[ Current balance: 240 coins ]

"Oh my god."

It wasn’t just that he’d finally gotten to eat his favorite soup: rich, warm, and exactly the way he liked it.

But now, on top of that, he actually had more than enough coins to buy the Blank Mask.

The thought alone made his chest feel light.

He stayed in that house far longer than he expected. Time slipped by easily, since, to be fair, it was pretty fun.

At some point, they even offered to let him stay the night.

But Blake refused.

It wouldn’t have made much of a difference anyway. His ride back was still Anthony, whether it was now or later.

By the time he got home, the night had fully settled in. The air felt still, heavy with that late-hour silence.

And the moment he stepped inside, he knew exactly what he had to do.

"Spoon, open the shop."

[ Yes, Dear Host. ]

The interface appeared instantly in his vision, smooth and familiar, but something was off.

The number.

"Hey. Why is it two hundred coins now?"

The price had changed.

[ Dear Host, it was discounted for a limited time. If you had completed your commissions earlier, you would have been able to obtain it at a lower cost. ]

"Um... what?"

Blake blinked, staring at it like it might somehow fix itself.

Yet it didn’t.

He rubbed his temples slowly, exhaling through his nose. There was a brief flicker of irritation, but it faded just as quickly.

There was no point.

Arguing with Spoon about something like this? Completely useless.

"...Whatever."

It wasn’t like it actually mattered.

He still had more than enough.

Blake hovered his finger over the Blank Mask icon for a second longer than necessary.

Then he pressed it.

[ Purchase successful. ]

And that was it.

For a moment, he just stood there. Then a small, quiet smile tugged at his lips.

"Finally."

Apart from the relief he felt, he couldn’t deny just how exhausted he felt.

These strange missions Spoon kept throwing at him... they weren’t easy or safe.

And he had been pushing through all of it.

"Spoon, give me the mask."

[ Understood, Dear Host. ]

The mask dropped lightly into his hand. He turned it over slowly, taking a good look.

’So this is it.’

For something that cost so little, it didn’t look all that bad.

He held it there for a while, unsure.

"...Spoon."

[ Yes, Dear Host? ]

"How do I actually use this thing? Like... how do I change how I look?"

[ Dear Host, you only need to wear the mask and clearly picture the desired appearance. The transformation will follow the Host’s imagination. ]

Blake blinked.

"That’s it?"

That sounded almost too easy.

Without wasting another second, Blake turned and headed straight for the bathroom.

"...Alright."

He let out a slow breath.

Then, carefully, he lifted the mask and placed it over his face.

For a moment, nothing happened, he just stood there.

Maybe it needed a second.

Or maybe he just couldn’t find the imagination in him yet.

Blake closed his eyes.

He tried to picture something. Anything.

A different face. A different version of himself.

But...

"This is harder than I thought."

The image in his mind felt blurry, incomplete. Every time he tried to focus on details, they slipped away. The shape of the face didn’t hold. The features didn’t settle.

It just... didn’t come naturally.

’Wait.’

Then a thought crossed his mind.

If imagining something new was difficult, why not copy something that already existed? It would definitely help him.

Myles.

Blake focused.

Dark hair.

Black eyes.

Sharp eyes.

That calm, composed expression.

He built the image piece by piece, holding it steady this time.

Then, he opened his eyes and froze.

’Ah.’

The reflection staring back at him wasn’t his own.

It was Myles, indeed.

Blake’s eyes widened, and he nearly stumbled back.

’What the—’

His hand shot up to his face, fingers pressing against his skin.

He leaned closer to the mirror, staring at himself, no, at Myles.

He looked exactly like he had that day at the auction.

’This is insane.’

A small, disbelieving laugh escaped him.

"Hi, Blake."

The word slipped out.

And he immediately froze.

Because the voice was still his.

’Oh.’

He raised an eyebrow, trying to remember Myles’ voice as clearly as possible.

"Hello."

It truly wasn’t Myles’ voice.

Blake slowly lifted a hand to cover his mouth.

"That’s hella weird."

Myles had a deeper voice. Not excessively deep, but definitely lower than his.

His voice didn’t match at all, so the disconnect was pretty unsettling.

Like watching a badly dubbed movie.

’Yeah, that’s not right.’

He stared at his reflection again, the unease settling in more clearly now.

The mask was dangerous even if it couldn’t enhance physical abilities or make him stronger, the kind of deception it allowed...

"Spoon."

[ Yes, Dear Host? ]

"Why can’t I change my voice?"

