The owner gave a gentle smile when she heard someone come in, but when she looked at Dave, her smile became a little forced. Dave also noticed this and frowned, not knowing why. He then looked down to see himself and soon understood. He was still wearing the same torn, muddy clothes, smeared with his own blood. The instructor didn't mind him because he was the same, but this place looked spotless, so maybe she felt uncomfortable when someone like him walked inside. Dave's face heated up, and his ears turned red from embarrassment. Everyone inside the shop looked like pretty flowers; he looked like a cactus in a flower garden.
The owner cleared her throat and asked, "Is there anything you are looking for?" Dave stammered and replied, "I-I am looking to change my appearance." When she heard this, she raised an eyebrow in suspicion, "Oh, you must be a wanderer and must be a new one from the looks of it. Are you sure you can afford that? They could become quite expensive."
"How expensive?" After hearing Dave's question, she shrugged and said, "It depends on the lowest, which is around 5,000 coins, and it can go up to 10,000 coins." Dave's jaw dropped after hearing this. '10,000 coins? Why is it so expensive? Is the reason why the two strangers he met yesterday had very little equipment? Did they spend all their coins on customization?' Dave shook his head in disapproval and asked, "Miss, are there any other options?"
She looked at him and shrugged, "There are, follow me." After that, she went somewhere inside the store. Dave hesitated for a few moments before following her. She led him to a small room at the back. When they entered, Dave saw a variety of masks hanging on the wall; some were displayed in cases, while others were bundled up in a corner.
"Most people want to change their looks, but in some rare cases, people prefer to be themselves. Still, they need a way to hide their face, and the solution is masks. There are many kinds here; some are normal, some are magically enhanced. Pick whichever catches your eye," she explained.
As she described, there were many masks in this small room. Some were flashy and colorful, some looked terrifying. No matter which one someone wore, they would attract attention because of these masks, and Dave wasn't thrilled by that idea. He sighed and looked around, and soon something caught his eye.
It was a plain black mask, silent and featureless. The surface absorbed light, as if painted with something deeper than color. No mouth, no nose, no expressions, only two eyeholes that opened into nothing. They didn't reflect; they consumed. Looking into them was like staring into an endless well where your reflection refused to return.
It was the absence of all detail that made it unbearable. There was nowhere to anchor, understanding no cruelty, sorrow, or even indifference—just a void waiting. People could imagine anything behind it, and that was the terror: the mind, left untethered, invents its own monsters. The mask didn't move, yet the longer you looked, the more certain it became that it was watching. This mask unsettled Dave but also strangely attracted him.
The mask hung on the wall with the others. He soon reached out and took it. It was strange, neither cold nor warm, neither heavy nor light. The owner said, "That's one of the top-grade masks we have, and it's quite expensive compared to others," as she watched him holding it. Dave asked, "How expensive?"
"Thousand coins," she replied immediately. Dave could afford that, but if he paid, he'd be broke. "Err… Ca-can I get a discount?" he asked hesitantly. She raised an eyebrow and scoffed, "Sir, this is a store, not a charity." Embarrassment crept in. She sighed heavily and added, "I could give you a 10% discount, but there are a few conditions. You need to keep shopping here and tell more people about this store."
Hearing this, Dave's face lit up. The owner was very generous—he could promise to keep the deal and leave, but she still offered a discount. "Sure, I can do that." He agreed to her terms, paid her, and left the store.
Now all his money from the bank was gone, leaving him with only 234 coins in his pouch. Before leaving, the owner advised him to visit the city's community center, where he could find jobs to earn money. But first, he needed to check out the mask. He quickly opened his phone and looked at the Equipment Compendium—shockingly, he saw it listed in the rare category. It turns out, the owner was right; it really was a high-quality item.
Black Mask (Rare): A mask of pure darkness and featureless form. Smooth, black, and lacking detail, it completely erases the wearer's identity. No one can see the wearer's face, and only the wearer can remove the mask. Its emptiness acts as both concealment and an aura, silently warning that the wearer is untouchable both in sight and recognition.
Enhancements:
Sturdy: Crafted to last, this mask resists all but the most extraordinary force. It cannot be easily broken or damaged.
Concealment: The wearer remains hidden from detection, unseen by all unless opposed by artifacts of greater than rare grade. Even powerful magic struggles to pierce its veil.
Voice Alteration: The mask allows the wearer to change their voice, making them unrecognizable and ensuring no one can easily track or identify them.
Dave's whistle, after examining its enhancements, was impressive and definitely worth a thousand coins, but there was one small problem: people could still identify him by smell. "Well, you can't have everything, I suppose," he muttered to himself and put on the mask.
It fit him perfectly, almost as if it were made just for him. He had expected the mask to obstruct his vision, but that wasn't the case; he could see clearly, and the mask felt almost invisible. 'Well then, it's time to make some money.'
Dave soon left to find the community center. It was very easy to spot because the community center towered above the town like a beacon of activity, its pristine exterior reflecting the care of dedicated hands. Inside, the air hummed with life, with dreamers and echoes weaving through its vast halls, their footsteps bouncing off polished floors.
Dreamers compared notes, traded tales of distant quests, and scouted opportunities, while villagers moved about with curiosity and purpose, attending to errands, events, or just passing through. The building seemed to pulse with motion, a constant flow of energy. Strategically placed at key points, a few watchful police officers kept a careful eye, ready to step in if tempers flared or accidents happened—quietly reassuring amid the organized chaos.
Dave was surprised at the number of people present, and he felt a bit overwhelmed. He'd only been told to come here, so he wasn't sure what to do. As he looked around, someone approached and asked, "Who are you, and what are you doing here?" He was surprised by the sudden voice when he saw who it was. It was the jogger who helped him yesterday, now in a police uniform and giving him a suspicious look.
Dave soon realized why the jogger didn't recognize him—that was because of the mask—so he took it off. The jogger was surprised to see Dave, but before he could say anything, Dave put the mask back on. "Thank you for your help yesterday," Dave said first.
The jogger just waved his arms and said, "It's fine, it's nothing. I am John, by the way. What are you doing here? And what's with that weird mask?" John asked curiously.
"Hello, John, I am Duuull?" he almost said his real name, but changed it halfway. John, meanwhile, raised an eyebrow and asked, "Dull? Your name is Dull?" Dave chuckled and said, "No, that was a mistake. My name is Null. As for your other questions, I bought this mask because I couldn't afford to change my appearance, and I came here to earn some money."
John finally looked understanding. "Right, you're new here then. If you're new, does that mean this is your first time?" Dave just nodded. "Alright then, follow me. I know someone who can help you get started." John gestured for Dave to follow him.
Inside, it was bustling with people, with many long lines of dreamers waiting for their turn. Dave thought he would have to wait too, but that wasn't the case. John went inside somewhere, and Dave hesitated but soon followed.
Soon, they faced a large door with the words "Deputy Mayor" on it. John knocked twice and went in before anyone responded. Dave followed, entering a room where a young woman with auburn hair and blue eyes sat behind a mountain of paperwork. Her hair was disheveled, and she wore a frown, hardly noticing them.
John walked straight up to her and cleared his throat. Hearing this, she looked at him with an irritated look, but when she found out it was John, her face softened a little.