The Strange Mask, Mantis Stalks Cicada

He lowered his head to glance at the Human-Faced Dog, which was draped in the scalp of a hairless man with pale skin.

The grotesque, skin-clad dog lowered its breathing, sniffed the air, and then, with an eerie mimicry of human behavior, nodded its head.

Mr. Li's smile seemed to grow even more brazen. He stepped forward with silent, decisive strides, arrived before the silhouette, and swung the recurve skinning knife in his hand, aiming a strike directly at the neck.

"Swish!" The blade was no longer than a finger, yet it was razor-sharp. It sliced through the fabric held in the figure's hand with ease, tearing through whatever lay behind it, instantly ripping it open and splitting it in two.

However, as the fabric slowly slid away, another massive sheet of cloth drifted down along with it.

It appeared to have been cut into the shape of a human, and for some unknown reason, it possessed the actual build and rigidity of a person.

Now that it had been slashed open, it slowly began to revert to its original form.

"Whoosh!" As the fabric fell, a sound of rushing wind that inexplicably set one's nerves on edge suddenly erupted from below.

A somewhat heavy bronze prop sword swept aside the two torn pieces of cloth and, in the blink of an eye, struck Mr. Li's lower leg.

"Bang! Crack..." The violent impact and the bone-shattering sound that made one's heart run cold arrived almost simultaneously.

"Ah!" Mr. Li let out a miserable shriek, his entire body swaying violently.

Having finished that strike, Zhang Anzai rolled out from beneath the workbench and slammed directly into him.

"Thud!" The two tumbled, both crashing to the ground.

Although Mr. Li's frame could not be called thin, it was certainly not robust, whereas Zhang Anzai had grown quite strong from his recent diligent training.

Coupled with the fact that the blow had landed solidly—and while he hadn't used World Breaker, it had struck a fragile and critical point like the lower leg—the bone had shattered, and Mr. Li's footing was inevitably compromised, making it easy for him to be knocked over.

"Thump!" The fabric and loose threads on the floor were stirred slightly by the air currents generated by the two men.

Mr. Li curled up slightly due to the excruciating pain in his leg, his face twisted in agony.

Yet, the one who seemed to suffer the greatest shock was Zhang Anzai, who was now staring at the scene before him.

The studio's dim lighting shone upon the man sprawled on the ground. After knocking him down, Zhang Anzai had scrambled up immediately, allowing him to see everything clearly.

From the neck up, Mr. Li's skin had seamlessly transformed into something else entirely.

It had shifted from a normal complexion to a brownish, almost black hue. It was far from smooth; instead, it was pitted and cratered, with patches of dead skin clinging on as if ready to peel away, while other areas were shriveled and hardened as if completely devoid of moisture.

Swollen blisters and completely necrotic skin were intermingled, clearly indicating severe burns that covered the entire area from his chin to his scalp.

This was unmistakably a severely burned head, with eyes that were bloodshot and shrunken from the effects of smoke and fire.

Zhang Anzai only had to look once to guess that this was likely another bizarre skin mask: But this is too realistic...

It wasn't that the material was some kind of imitation or that it was crafted to look like skin; the texture was undeniably that of real human flesh.

The problem was that this skin fit Mr. Li's actual face with terrifying precision.

Whether it was the nostrils, the eyes, or any other junction, there were no flaws to be found; there were no visible seams at all.

Even the surface of the mask was oozing pus from the blisters or blood from beneath the skin.

It was as if this were Mr. Li's own skin, as if it had been burned like this only moments ago.

Of course, this was no time for him to be stunned. He had finally managed to knock this guy down through careful preparation; if he lost his grip now, it would be difficult to find such an opportunity for a sneak attack again.

"Whoosh!" Zhang Anzai swung his bronze sword back, but just as he put his strength into the swing, he immediately turned his head and decisively shifted the direction of his attack.

"Bang!" The bronze sword hacked fiercely into the back of a figure that had suddenly lunged out.

"Ah!" The Human-Faced Dog let out a miserable, hauntingly human scream before flying backward.

Just as Zhang Anzai had swung his sword halfway, the dog had suddenly lunged, forcing him to deal with it first.

The Human-Faced Dog's bones snapped, its spine and half of its ribcage caved in deeply, and it lay on the ground whimpering, its face twisted in a hideous expression.

However, Zhang Anzai had no chance to press his advantage; instead, he immediately turned and ran toward the exit.

"Whoosh!" The knife Mr. Li swung sliced through his clothes, and a smell of scorched fabric instantly filled the air.

In the split second Zhang Anzai had been delayed by the dog, Mr. Li had already sat up.

Had he not chosen to run away immediately, that blade would likely have already sliced open his abdomen.

As Zhang Anzai shoved aside the workbench and hanging fabrics to escape, he looked down to inspect his clothes.

Although they had been slashed, for some reason, the edges of the fabric showed charred, blackened marks as if they had been burned by fire.

When the fabric pressed against the skin of his flank, he could even feel a lingering, scalding warmth.

What is going on? Zhang Anzai recalled the scene of Mr. Li sitting on the ground and swinging the knife at him: Could it be the blade itself?

He thought this, but quickly recalled the skin mask Mr. Li had worn, the one with the twisted, grinning expression.

That mask had been in a state of severe burns.

Zhang Anzai immediately formed a hypothesis, though he had no time to dwell on it.

I've crippled one of his legs, but he is a dungeon boss after all. A limp doesn't mean he lacks combat power...

Zhang Anzai only possessed one illusion skill, one charged basic attack, and a paper-cutting ability that wasn't very useful for direct combat, so he dared not be overconfident.

"Bang!" He slammed the door shut as he ran out.

The hallway outside remained eerie, with doors on both sides either tightly shut or left slightly ajar, looking exceptionally unsettling as if something might bolt out from within at any moment.

Zhang Anzai scanned left and right, then decisively swung the long sword in his hand: "Clack!"

He gouged a hole into the gray wall beside him.

"Clack, clack, clack!" He chipped away a large chunk of wall plaster along with some brick fragments.

The bronze sword in his hand had indeed suffered significant wear and was even slightly bent, but it was worth it.

Both the man and the dog had sustained some injuries, but they were only slowed down and would eventually catch up; to find a way to break the deadlock in this warehouse that was likely locked tight, he had to make some preparations first.

"Fortunately... the doors in this place aren't perfectly symmetrical." After positioning the fragment, Zhang Anzai stood up.

"Clack!" He forcefully smashed the green emergency exit light in the hallway, shattering both the glass and the bulb, causing it to flicker out and plunge the entire corridor into complete darkness.