[ Dear Host, any biological changes are not possible. This includes vocal structure. ]

Blake let out a sigh.

So if he ever got into a situation where he needed to stay silent.

And if he spoke...

’Yeah, that could go very wrong.’

Imagine screaming in pain with the wrong voice.

He exhaled slowly.

"Take it back."

With a small shake of his head, Blake reached up and removed the mask, which puffed into thin air the moment after.

The moment it came off, his reflection returned to normal, just him again.

Blake leaned against the sink for a second, staring at his own reflection.

"Alright."

He stepped out of the bathroom, mind already shifting gears.

’Forty coins left.’

Which wasn’t bad.

’I should buy buffs, obviously.’

He called the shop interface back up, scrolling through the options again.

There were a lot, and most of them expensive.

The higher-level buffs, A rank and up, were sitting comfortably around five hundred coins or more.

"Yeah, no."

But C-level ones were manageable, around thirty coins each.

"Makes sense."

Blake tapped through a few options, scanning descriptions.

He already had a permanent high-level defense buff, that alone was a huge advantage.

So the next step was obvious.

’Should I invest in offense or speed?’

Being faster meant better reactions, better escapes, better positioning.

Then again...

’I already have I’ll sneak for my lover."

It made him blurry and hard to focus on. Even if someone looked straight at him, they’d struggle to lock onto him properly.

That covered a lot of what speed would give him.

"So strength, then."

Blake selected the C-level strength buff and confirmed the purchase.

[ Purchase successful. ]

A faint sensation spread through his body. It was not painful or overwhelming. Just there.

He flexed his hand slightly.

"Huh."

It felt different, like his muscles had been reinforced from the inside.

Curious, he picked up a chair, and lifted it with one hand.

"Woah!?"

That was easier than before.

He set it back down, rolling his shoulders.

Pressing on the interface again, the buff description flickered briefly in his mind:

[ Increased baseline physical strength by approximately 20% ]

[ Improved muscle endurance, reducing fatigue during repeated exertion ]

[ Slight enhancement to grip strength and striking force ]

[ Minor resistance to physical strain and injury under load. ]

’Not bad.’

Then, he saw that he could actually level it up, until he reached the same level as the S-level, 500 coin buff.

’But I’d need 50 coins to make it B-level, then 100 coins to make it A-level... and 320 coins to make it S-level.’

Blake let out a small sigh.

Well, at least now, he wasn’t completely reliant on tricks and luck.

Ding.

His phone lit up.

Blake glanced over, picking it up.

A message from Myles.

Bring some of your toys along.

Blake blinked.

"...Toys?"

He raised an eyebrow, reading it again.

’Does he mean videogames?’

Still, he typed back quickly.

Yeah, sure.

For a moment, he just stood there.

Then sat.

Then leaned back, his heart feeling heavy, now that he had nothing to do.

Staring at the ceiling for a few seconds, he felt a bit teary, so he reached for his phone again, tapping Myles’ contact and hit call.

Click.

"...What is it?"

Blake shifted slightly on the bed.

"Nothing, really. I just wanted to talk. I’m bored."

On the other end, there was complete silence.

"I’m doing something right now," Myles said after a moment. "We’ll spend time together tomorrow."

Across the line, Myles stood in a dimly lit room, his posture was relaxed, almost casual.

In front of him, a man sat tied to a chair.

Rope dug into his wrists, binding them tightly behind his back. More wrapped around his torso, his legs, anchoring him in place.

His head hung slightly forward, but he wasn’t unconscious.

Although he was crying, his breathing was completely silent.

Because any sudden movement or noise might make things worse.

His eyes flickered upward briefly, just enough to look at Myles.

And then immediately away with a slight whimper.

’Is he laying down or something? There are no bombs in the background, so he must be home. Don’t be lazy, you bastard!’

Blake frowned slightly.

"Come on, just a bit? I’m seriously bored here."

"Tomorrow," Myles repeated.

"...Alright."

Blake sighed.

"Fine."

He pulled the phone away slightly.

"See you tomorrow, then."

"Yeah."

The call ended.

Blake stared at the screen for a second before letting his hand drop.

"...Man."

He yawned, long and slow.

The exhaustion from earlier crept back in, heavier now.

"...What’s the point of staying up."

There was nothing left to do or well, nothing worth doing, anyway.

He placed the phone on the bedside table, turning off the light.

Blake shifted under the covers, closing his eyes.

And within minutes, sleep took him.