on the ground, whimpering, its face twisted into a ghastly expression.

But Zhang Anzai had no chance to follow up. Instead, he immediately turned and ran outside.

"Whoosh!" Mr. Li's Pointed Knife sliced across his clothes, and the smell of something scorched suddenly filled the air.

In the moment the Human-Headed Dog had held Zhang Anzai up, Mr. Li had already sat up.

If Zhang Anzai hadn't chosen to run at once, that knife would likely have cut into his abdomen.

As Zhang Anzai shoved past the worktable and the hanging fabrics on his way out, he glanced down at his clothes.

They had been cut, but for some reason, the torn edges were charred black, as if they had been burned.

When the fabric brushed against the skin along his side, he could even feel a little warmth, as though it had just been scorched.

What's going on? Zhang Anzai recalled Mr. Li sitting on the floor and swinging his knife at him. Could it be that knife?

That was his first thought, but he soon recalled the human-skin mask stuck to Mr. Li's face as he swung, its expression twisted into a ferocious grin.

The mask had been severely burned.

Zhang Anzai immediately formed a few suspicions, but for now, he had no chance to think them through.

I nearly crippled one of his legs, but he's still the dungeon boss. Limping doesn't mean he can't fight...

Zhang Anzai only had one illusion skill, one charged normal attack, and a paper-cutting ability that wasn't much use for attacking, so he didn't dare get overconfident.

"Thud!" As he ran out, he slapped the door shut behind him.

The corridor outside was still gloomy. Doors lined both sides, some completely closed, others half-open. The sight was deeply unsettling, as if something might leap out of any of them at any moment.

Zhang Anzai glanced around, then decisively swung the long sword in his hand. "Crack!"

He knocked a hole in the gray wall beside him.

"Crack, crack, crack!" He chipped off a large chunk of wall plaster, along with a few bits of brick.

The Bronze Sword in his hand had sustained considerable damage from the blow. It had even bent a little, but it was worth it.

The man and the dog had both been injured, but their movements were merely slowed. Sooner or later, they would come after him. To find a way out in this storeroom, which was most likely locked tight, he needed to make some preparations first.

Good thing... the room doors here aren't perfectly symmetrical from side to side. After setting the chunk of debris in place, Zhang Anzai stood up.

"Crack!" He smashed the glass and bulb of the green emergency-exit light in the corridor with all his strength. It went out with a snap, plunging the entire hallway into darkness.