Picked Up a Mask That Converts Any Woman Into a Brainwashed Creature. 84

Chapter 84 – Betrayal on Betrayal

Once upon a time, there lived an artist in a small rural village.

The tree he drew swayed its leaves in the wind,
The wooden doll he carved was alive and moving,
The inventions he made were of great help to his neighbors.

The villagers called him ‘artist’, respected and loved him.

The artist, too, reciprocates the favor of his neighbours, helping those in need with his own talents.

One day in a village overflowing with happiness with his warm heart,
A terrifying witch wearing a black cloak appeared from the back of a rough forest road.

Jealous of the residents who laughed at happiness except for her, the witch cast a curse on the frightened town.

‘You will no longer be able to face the person you love!’

It was a cruel curse that would make your skin rot if you ever saw someone you loved.
The village, which was always overflowing with love and consideration, is now filled with silence and the smell of rotting flesh.

But hope always exists,
She heard the sad news and came to the village to distribute food and medicine to her residents.

The artist who couldn’t see the residents who had such a painful day with solitude and disease made up his mind.

…

The brave artist made his way through the rugged forest with a picture of a beautiful village.
After getting his flesh torn by thorn bushes and being stung by poisonous insects, he finally arrived at a hut.
It was the hut where the witch who cursed the villagers lived.

He shouted in front of the witch’s hut, holding up the painting with bloodied hands.

‘What do you like?’

Answered the witch, who had been standing behind the door and peering at her picture through a small peephole.

‘I like theater.’

The witch opened the closed door to the painting of the village, the beautiful heart of the artist who did not wither despite her wounds.
The artist smiled kindly at the witch who opened her door, and asked to borrow her carving knife.

Embarrassed by her first-time kindness, the witch handed the artist a piece of her carving knife.

He cut trees in the forest to make countless dolls and a mask.
Deep in the forest, a puppet show was held for only one witch.

The story of a hero who rescued a princess who was captured by an evil dragon and forced to wear a cursed mask.
It was a childish play that the village children would like, but the witch was moved to tears.

The witch, finally remorseful of her own wrongdoing, reaped the curse on her village and she disappeared deeper into the woods.

Falling in love with the courage and kindness of the artist who saved the village, the saintess married him under the warm blessings of the villagers.
She brought peace and development to the village and lived happily ever after.

…
…
…

‘Her judgment on her liars, her saints, may her another play for my her and her last forever—’

“…”

On the last page of a children’s book, he touches the words scrawled with unfathomable hatred.
The sense of incongruity that I felt throughout reading the story blossomed only when it reached the end.

If it was a story about a saint and an artist being happy, why is it titled ‘The Witch and the Artist’?

Why did I become so immersed in common and crappy children’s books?

The truth was forgotten and covered by some lie, and there was no way to find out,
I could at least know that this place was a witch’s hut from a fairy tale.

Numerous masks hanging on the wall the other day, sawdust on the desk, and a carving knife.

Right here, the mask was made by the hands of a man called an ‘artist’.

“…Witches, masks, artists…”

It feels like the afterglow of a fairy tale left in my head warned me.

I can open the door now and return to reality, but a warning that my story will end there.

There is still something I must do here. What the hell is it, is there something left I haven’t read yet?

I look around the surroundings as I walk through the space between dream and reality.
Inside the desolate cabin, I move toward the sunlight that suddenly catches my eye.

A wooden table covered with white dust, the sunlight shining on it.

Scavenged wood and several carving knives were scattered there.

Unlike the things in the cabin that feel like eons of time,
Grab and listen to a tree that is alive and vibrant as if it had just been cut down.

It’s unfinished, so it’s a little clunky, but it’s a familiar shape.

At first glance, some people might mistake it for a bowl, but this is a mask.

I also picked up the carving knife lying next to it.

Strange letters written on the handle of the carving knife.
But thanks to this, I found out another thing.

“…”

The letters written on the last page of the fairy tale book and the letters on the carving knife that were half erased.

The font of both letters is the same.

This carving knife is something that the artist borrowed from her witch, why is it such a thing?

‘To you whom I love.’

Are these words written with affectionate feelings?

When I was fiddling with the carving knife, frowning at the contradiction with the story I just read,
Suddenly, with the sound of old hinges squeaking behind you, the door opened.

“Oh my God? Are you… Preparing for a play again?”

The moment I heard a woman’s soft voice, I couldn’t do anything.
Her body was so stiff that it was impossible to look back, and even her vocal cords were so stiff that her voice could not come out.

As I slowly approached from behind, and gently hugged my back,

“Oh, I was going to keep it a secret… But it got caught.”

My mouth began to speak on its own. What the heck is this…

“Uh-huh… It’s okay. I like your story.
So? What are you talking about this time? What mask is that?”

“That…”

At the woman’s question, my hand placed the unfinished mask on my face.

While I was worried that something was going wrong,
What was forgotten behind the mask and what was happening in reality were reflected.

My soul, which was corrupted by the betrayal of the mask, and the saints who were taken away.

My mask, which I moved to get a body for the goal of being a ‘witch’ and get rid of the mask that is also a witch candidate.
No, it’s not my mask anymore. Something that sucks desire out of me and goes one step ahead,
It is not a thing called a mask, but a creature that is changing into something. Yeah, that’s what I mean…

Then I have a way too. A way to get everything back and fuck the mask.

