Chapter 125 Beneath The Mask (Illustration) (Slightly NSFW)
Chapter 125 Beneath The Mask (Illustration) (Slightly NSFW)
“Ahh… I’m so tired,” Iryoku muttered, stumbling through the mountain path. He pushed past thick roots and low branches, forcing his body to keep moving. “Hey—where’s this hiding place of yours?”
“That… big tree,” Mr. K panted, pointing toward an old, thin tree ahead.
Iryoku set him down, and the two staggered over. Mr. K limped behind the trunk and began to dig with his bare hands, his small claws scraping weakly at the dirt.
“What the hell are you doing?” Iryoku snapped, stepping closer, frustration flaring.
“Keep looking!” voices shouted in the distance—their pursuers were closing in.
Cursing under his breath, Iryoku knelt and started digging too, using his sword like a shovel. Soon, they uncovered a narrow hole beneath the roots. Mr. K squeezed himself in first, barely fitting—but his clothes snagged on a thick root.
“Move!” Iryoku hissed, shoving the catman hard with his foot. Fabric tore somewhere below, but he didn’t care.
Then Iryoku crouched low, grabbed a bush and a few loose branches, and dragged them over the opening. As he lowered himself into the hole, he pulled them down to mask it—just as the faint sound of armored boots echoed through the forest.
Feeling the pull of the fleshy chain between them, Iryoku ducked and crawled in after him. The tunnel was tight, suffocating. Ahead, the catman’s silhouette wriggled through the dark, dragging himself lower and lower—until they dropped into a cramped cavern barely a meter high.
Mr. K slumped against the far wall and collapsed onto his back, chest heaving. The darkness meant nothing to either of them; their eyes adjusted easily. Iryoku could see the man’s chest rising and falling, each breath ragged and shallow.
Iryoku sat beside him, listening. The footsteps above faded, then vanished. After a long silence, he exhaled. “We lost them.”
He turned toward Mr. K. The catman’s shirt was almost completely torn, revealing a dented chestplate beneath. His body glistened with sweat.
“How did you know about this place?” Iryoku asked.
Mr. K didn’t answer. He just rolled to his side and pressed a hand against the wall, feeling around until his fingers found something—a small hatch. He pulled it open, and a faint beam of light filtered in through a narrow hole leading to the surface, casting a pale glow across the cramped tunnel.
The man froze. For a moment, he just stared at something carved into the wall, then lowered his head toward the ground.
Iryoku followed his gaze and saw the markings—two identical letters, separated by another, all circled together in a rough outline that resembled a sun.
He squinted. “Are those letters? What’re they supposed to mean?”
He leaned closer, muttering to himself. “Come on… I can do this. Reika taught me how to read this stuff…”
He focused, the shapes slowly shifting in his mind until they became readable.
“Ha! It worked!”
K & K.
“What’s that supposed to be, huh? Some kind of couple’s love umbrella or something?” he muttered, glancing back.
But Mr. K was already asleep—out cold, exhaustion written all over his face.
“Yeah, leave me talking to myself, asshole,” Iryoku grumbled, pulling out another fruit and taking a bite.
He set a hand on the ground, trying to settle down and rest too—but something uneven pressed against his palm.
“Huh?” He frowned and brushed the dirt aside. His fingers struck something solid. He dug a little deeper… and pulled it free.
It wasn’t a rock.
It was a skull.
Not quite an adult’s, not a child’s either—somewhere in between. The bone was pale, brittle. Iryoku stared for a long moment before setting it down gently. As he moved more dirt aside, he uncovered more bones—a full skeleton, curled as if hiding.
He exhaled sharply, jaw tightening. “Great…” he muttered under his breath.
Sliding back toward the wall, he settled near the catman, who was still snoring—breath ragged and uneven. Iryoku closed his eyes, trying to push the image of the skull out of his head as exhaustion finally dragged him down.
After a while, rustling broke the silence. Iryoku opened his eyes and saw the catman heaving, chest rising and falling like he was struggling to breathe.
“Oi… what the hell’s wrong with you, puss?”
He reached for the chest plate. “Maybe you just need to take this off—it’s too tight.”
As his hand brushed the armor, he felt something strange beneath. Frowning, Iryoku moved the plate aside—then froze.
The body underneath was covered in scars from neck to abdomen. A white-furred tail was coiled tightly around the waist, slowly unwrapping to lie limp beside them. But what truly stopped him cold were the tight bandages wrapped across the chest.
