The Face Only Others Can See
"You can't see it?"
"……."
I rubbed my eyes and looked again, harder this time.
For a moment, something like the silhouette of a human head seemed to hover there as a faint afterimage—but then,
Fwoosh!
Even that was swallowed by the sway of the blue flame and snuffed out at once.
"You really can't see it? For real?"
"No."
"……."
Lumina paused at my answer, tilting what passed for her head. A brief silence stretched between us. Then, a beat late, she clapped her hands.
"Ah, right. Your mana's ridiculously low even for a human, isn't it? Yeah. That'd do it."
She burst out laughing.
"Ahaha! With mana that thin, it's hard to believe you're even from Taepyeong City. Yeah, that tracks."
"Is that going to be a problem? Couldn't there be humans among the guards with as little mana as me?"
"It's fine. Pure humans are pretty rare in Taepyeong City, but this choker was made to pick up even those. It'll work."
"I see."
"By Taepyeong City standards, you're the weird one, Minchul. I bet you're the only person walking around with basically zero mana."
"So I'm not defective or anything?"
"Of course nooot~. Even a little kid would see the face just fine."
The flame at her neck swayed with a soft, liquid shimmer as she spoke.
"So to your eyes, it's still just my flame?"
Lumina, choker fastened, leaned in close—close enough that if she'd had a head, it would have brushed my shoulder. A sweet scent drifted past the tip of my nose, as if she were double-checking whether I truly couldn't see a face.
"Yes. Not even an afterimage. I was looking forward to it, too. Kind of a shame."
"Yeah? That's actually a relief. Honestly… I was hoping to hide it a little."
Hide it?
"Hide what?"
"The face this choker makes. It projects the ideal type buried in the viewer's subconscious and shows them that."
"Ideal type……."
"Mm. So I felt a little guilty, wondering if a fake face might plant too big a fantasy in your head. But if you can't see it at all……. That's better, actually. I'm glad."
As she said it, the blue flame above the clean cross-section of her neck swayed gently.
So it wasn't a real face.
If the illusion had worked the way she described, I might have sat there staring, dumbstruck, at whatever ideal face the choker had planted on her neck.
"You're right. That is a relief."
"Hm?"
"Getting bewitched by a fake isn't really my style either. If I'm going to fall for someone, I'd rather do it looking at the real face."
"…You really come in hot sometimes, you know that?"
"Sorry?"
"…Never mind. Forget it."
The flame at her neck flared up bright and sudden. I could feel the fluster in it. Expressing emotion through fire was so perfectly, unmistakably Lumina. If she'd had a face, would I have read it in her expression instead?
"What about the clothes, though? Even if the face fools people, that rider jacket is way too eye-catching."
"Ah, I'll show you that in a bit. Feel free to look forward to it."
The moment she finished speaking, she casually slipped her arm through mine.
"Alright. Shall we test whether this thing's working properly?"
The soft, full press of her chest sank against my arm again.
Ah—
That was… a lot of contact.
"Don't you dare let go."
"I-Isn't linking arms a little early? The auction house is still a long way off."
"Oh my. Are you embarrassed?"
She giggled and went on.
"I've got to soak up plenty of warmth in advance. Otherwise how am I supposed to sell the act properly?"
"…You've got a point."
Without meaning to, I turned my gaze the other way. If I kept looking, I was going to keep noticing the beads of sweat slipping down into the valley of her chest—and I had definitely not been staring on purpose.
"Let's go."
My face burned. The soft give of her against my arm was almost violently distracting. Still, I couldn't pull away. Her logic about transferring warmth held up, after all.
Stiff as a board, I started walking.
The second we stepped out of the alley, one of the mercenaries passing by stared at Lumina so hard he walked face-first into a utility pole.
Thud!
"Ow, shit! My nose!"
"Dude. Did you see that woman? Holy— I've been alive a long time and I have never seen anyone that gorgeous."
"Why is a beauty like that with a guy like him……?"
"Is he human? Women go crazy for human guys. And he does look pretty clean-cut……."
"Even if he is human, that's still ridiculously unfair."
"I'm so fucking jealous."
Stares and awed muttering poured in from every direction. Apparently her claim about looking like people's ideal types was the real deal.
"Heh. Perfect, right?"
Lumina tipped her face-flame up toward me and whispered. To my eyes there was still nothing but the empty cross-section of a neck—but the fire burning above it curved into a pretty crescent, like a mischievous smiling eye.
"Perfect. If we walk in like this, no one's going to suspect a thing."
"Good. Then let's move."
"When we're on the bike, should I keep holding your waist the whole time?"
"I'd love that, but…… we can't risk wrecking the outfit I went to so much trouble setting up."
Standing in front of the bike, Lumina pulled the key from her jacket. She pressed the button dangling from the keychain.
Fwaaat—.