“Huh? So what are you talking about?”

Leaning on her back, she smiled, said as she took off her unfinished mask.

“…The miserable story of a liar and traitor, it shouldn’t be that bright… Are you okay?”

“Did I tell you? I like everything about you.”

After saying that, the woman patted me on the back and walked away.
Only then did she look back and search for the woman who had left behind me, but she was also nowhere to be seen.

“…”

I don’t know what she is, but she saved her life thanks to that woman.

If he had returned to reality without knowing anything, he would have been stuck as a desire dispenser.
A life that ends with being seduced by saints who are under the control of a mask and immersed in pleasure,
It may not be a bad life for some people, but I’m not one to be taken advantage of.

Rather, a pervert who likes to bully and conquer.

So I can’t forgive the mask that dared to fuck me.
I can’t forgive the mask that tried to take away the things I conquered.

If mine were taken away and even the means to take it back were lost, I made it myself.

Grab a carving knife on the table and pull the mask that is only in shape.

The way to make it is in this cabin, in my head.
This is the first time I’ve touched something called a carving knife, but I’m sure it’ll work somehow…

“Well then…”

When I opened the curtains blocking the sunlight, the letters engraved on the blade shone with the bright light.

“…With desires and wishes.”

Abruptly-

According to the instructions that popped into my head, and according to someone’s message written on the blade, I cut the tree.

Come to think of it, the letters on the back, should I write them in Korean?

* *

“…Lady, Lady Harumu.”

“I’m sorry, yes…”

When I open my eyes, I know that a hazy gray figure is calling me.
Oh, when the hell did I fall asleep? I’m sure my mother told me to prepare for the guests…

“Ha, one?! How can I…!”

“The younger one fought for you and lost. To Isabelle.”

“…Is that so…”

I couldn’t raise my head because I couldn’t say anything.

For today, my mother and I tried hard, but in the end we couldn’t win against Isabel Kang.
Your mother must have been angry too, right? I, Harumu… Compared to my older brothers, I am a useless child…

“It’s okay, lady. The mission hasn’t started yet.
If you apply for sparring again now, you don’t know?”

“…”

In front of me with my head bowed, I feel Hana handing over to me.

“Ah, one…”

Holding the one hand that only allows me to be myself—

“Who are you?”

“…”

Pulling out her sword lying beside her bed, he pulls at her.

Even so, the day after the coming-of-age ceremony was over yesterday, I was surprised that Hana’s atmosphere changed drastically.
She’s always been the cold, emotionless one, but when it comes to me, she’s the one who’s been very agitated.
But she answered me one thing from yesterday. It was warmer than usual.
If you see that he is comfortable in his heart, he must have been kind to me as a child.

However, the one in front of me right now is strange.

Hana doesn’t use such a light and vulgar tone. And above all…

“…Your hand, not a single sense. Name it.”

Raise the blade and bring it to the neck of the one wearing the shell.
Then, speaking with one voice, a terrified laugher spoke.

“That’s it? You were a ‘sense’.”

“—?! How did you do that…!”

How does this person know what only my mother and I know…?

Something unusual is happening.
At that time when, without delay, he put speed into his hands and tried to cut off one’s head,

“Isabelle.”

“Yes, Mother.”

A menacing sign appeared at some point and aimed at me from behind.
​

I hurriedly tried to avoid it, but Hana grabbed the blade of the sword and threw me off balance.

Then-

Shuak–

Raise the edge of the sword and push it up with a little force.
I feel the clean cut of one finger with a tremor,
I turned around and swung my sword at the assailant behind me and overhead, following my unbalanced balance.

“What?!”

I obviously intended to cut the assailant’s head in two, but the blade didn’t touch anything.
Before I knew it, he stepped on me and jumped backwards to avoid it. It is not a human physical ability.

“…Are you all saints?”

“…For now, this body I’m wearing is a saint, but I’m not that trivial.”

“My mother is a witch, an object of worship that everyone should look up to.”

“…I can’t help but be able to talk to you.”

In addition to one voice, another presence that can be felt, this must be the customer I fought with as a child.
But I know for sure. These are non-human saints, enemies of mankind. It’s something I have to cut down on.

Wipe off the blood on the sword and take a stance.

We must defend against the attacks of those two bodies and prioritize informing the attack inside the mansion.
Raise the sword above your head and step back very slowly.

“You don’t have to be so scared~ I just wanted to ask where the mask is.”

“…If you go? I don’t know about that. This mansion doesn’t have one.”

“No, there is. Someone in this mansion… I can feel the presence of the mask and its owner.
And Harumu Yumekawa, who received power from that mask, is also in this mansion. Whoops…”

There’s a mask in this mansion…? Besides the owner? That kind of thing, my mother said nothing…

“Ah, I don’t even bother asking questions anymore. I’ll just make you my saintess and blow it all up.
If it’s the desire I have right now, it’ll be possible to put a letter inside of you~”

No, focus on those two bodies instead of that right now…!

“Noah.”

“Yes, Mother!”

Ceiling…?!

Squeak–

“Uhh–“

* *