Chapter 131
Chapter 131
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 131
Chapter Title: Masquerade Invitation
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“Chapter 131
Short Explanation”
“Sigh...”
I took a moment to draw in a breath.
‘Masquerade, huh... Even I’d have a hard time handling this event.’
Right. I haven’t even checked the letter’s contents yet, have I?
“Let’s open it first.”
The envelope contained two sheets of paper.
One was a folded A4 sheet, and the other was a cute picture postcard reminiscent of a Christmas card.
“Huh, it’s a bear?”
Heo Sanghyeon’s voice carried a note of bewilderment.
He looked relieved for a moment, a hollow smile creeping across his face as if to say, ‘What? I must’ve misunderstood.’
For now, I nodded in agreement with him.
“Yeah, a cute bear design.”
Amusingly enough, the postcard featured an image of a shy purple bear waving hello.
A dainty little bear with colorful candies drawn on its belly, no less.
Unfortunately, this wasn’t a situation to relax in.
If anything, it was a danger signal.
In this world, there was only one lunatic who’d send a postcard like this to a 150-year-old skeletal necromancer.
Dokgo Gyeom.
One of the most dangerous figures in the Cthulhu World.
Well, if it’s Masquerade, it has to be Dokgo Gyeom.
“This is a letter from Dokgo Gyeom. Probably an invitation.”
Heo Sanghyeon stared at me with a look of curiosity, as if I were some kind of marvel.
“You haven’t even read it yet, but you’re speaking as if you already know the contents?”
“Oh, it’s because I know what Masquerade is.”
Masquerade was a very special gathering.
It was an organization founded by one of the insane NPCs in [Cthulhu World] with the goal of uniting all religions...
‘A profit-driven group that transcends sects and cults.’
A pan-religious alliance for cultists, aimed at mutual growth and rights improvement, while blocking off those annoying fixers and regulators from the cultists’ perspective.
There were membership fees, fun info swaps among themselves, occasional workshops, care for weddings and funerals, holiday gifts, lending money to each other, avenging dead friends...
Cultists were, practically speaking, fringe religions, but they got along well.
I could even guess what was written on the postcard.
Let’s see.
“The stars’ orbits are unsettled. Soon, the stars will return to their places. Before that day comes, we need a gathering to decide the Judges’ direction. Prepare your masks. Though the date is short notice, I intend to hold the Masquerade.”
Ah, damn. Spot on.
It was cultists from different religions donning masks and gathering for a friendly exchange.
Of course, it wouldn’t end with just exchanges.
Exchanges were usually a light pre-event warm-up, while the main event was a joint ritual with cultists from various sects converging in one place.
I shook my head and turned to Heo Sanghyeon.
“They sent this without knowing Heo Joo is dead?”
“There are too many words I don’t understand.”
Heo Sanghyeon wore a completely baffled expression.
“Well, it’s nothing major. Basically—”
Hmm, explaining this in detail would take forever. Do I really need to?
“—it’s a gathering of the Judges from each cult.”
“Judges...? People like the previous master? Like cult leaders?”
Ah, do I have to start explaining from there?
“No, not exactly. It’s just a title cultists made up on their own.”
“On their own?”
It was a title with no real roots.
The abyssal beings—gods from the cultists’ view—didn’t call them that, nor was it recognized outside their circle.
Even in the Call of Cthulhu lore that [Cthulhu World] was based on, there was no such title. It existed only here.
“Abyssal beings are like gods to cultists, right? If one cultist draws too much attention from such an entity and becomes famous beyond their sect, they decide to call them a Judge.”
Usually, it went to leader-level figures, but sometimes even non-leaders like Hwain inherited titles or traits.
Or those with exceptional talent, or ones wielding legendary artifacts to perform miracles, and so on.
“Hmm...”
Was that too wordy? Heo Sanghyeon looked like he was struggling to memorize it all.
In short, it was like this.
“The strongest guy in each cult. Depending on the cult’s structure, it might not even be the leader.”
“So those people gather and...”
“What do you think a bunch of skull-headed freaks from each cult would do? They’d get together and hold a massive blood ritual—on a scale Heo Joo used to do alone like a beggar.”
“Ah.”