Light wrapped the motorcycle. When it faded, what stood there was—
"Huh?"
—a high-end sports car in the exact same color as the bike. A sleek machine with a design that echoed that famous brand whose emblem was a charging bull.
"We're taking this."
"This thing transforms too?"
"I was a decent hunter in my day, you know. Of course I've got an item or two at this level."
"Whoa……."
Half-entranced, I climbed into the passenger seat.
"Alright. Moving out?"
Once she was in the car, she was somehow already wearing a pair of black sunglasses I hadn't seen her grab. The shades sat oddly atop the wavering flame, shifting with every flicker.
"Uh? Lumina, those……."
"The car changed. The accessories have to match."
How were sunglasses even staying on a flame?
I only had a second to entertain that minor mystery before she hit the gas.
Vwooooom—!!!
In what felt like an instant, we arrived in the 7th District.
"You get out first."
"What about you?"
"What, you planning to watch me change?"
How was she even supposed to change in a space that tight?
"Pervert."
"Excuse me?"
"You just pictured me changing, didn't you?"
"N-No, that's not—"
Lumina covered her chest with both hands and laughed wickedly. Her flame crackled and thrashed roughly.
"Understood. I'm getting out."
"Heh. That's a good boy. I'll be right out, so just wait a little."
The air in the 7th District was cold. Cold enough that it was hard to believe we were still in the same Taepyeong City—a strangely chilled atmosphere.
That thought barely had time to settle before the car door opened and Lumina stepped out.
She was wearing an elegant navy evening dress that left her back and the lines of her shoulders beautifully bare. The bodice covered her chest, but the cut left the sides of her breasts faintly exposed—a dizzying design.
"Wow……."
Any question of how she'd changed had already evaporated. What did the process matter? Not when she was wearing a dress that beautiful.
The empty space above her neck still gave off a faint sense of wrongness—but to everyone else, it wouldn't look that way at all.
"Shall we go in, then?"
She stepped away from the car and locked her arms tightly around mine.
"From here on, don't leave my side."
"……Okay."
My answer came half a beat late; I was a little too busy appreciating the feel of her chest.
"I'll let it slide. Just this once."
It's not my fault your chest is that big, I thought—and wisely kept the words locked behind my teeth.
We headed into the back alleys of the 7th District, where the auction house waited. The air around us grew bleaker, but maybe it was the press of Lumina's chest against my arm—my hands stayed strangely warm.
"The warmth of a living human really is nice."
At her whispered words, I turned my head on impulse and looked at her neck.
Fwoooosh—!
The flame that usually burned a pure blue was thrashing wildly now, tinged with a faint violet. And when she finished speaking, she was staring straight ahead—not at me.
Lumina… are you nervous?
At the Black Moon Pawnshop, tucked into a back alley of the 7th District, the duck beastkin Donald was grinding through another dull day of inspections at the entrance.
"Quack. Doing this crap once or twice is one thing……."
"Stop complaining. There's a special auction today. Of course the higher-ups are being picky."
The orc guard standing beside him tried to settle Donald down. Donald pouted his beak and kept grumbling.
"Yeah, but still. Installing a life-sign detector like the ones they use in the Tower? One of those things costs three years of my salary, quack."
"A high-rank undead's head is on the block. Of course they did."
"Quack. How expensive can a head even be? What, you eat an undead head and get stronger or something, quack?"
"I heard she used to be one hell of a knight. Famous enough that there's barely an undead who hasn't heard of her."
"So what, quack? She's dead. All that's left is a head."
"Research, probably. Or like you said—maybe someone wants to cook up a reagent to get stronger."
"Quack. Or maybe the original owner shows up and buys it back for a fortune?"
"As if. If the original owner were still around, you think they'd politely buy it? They'd try to take it by force. And even undead die if you cut their heads off."
Ah.
Donald understood a beat too late. So the original owner wouldn't be coming to buy it. That was why they were clamping down so hard on undead entry.
People called him birdbrained sometimes. Couldn't be helped. Donald's head was, in fact, a duck's—quick and sharp-eyed, but always a little late on the uptake. Dense as he was, it never even occurred to him that the owner might come to snatch it.
"Anyway, focus from here on. If any Endless people show up, we filter them out somehow."
"Endless? Those black-company psychos? Quack. I've heard the rumors about their director being obsessed with that kind of stuff, but… why the hell would they come all the way to a shady auction like this?"
"They might. Who knows what that lunatic mage who burned even the World Tree is thinking."
The two guards were deep in their gossip when two figures emerged from the mouth of the gloomy alley.
"Hey. Customers. Stand up straight."
Donald hurriedly fixed his sloppy posture and cleared his throat.
"……Quack?!"
An involuntary, pure duck squawk burst out of him before he could stop it.
