The Mask and Nabi
I stared at the castle entrance with eyes heavy with thought. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined standing here again. The massive front gate looked exactly as I remembered it, radiating the same eerie chill and oppressive dread. Then again, since this place was reconstructed from my own memories, it would have been stranger if it hadn’t felt familiar. Yet while the gate matched my recollection perfectly, my situation was nothing like before.
The companions who once walked ahead and offered their hands were gone. My own appearance had changed so drastically that I might as well have been a completely different person. Most importantly, I was no longer watching the battle from behind—I had to clear this dungeon myself. Alone. No help from anyone.
If I asked ten active hunters whether one person could solo a dungeon, what would they say? The answers would vary slightly depending on their roles, but the first words out of everyone’s mouth would probably be, “Are you out of your mind?” And if the person asking was still under level 20, the replies would likely be far harsher.
There were many reasons, but the biggest was the unpredictable variables. The world inside a dungeon was a complete unknown—no one had ever set foot there before. We couldn’t even be sure what existed inside, let alone map its geography from outside the gate. If I went in alone and got trapped with no way out? Death would be certain. That rule applied to even the strongest hunters. The more experienced they were, the more they emphasized teamwork. They had learned through bitter experience that no matter how powerful an Awakener might be, entering a dungeon alone was an enormous risk.
That was why the equipment the cat had given me was so valuable—it perfectly compensated for those weaknesses. I looked down at the white mask in my hands for a moment, then slipped it over my face. The moment I did, my vision transformed. The castle’s internal layout unfolded before my eyes, along with every trap and monster scattered throughout. It was an absurdly overpowered ability for something that looked like an ordinary mask.
Of course, this wasn’t the mask’s original function. I removed it again and recalled the conversation I’d just had. The support gear I needed to clear the dungeon alone—this new mask with its special functions was exactly that. Come to think of it, the mask I’d been holding had vanished during the transfer. I’d found that strange, but it turned out the cat had quietly taken it in the meantime.
Despite proudly presenting it, the mask looked no different from the first white one I’d seen. When I stared at it with obvious suspicion, Uru shot me a mocking glance.
“Hah~ You really don’t know anything, do you? The higher an item’s performance, the simpler and smaller its appearance becomes! This is a custom piece I personally modified for you. You couldn’t find something like this even if you tried.”
The way it looked at me like I was an idiot made me bristle. Even setting performance aside, anything that had passed through that cat’s paws was automatically suspicious. There was no telling what kind of shady modifications it might have made. My instincts screamed at me not to put it on.
Still, under Uru’s relentless urging, I reluctantly donned the mask. The result was far better than I’d feared. The overwhelming performance—seeing the castle’s interior structure clearly even from this distance—was beyond surprising. It was on an entirely different level from the crude mapping devices most parties used.
Of course, I could create equipment with similar functions myself if I wanted to. This was a dream world, after all; with enough imagination, anything was possible. But the mask’s true specialty lay elsewhere.
“Hmm… Nabi?”
[Response] Autonomous Combat Support Program ‘Nabi’ — Normal Operation.
When I tried calling its name, a response came immediately. The mechanical voice echoing in my head made me marvel inwardly. Facing an actual AI straight out of a sci-fi movie stirred up a strange sense of childhood romance. This was the other function of the mask the cat had so proudly prepared. Its basic ability was to supplement my still-immature combat sense with real-time support. According to Uru, it could also brief me on surrounding battle conditions and provide various other forms of assistance.
I hadn’t tested it in actual combat yet, so I’d have to evaluate its performance later, but just from the description, my jaw dropped.
“The goal and method of this special training are both aimed at strengthening your combat power! Besides what I’ve given you now, there should be other resources inside the dungeon that you’ll need to clear it. Try using your head and overcoming this training on your own. …Since you’ve been given this opportunity, you might as well get used to ‘that body’ as much as possible, right?”
Uru ended its explanation there. Even after hearing everything, I couldn’t relax my expression. Honestly, I still had doubts about whether this training would succeed. The support it provided was certainly generous, but that didn’t guarantee a successful solo clear. Still, since there was no limit to attempts, I had no choice but to throw myself into it and see.
While I was examining the new mask Uru had given me, a good idea suddenly occurred to me. According to the explanation, this program “Nabi” was an all-knowing top-tier AI. In that case, it might also know the identity of that shady perverted cat. Of course, given how meticulous the cat was, it probably hadn’t left such an obvious loophole. Still, there was nothing to lose by trying.
Once I made up my mind, putting it into action didn’t take long.
“Nabi? You know your creator’s name, right?”
[Affirmative] It is the self-proclaimed ‘Ulthar.’
“Then do you also know what that perverted cat’s true identity is?”
[Searching]……
The smooth, responsive AI suddenly froze like stone. When the silence stretched on no matter how long I waited, I let out a small sigh of resignation. Of course. There was no way the cat would have left that kind of opening. It had obviously put a gag order on anything related to its own identity.
