CHAPTER 10: Illusion Veil

"The mask is known as the Illusion Veil, although you can give it any name you prefer. The Huji Jing inside it seems to favor that name, so it's best to use it," Konstantin introduced the mask.

"Alright," Lucian responded, his gaze fixated on the hypnotizing mask. He longed to wear it but remained cautious about the side effects.

"Alright, everyone understands their roles. Let's get moving," Rune commanded, clapping her hands to capture the attention of both Konstantin and Lucian.

Approaching Lucian, Konstantin extended his hand. "Give me one of your best weapons, and I will transform it into a spiritbound. Later, once you've completed your mission, I'll need you to... cut off your arm and give it to me," Konstantin explained, his eyes displaying an unusual glimmer.

Lucian stared at Konstantin as if he were uttering nonsense. "My arm?"

Konstantin took a deep breath. "Yes, I will transform it into a powerful instrument and then reattach it to you. Well, that's the part Rune will handle," he added, shifting his gaze towards Rune.

"Now, hand me one of your weapons," Konstantin commanded

Lucian paused for a moment, contemplating, before retrieving his trusty Daniel Defense DDM4 V7 with a suppressor, extended clip, and barrel. He handed it over to Konstantin.

Konstantin examined the firearm. "That's a fine piece, I must admit. Ah, I see you have a suppressor attached. I can bind a spirit within it, enhancing the bullets' potency and rendering them as silent as the void itself. A Banshee spirit would be a perfect fit. If the banshee cooperates then you might get the ability to instil fear onto your enemies. It will come with a side effect tho."

"I suppose that will suffice," Lucian responded curtly.

Lucian refrained from asking too many questions. He believed it didn't suit someone like him to inquire too deeply.

After changing into a more practical attire, consisting of black cargo pants with clips for his Aero Precision EPC, a simple black compression shirt, and a bulletproof vest equipped with various grenades and additional clips, Lucian set off towards his destination. He jogged for approximately twenty minutes before reaching his objective, wasting no time in initiating his preparations. Surprisingly, he noticed the absence of guards outside the location.

Lucian loaded a fresh clip into his rifle and putting it behind his back, he retrieved the Illusion Veil. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he brought the mask closer to his face, his anticipation mounting with each passing second.

As the cool surface of the porcelain mask made contact with Lucian's skin, a shiver ran down his spine. The mask seamlessly melded with his features, leaving no discernible boundary between his flesh and the mask's surface.

Prior to his departure, both Konstantin and Rune had attempted to explain how to utilize the mask's powers. Lucian had to focus on the person he desired to transform into and simply will the transformation to occur. For him, this process was somewhat simpler, owing to his "good senses," as Rune had described it. Others, however, would need to channel the powers of the Spirit/Charm through their bodies and gather it around their minds, a more complex procedure.

Lucian devised a plan to eliminate the guards stationed at the entrance of the underground base and assume one of their identities.

Moving with deliberate caution, he approached the door silently, ensuring not to give away his presence. Slowly and carefully, he opened the door just enough to get a glimpse inside. Through the narrow opening, he observed two robust men engaged in a conversation in Chinese. Although Lucian possessed fluency in multiple languages, Chinese was unfortunately not among them. Nevertheless, he had a basic understanding of the language.

Attempting to piece together fragments of their dialogue, he strained to decipher their words. "Something about a red-eyed wolf?" he pondered but abandoned the effort halfway. Time was of the essence, and he couldn't afford to waste it.

Lucian widened the door's opening and stealthily entered the dimly lit room, his form blending seamlessly with the shadows. His movements felt incredibly light, thanks to the influence of the mask.

Before drawing too close to the guards, he retrieved an M9 bayonet, gripping it in reverse. With utmost care, he approached the guards from behind, close enough to hear their heartbeats.

In one swift motion, he swiftly plunged the dagger into the throat of one guard, blood spurting forth like a gushing fountain. The unexpected splatter of blood momentarily caught the second guard off guard, providing Lucian with a vital advantage.

Seizing the opportunity, Lucian grasped the second guard by the throat, swiftly slamming him to the ground. In a fluid motion, he withdrew the dagger from the lifeless throat of the first guard and used it to cleave the second guard's head in two.

The entire sequence unfolded in a blur, leaving both guards dead before they even had time to comprehend what had occurred. Their bodies twitched slightly in their final moments.

Lucian wiped the bayonet clean with the shirt of one of the fallen guards, then examined the faces before him, contemplating which one to assume.