His jaw dropped. “No way… that’s why you felt… squishy?” Iryoku hesitated, then touched the bandages, groping both mounds. The softness confirmed it.
“Holy shit… you’re…?” he whispered, half-laughing, half-screaming. “No wonder you looked… weirdly feminine. I thought you were just a—faggot.”
His eyes shifted to her face. The black mask hiding her mouth came off under his hand, revealing a sharp, beautiful face—marred with scars but undeniably striking.
Iryoku staggered back a step, blinking rapidly. “Holy… fuck… I… I did not see that coming.”
Then he leaned closer, inspecting her face. “Mm… those scars look old. Definitely not recent.”
His gaze slid down her body—the chest barely restrained by the bandages. His hands moved almost on instinct, loosening them slightly until two pink nipples peeked out. “Mmm… nice color,” he muttered under his breath, like some perverted art critic.
Then his eyes drifted lower, over her defined abs. “Really ripped… great form… marked with old scars too. Very sexy,” he murmured. Finally, his gaze dropped to her belt and black pants. “Mmm… guess I better check to be sure.”
His hands hovered, hesitating—his fingers twitching perversely in the air—then froze as she stirred.
A soft, broken feminine whisper escaped her lips, followed by a faint sob.
“…Kalev… no… don’t… go…”
Panic surged through him—like he was doing something wrong. And he was. He moved fast, hastily rewrapping her chest, fixing the bandages, and slipping the mouth mask back into place. He had barely stepped back when Mr. K’s eyes fluttered open, catching Iryoku’s silhouette looming over her.
Iryoku’s hands shot up like he’d been caught stealing. “Don’t worry! Everything’s fine now!”
She closed her eyes again for a second, like it was all just a dream—then suddenly snapped them open.
“What’s happening?” Her voice came out forced, still low and male-like. But now that he’d heard her true, softer tone once, Iryoku realized—she was faking it, forcing that masculine voice.
“Eh… nothing. Just… swatting a bug you had on you, heheh,” he said nervously, forcing a laugh.
The girl glanced down—and froze. Her upper body was mostly exposed, only her chest wrapped in a tight bandage-like bra. Her face twisted in shock as she scrambled to cover herself, eyes wide with panic. She grabbed her chest plate and hurriedly draped it over her body, breathing hard.
She shook her head, still trembling, staring at Iryoku with a mix of fear and disbelief.
Iryoku raised his hands defensively, shrugging. “Everything’s fine, just calm down… You—you’re a girl, right?”
The girl trembled violently, shaking her head. “No! I’m not! I’m a man… a man! I… I’m a strong man!” Her voice cracked at the end, straining to sound deeper.
Iryoku frowned, watching her closely. The way she moved—the hesitant gestures, the quivering tone—what he’d once mistaken for a soft, quiet man was now clearly something else. Unmistakably feminine.
“Who’s Kalev?” he asked quietly.
Her face twitched. “No… I am Kalev. That’s my name… don’t…” She swayed, then collapsed, her breathing slowing as she drifted into unconsciousness.
“Well… what a damn mess. Why do I have to deal with things like this?” he muttered, rolling onto his back to sleep.
After a couple of hours, he woke up feeling a little more energized. He turned toward the catgirl—she was sitting against the rocky wall, body hunched, looking defeated.
Iryoku sighed. “Look, puss… you feeling better?”
She looked up sharply. “Don’t call me that.” Her voice carried a dangerous edge. “My name… is Kalev.” The tone softened slightly as she spoke the name.
“Whatever you say, buddy…” Iryoku sighed. “Now we need to decide what to do from here.” He met her gaze, serious. “You’ve been to this place before, right?”
Silence stretched for a beat, then her voice returned—low, rough, the male facade slipping back on.
“This place... used to be my home. We—demihumans—founded this city a long time ago…” She stopped, struggled for the words. “Then that man… the Death Tree, that killer—after he was granted the title of Count... He came and took everything from us. He killed, he enslaved…”
Her cat eyes flared as she turned to Iryoku. “That man needs to die. He will die by my blade… he must.” Her breathing hitched; rage sharpened her voice.
Iryoku’s expression hardened. “How do you expect to beat him if you panic like that? you fear him.”
“I’m not—” Kalev snapped, the word clipped.