Chapter 113: Error
Leon lifted the transparent mask and pressed it against his face without hesitation.
The moment it made contact with his skin, he felt a faint, cool tingling spread across his features, and within seconds, his entire face shifted beneath the mask’s surface.
His jawline softened slightly, his nose changed shape, and a short, well-groomed black goatee sprouted along his chin, transforming him into someone else entirely, a young man he wouldn’t have recognized if he passed himself on the street.
His hair remained untouched, the same as before, but the change to his face alone was enough to make him completely unrecognizable at a glance.
He smirked slightly beneath the mask, turning the thought over in his mind.
’I was just thinking of a way to lay low...’ he thought, almost amused by the timing of it all. ’To think I’d get a drop like this. I’m really lucky.’
With the Player Guild Association almost certainly hunting for his real face by now, a disguise like this couldn’t have come at a better time, dropped practically into his lap from a monster he’d barely put any effort into killing.
[Name: Trickster’s Mask of Many Faces]
[Grade: Legendary]
[Description: A mysterious mask said to have been created by the Trickster god, a being who deceived gods, kings, and even fate itself. The mask possesses countless faces, each representing a different identity, allowing its wearer to become anyone they desire. It can alter not only appearance, but also voice, aura, presence, and physical characteristics, making its wearer nearly impossible to distinguish from the person being imitated.]
[When equipped, STR: +1000, AGL: +2200, VIT: +1000, MANA: +3500, END: +1500]
[Skills: False Identity(A-rank), Phantom Double(S-rank), Face of Deception(SS-rank), Reality’s Masquerade(SS-rank), ???(SSS-rank)]
[Note: You haven’t been fully accepted by the mask. Earn the acknowledgment of the Trickster, and unlock the countless faces and hidden power sealed within the mask.]
His attention shifted quickly, though, as motion caught the corner of his eye.
Off to the side, another woman was moments away from being torn apart, pinned helplessly to the ground beneath the massive claws of one of the four-legged chickens looming over her.
She screamed, thrashing weakly against the creature’s grip, her voice raw with terror as the monster’s beak lowered slowly toward her, clearly savoring the moment before finishing her off.
Leon scoffed under his breath and pulled his fist back without wasting another second, driving it forward through the empty air toward the creature.
A powerful shockwave burst forward from the motion, cutting cleanly across the distance between them, and slammed directly into the chicken’s side with enough force to send it flying clean off the woman, its claws ripping free from where they’d been pinning her down.
The creature crashed hard into the ground several meters away, its body skidding briefly across the pavement before finally coming to a stop.
It coughed up a thick spray of blood, its legs twitching weakly for a moment, before it went completely still, dead.
Leon nodded slightly to himself, mildly impressed by the result.
’I never thought I could use these gauntlets for long range attacks,’ he thought, glancing briefly down at his fists.
In truth, he hadn’t actually made contact with the monster at all, both strikes so far had been thrown at nothing but empty air in front of him.
But with his current strength boosted so dramatically after his recent level jump, even a simple punch thrown into open space was enough to generate a shockwave powerful enough to kill a D-rank monster in a single hit, without him ever needing to close the distance at all.
The woman scrambled to her feet almost immediately, her breathing ragged as she turned to face the person who had just saved her life.
For a brief moment, pure relief washed over her expression. She had been certain, only seconds earlier, that her life was over the instant those massive claws pinned her down.
Now, staring at the man standing several feet away, she could hardly believe she was still breathing.
That relief didn’t last long.
The moment her eyes properly landed on Leon, taking in the full sight of him, standing barefoot in the middle of the street, his clothes soaked through with waste and sewage, streaks of grime smeared across his exposed skin, her expression twisted sharply into open disgust.
She stumbled back a step, her hand instinctively covering her nose, and without saying a single word to him, without so much as a glance of gratitude, she turned and bolted toward the other side of the street, disappearing quickly into the chaos of fleeing bodies.
Leon’s frown deepened as he watched her go.
"I don’t even get a thank you?" he muttered under his breath, genuinely offended. "Damn..."
He exhaled slowly, glancing down at himself properly for the first time since climbing out of the garbage bin.
The sight wasn’t pretty. Dark stains covered most of his shirt, sticky patches clung to his sleeves, and he could still smell traces of the sewage soaked into the fabric, thick enough to make his own nose wrinkle in discomfort.
He couldn’t exactly blame her for reacting the way she had. If their positions had been reversed, he probably would have run too.
Around him, the chaos of the street continued uninterrupted. Civilians were still scattering in every direction, screaming as they fled, while more of the massive four-legged chickens tore through the crowd, snapping their beaks into anyone too slow to escape.
Leon exhaled again, pushing the momentary annoyance aside.
"Perhaps I should kill these overgrown chickens," he muttered to himself, already scanning the street for his next target. "Who knows, I might get another legendary drop."
Beyond the obvious appeal of another lucky pull from his talent, there was a second, more pressing reason pulling at him.
He still needed to track down the dungeon gate itself, the source spitting these monsters out into the streets in the first place.
If he could locate it and seal the break properly, he could put an end to this entire disaster once and for all, rather than simply picking off stragglers one at a time while the source kept pumping out more.
His eyes landed on another one of the creatures nearby, its claws raised high, poised to come crashing down on a middle-aged man who had tripped and fallen, too winded to scramble back up in time.
Without hesitation, Leon broke into a sprint, closing the distance rapidly, his earlier caution replaced now by sharp, focused intent as he charged straight toward the chicken bearing down on its next victim.
*
A few minutes later, Leon stood in the middle of the street, surrounded by a wide scattering of massive, unmoving chicken corpses, blood pooling steadily beneath each of their broken bodies.
He clicked his tongue in irritation, glancing around at the carnage.
"I didn’t get even one drop..." he muttered, his frustration plain in his voice.
He’d been hoping, honestly praying, that at least one of the dozen or so chickens he’d taken down would trigger his talent again, and that whatever dropped would turn out to be a sword, something he could finally use to replace Excalibur.
Fighting with his fists worked well enough, and there was no denying it looked impressive, but it simply wasn’t his style.
His main training at the academy had been with a blade, and every instinct in his body still leaned toward the weight and reach of a sword over the raw, blunt force of his gauntlets.
The thought only soured his mood further, dragging his mind straight back to Arthur, the very reason he was stuck fighting bare-fisted in the first place.
If the king hadn’t stripped him of Excalibur, none of this would even be a problem.
He exhaled sharply, pushing the frustration down, and turned around toward the sound of murmuring voices behind him.
A crowd of civilians had gathered a short distance away, huddled together near the mouth of a side street, staring at him with wide, disbelieving eyes, the kind of look usually reserved for something people weren’t entirely convinced was real.
Leon raised a hand and gave them an awkward wave.
"I don’t even get a thank you?" he called out, only half joking at this point. "What’s wrong with this place?"
For a moment, nobody moved. Then, slowly, one man stepped forward from the group, separating himself from the crowd.
He was an older man, balding across the top of his head, with only a thin scattering of grey hair remaining along the sides.
His clothes were simple, practical, clearly belonging to someone who worked with his hands for a living, and his posture carried the slight stoop of age.
He bowed low toward Leon, his hands pressed together respectfully in front of him.
Leon’s brow twitched slightly at the question, caught off guard by it. Of all the things he expected someone to ask him after watching him single-handedly wipe out an entire street’s