However, as he began to transform, an intense shivering overcame him, accompanied by an agonizing pain coursing through his entire body.

Lucian fought against the urge to scream, exerting every ounce of willpower to suppress the intense desire. After what felt like an eternity of agonizing pain, the torment subsided, and Lucian returned to a state of normalcy. He took slow, steady breaths, contemplating the possibility of enduring such torment again and the toll it might take on his sanity.

The excruciating pain stemmed from the restructuring of his entire head structure, morphing his features into those of the person he desired to impersonate. Eyes had to be sacrificed for new ones, noses had to break to assume a different shape—each transformation caused discomfort that left an unpleasant impression.

Regaining his composure, Lucian proceeded toward the wooden door, now wearing his new face, and cautiously pushed it open. Revealed beyond the door was a tunnel leading underground, precisely as Lucian had anticipated. With enhanced vision granted by the mask, he confidently descended the tunnel, perceiving the darkness as though it were illuminated by daylight.

The tunnel stretched on, its walls aged and covered in mud, with sporadic traces of blood marking certain spots. The putrid stench filled the air, forcing Lucian to breathe through his mouth to minimize the unpleasantness. Eventually, he reached the tunnel's end, where a dark red door emitted a faint glow from behind it. Lucian approached the door, twisted the handle steadily, and pushed it open. His eyes swiftly adjusted to the sudden flood of light pouring into the space beyond.

What he beheld was a vast hall, resembling a hangar designed for accommodating large aircraft. The area was adorned with wooden crates, which were being handled by individuals dressed in yellow hazard suits. Long tables displayed glasses of various sizes containing peculiar liquids. Lucian instinctively recognized the contents as drugs, though the exact nature of the liquid remained uncertain.

Wearing the face of the guard he had assumed, Lucian approached one of the crates and opened it, his excitement palpable as his eyes widened. The crate contained at least fifty tank shells, sparking a plan within Lucian's mind.

His focus was abruptly interrupted by a voice calling out to him in Chinese. Lucian understood that he was being addressed and turned to face an elderly man clad in a tactical suit.

"What are you doing here?" the old man questioned, his tone laced with anger.

Lucian remained composed, not succumbing to panic. "I needed to use the restroom," he replied, employing his limited Chinese language skills.

"Well, go then! What the hell are you staring at? You aren't even allowed to enter this hall, you XXXXXXX!" the old man retorted, his final words laced with a derogatory term that Lucian didn't fully comprehend, although he understood it was an insult.

"Now is the time to act," Lucian thought, his resolve firm. Drawing upon the powers of the mask, he conjured an illusion of himself and hid behind it. While the illusion distracted the guard in front of him, Lucian swiftly retrieved his rifle and fired a shot in the old man's head, making him fall to the ground, the sound reverberating through the hall, alerting everyone present.

Lucian commanded his illusion to draw the attention of the guards, providing him with a moment to take cover behind the crate filled with tank shells. His plan involved detonating the crate, triggering a chain reaction that would ignite any flammable material and cause explosive destruction.

Gunfire erupted, each shot aimed at the illusion running in the opposite direction of Lucian, who silently maneuverer the crate toward the center of the hall amidst the chaos. The illusion remained intact, perplexing the guards as they tried to locate their elusive target.

Carrying the weight of the one-ton crate, Lucian endured the onslaught of bullets for as long as he could, until the illusion dissipated, and the gunfire ceased momentarily. Seizing the opportunity, he produced a hand grenade, pulled the pin, and hurled it into the crate. With swift agility, Lucian sprinted out of the hall, the gunfire resuming as he appeared and made his escape.

Blessed with the enhanced speed granted by the Spiritbound mask, Lucian covered a distance of 20 meters in less than a second. He leaped behind the dark red door and swiftly closed it, sealing off the room completely.

From behind the door, Lucian heard a tremendous explosion followed by screams, as the detonation initiated a chain reaction, setting ablaze every flammable substance and triggering a series of explosive blasts. None of those inside the hall would be spared.

After the fire subsided, Lucian still had around five minutes before the side effects of the mask would take hold. He cautiously opened the door to assess the aftermath, intending to eliminate any survivors. But as the door swung open, his eyes widened in shock.

The large hall was engulfed in smoke and flames, bloodied and dismembered bodies strewn across the floor in a macabre display. However, amidst the haze, Lucian spotted two figures—a tall human adorned with fur on its shoulders and a colossal three-meter wolf at its side. Their presence was ominous, their eyes glowing red through the smoke.

"The specialist," Lucian muttered under his breath, cursing his luck.