The woman clinging tightly to the man's arm—wearing an elegant deep-navy dress—was simply too beautiful. A peerless beauty. Calling her perfectly gorgeous would not have been an overstatement.
Donald stared at her, utterly lost.
I-Insane, quack…….
His gaze drifted, as if by natural law, to the man beside her. See a beautiful female and your eyes go to the male next to her—that was just how it worked. Holding a tiny hope that the guy might be worse off than him, Donald looked.
The man's clothes were neat, but nothing about them screamed expensive luxury brands. And yet there was an unreadable confidence rolling off him. A woman that stunning had her chest pressed to his arm, cheeks flushed, fingers laced tight through his—and the man looked completely unfazed. The woman, on the other hand, seemed terrified he might let go.
The contrast hit Donald hard.
Why would a beauty like that be with such an ordinary guy……?
Is he packing?
His eyes dropped before he could stop them. No—too far. Think the opposite. An extraordinary being disguised as ordinary. Some unimaginably rich tycoon, maybe. He'd heard the real ones always preferred to look plain. Otherwise there was no way a presence could feel this thoroughly average.
"Is there a problem?"
The man spoke in a flat voice, and Donald jumped, thrusting the top-grade life-sign detector forward.
Wiiiiing— beep-beep!
A clean green light filled the detector's screen. Confirming the pair weren't undead, Donald bowed his head.
"No problem at all. One last thing I'd like to check, quack. Do you have an invitation? Tonight's lots are special, so inspections are thorough, quack."
At that, the man looked at the woman. Without a word he held out his hand, and she hurriedly dug an invitation out of the bag she was carrying. Watching her scramble at a single gesture from him, Donald felt a crushing sense of defeat as a male.
So fucking jealous.
Making a woman like that flustered… that was a real man. Aah. Jealous.
"…Checks out, quack."
The invitation was genuine.
"Right this way, quack."
Terrified of offending the man, Donald froze up and bowed a full ninety degrees at the waist.
"We hope you enjoy a pleasant auction, honored guests!"
The orc guard, equally stiff with military tension, threw open the doors of the Black Moon Pawnshop.
"That went smoother than I expected."
Lumina let out a breath. Sweat was pouring from the hand locked around my arm. Just how wound up had she been?
"So we're clear now?"
"Yeah. All that's left is winning the item at auction."
"Easier than I thought."
"I told you it wouldn't be hard. Even if someone clocks us halfway through, I've got ways to handle it, so don't worry. And……."
Lumina tightened her grip.
"As long as you don't let go of me, we won't get caught."
With her soft little laugh, we stepped into the auction hall.
The place was packed. A reasonably convincing chandelier hung from the ceiling, but peeling paint and the musty tang of mildew in the air betrayed a cheapness no amount of dressing-up could hide.
In the seats sat everyone from scarred, hard-eyed mercenaries to mages buried deep in concealing robes to shifty-looking fences. That was most of the crowd. A few wealthy types who seemed to have come hunting rare curios sat frowning, eyeing their surroundings with open wariness. There was only so far you could fake luxury.
Before long, an auctioneer in a tuxedo mounted the podium, and the auction began in earnest.
Most of it was junk. Old magic tools of unknown origin. Bone fragments from illegally captured low-grade monsters. Weapons still crusted with dried blood. Once-discontinued merchandise, and so on. The crowd's reaction stayed lukewarm, and Lumina, clearly uninterested, simply leaned against my arm and kept quiet.
The dull stretch finally ended. At last the auctioneer, voice swelling with theatrical energy, introduced the highlight lot.
"And now—the final item you've all been waiting for!"
The black curtain at the center of the stage was drawn back, revealing a clear glass case. The murmuring hall fell silent in an instant.
Inside, a luxurious red velvet cushion had been laid out, and resting upon it was the head of a beautiful woman with long silver hair cascading down. Her skin was bloodlessly pale—but one look was enough. This was the high-rank undead head Lumina had spoken of.
Not a single wound marked the face with its closed eyes. A perfect face, like a finely carved statue—the head of a high-rank undead of captivating beauty.
Through our joined hands, I could feel Lumina's heart hammering as if it meant to burst.
"Lumina… that face. Is that your head?"
I kept my voice carefully low. Given how violently she was reacting, I expected an immediate yes.
But—
"…I don't know."
The blue flame wavering above the cross-section of her neck trembled uneasily.
"What?"
I blurted it out in shock, and she squeezed my hand a little tighter, whispering in a lonely voice.
"Honestly… I don't remember what my face looked like……."
"Then what do we do?"
"If I touch it, I'll know. If it's really my head, I'm sure I'll feel an instinctive pull the moment I do. I'm sure of it……."
Then there was only one way forward.
"We'll win it. Whatever it takes."
"We have to. No—we will."
Steeling herself, Lumina raised her hand.