I hadn’t really expected much, but just as I was clicking my tongue in vague disappointment, something completely unexpected happened.
The mechanical voice kept repeating the same word as if the system had crashed. The sound was enough to send a subtle chill down anyone’s spine. Combined with the mask’s ever-smiling design, the unsettling feeling doubled. What worried me most, however, was practical. If this equipment broke down right when I was about to attempt a reckless solo clear, things would get very complicated. If the program itself was damaged, I’d have to call the cat, which would naturally require explaining why—and once it found out I’d been secretly digging into its identity, there was no telling what demands it would make next. Just imagining the sly grin it would wear after learning everything made my skin crawl.
I had to prevent that worst-case scenario at all costs…
Right after that, a series of ridiculous, desperate attempts began. I shook the mask, tried the folk remedy of smacking it, and even resorted to more drastic measures. But the mask continued shouting “Error” without any improvement. If anything, it felt like its condition had slightly worsened—though that might have just been my imagination.
After causing a complete ruckus, I was about to give up and call the cat when, miraculously, the voice stopped. I held my breath and waited. Then, finally, the answer to my earlier question came through.
[Answer] No matching lifeform found in Earth’s database… A completely new lifeform—in other words, an unknown existence.
Nabi’s reply, delivered in the tense silence, wasn’t much different from what I’d expected. Yet the meaning behind it felt slightly more ominous. I had only thought of it as some suspicious, unidentified being… but hearing the concrete information that it was a lifeform not native to Earth sent a cold sensation crawling across my entire body. It felt like I had heard something I wasn’t supposed to know.
Just as I stood there with a stiff expression, a voice suddenly rang in my ears.
[Request] Master.
“Kyaaah!!!!”
I leapt straight into the air at the voice that suddenly came from right beside me. I was already on edge, so my body reacted before my mind could catch up. But no matter how much I turned my head and looked around, there was no one there. Of course there wasn’t—I’d already confirmed the area was empty moments ago. While I clutched my racing heart, my eyes fell on the white mask in my hand. For some reason, it felt like the mask itself was giving me a sidelong glance.
Only then did I realize the voice belonged to Nabi. I let out a deep sigh of relief and spoke.
“…What? It was you? Geez, my heart. At least give some kind of warning… No, wait, an AI wouldn’t have a presence to begin with.”
Even as I said it, I knew it was an unreasonable demand. I quickly tried to hide my flushed face. I never imagined it would initiate contact first. Still, the fact that someone my age had reacted like a frightened child was mortifying. I could barely lift my head from embarrassment.
Paying no mind to my state, the AI continued in its blunt tone, stating its business.
[Complaint] Even if the main unit appeared to be malfunctioning, striking it with a fist is unacceptable.
“??…”
[Further Complaint] I do not feel pain, but such actions are highly unpleasant. Additionally, the main unit possesses a self-repair program, so please refrain from such uncivilized behavior.
I was stunned into silence by Nabi’s completely unexpected words. The AI then fell silent, as if it were a sulking human. Unlike any other AI I’d encountered, this one felt distinctly different. But what caught my attention more was something else entirely.
How dare a mere piece of malfunctioning equipment lecture its master? It was strangely irritating. Especially the subtly dismissive tone mixed into its mechanical voice—it was enough to get on my nerves. First the perverted cat, and now even the AI… As expected, creations took after their creator. Even the unpleasant parts were identical.
And I was not a kind enough master to let my own equipment get away with that attitude.
“Nabi. Who is your master?”
[Answer] Magical Girl Kim Seo-ah.
“Hah… This little shit. So I’m that easy to push around, huh? When you said that damn cat’s name, you used honorifics every single time, but with your actual master you just keep using casual speech.”
I’d noticed it earlier—the AI had been deliberately speaking to me in casual, disrespectful tones. At first I thought it was just how it was programmed, but when it referred to the cat, it had clearly used polite language. That meant it was choosing its speech style of its own free will.
Even after my pointed remark, Nabi pushed back strongly.
[Warning] A noble magical girl does not use such crude language. Please mind your tone.
“……”
In that instant, the last thread of reason I’d been holding onto snapped. With a blank expression, I reached out my hand. A boiling pot of water materialized on the empty ground. Steam rising from the pristine white pot, I smiled with madness in my eyes and slowly stroked the white mask.
“Say that again. One more time. If you don’t answer properly, I might just turn our Nabi into Nabi-tang.”
Nabi fell silent for a moment, perhaps startled by the sudden turn of events. It was probably searching for the meaning of “Nabi-tang.” Once it realized the situation it was in, the AI quickly spoke up.
[Reflection] I won’t do it again. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please spare me, Master—no, Seo-ah-nim.
Faced with the prospect of being thrown into the violently boiling water, Nabi surrendered without resistance. If it had held out any longer, I really would have made Nabi-tang and asked the cat for a replacement. What an incredibly perceptive AI. After receiving the apology, I felt a twinge of guilt for using such terrifying methods, but I snorted. It should have listened when I asked nicely.