A wildly exciting, fun, and world-shatteringly horrific evil ritual would take place—one that could alter this world’s fate.
As such, the danger waiting was on a whole different level from quests, events, or random encounters I’d faced before.
Each cult sent their strongest.
Plus their most promising disciples—the numbers varied slightly each time, but...
‘With my Feast of Offerings trait, if I go, it’ll probably draw the maximum turnout?’
That meant at least 300 people?
Not petty cultists, but around 50 like Heo Joo or Hwain.
Their direct disciples, about 100.
And 150 small fry for running the event and serving.
Before clear methods were found, players even called it an intentional instant-death trap by the devs.
“What to do...”
Heo Sanghyeon, who’d been looking anxious beside me, grew even gloomier. He looked the part of the monster mansion’s ghostly butler—positively eerie.
“You’re not thinking of attending, are you?”
“Well, depending on the situation. Either way, I’ll have to leave the house for a day or two.”
“A day or two?”
Heo Sanghyeon rolled his huge eyes threateningly, his face twisting into something odd.
“Huh? Why the face?”
“Every time you’ve announced an overnight trip before, it’s stretched to at least a week.”
“Ugh, Cheongeumdang wasn’t something I could control. Cheongho... well, no excuses there.”
“The number of intruders is steadily increasing.”
Ah, a butler’s warning?
Heo Sanghyeon wasn’t whining out of boredom.
Even in-game, the butler character often warned of risks during absences. This seemed like that.
The residence’s notoriety had risen, or infamy—something like that.
“Guess I need to bolster the mansion’s defenses.”
The test subjects I’d scattered around weren’t enough. Maybe catch a bunch of wraiths and release them?
“Wouldn’t those defenses be drawing even more intruders?”
Heo Sanghyeon cautiously objected.
“Ah, word’s getting around?”
“Word? You did this on purpose?”
“Well, a moderate level means auto-farming, right?”
Heo Sanghyeon wouldn’t get this.
Sure enough, he just made a face like ‘He’s spouting nonsense again’ and said no more. Thanks to my usual ramblings.
“Anyway.”
I waved it off to wrap up.
“Not going comes with its own problems.”
Non-attendees faced penalties.
Not just fines.
They’d be treated as quitters, and the entire Judge assembly would mark the Starving Mansion as hostile.
‘The extras would take turns raiding us?’
If Heo Joo’s death came out, they’d try holding it here.
That wasn’t all. Ignoring the event brought other issues.
T’s Clock—the Ruin Counter.
‘One more star on the Ruin Counter.’
A real headache.
An event with beggar-level obstacles beyond my current level, but skipping it led to even worse beggar situations.
Heo Sanghyeon widened those huge eyes of his... Wow, how does he open them that big? Anyway, with eyes that wide, he said,
“So we have no choice but to accept the invitation?”
Heo Sanghyeon seemed to grasp my point.
The shadows under his eyes had darkened to a bluish hue.
“Don’t worry. Here, we just use the strat to cancel the event itself.”
“Huh?”
Heo Sanghyeon sounded utterly baffled.
Ah, damn. Talking game mechanics made me sound like a streamer.
“Oh, slipped out. Eh, why would I go? Just head there early, burn it down, and the gathering won’t happen.”
“Burn... it?”
“Heh, events need a venue, right?”
It was bugged play, but wrecking the meeting spot beforehand prevented it.
Not easy, though.
To block such abusing, [Cthulhu World] quests often randomized locations.
But this time, I knew it in advance?
“They kindly announced the location ahead. Go early, torch it all—simple.”
Ah, sure, clearing normally gave random artifacts.
‘But most stuff from this is useless anyway, so skipping’s fine.’
No rewards or EXP due to the bug play.
Better than suffering amid hundreds of cultists in that nightmare spot—cancelling outright was safer.
Alright, plan set!
This strat needed quick action.
Let’s check the event date.
The schedule was on the enclosed A4 sheet.
‘Tight timeline.’
Ugh, such a pain. Speedrun time after ages?
And below, the venue.
“Heh, Sejong City?”
They picked a far-off spot. How’s a rickety bone grandpa supposed to get there?
Then the event lineup below.
Immoral feasts with unethical ingredients.
Main event with human sacrifices.
And other sadistic, nauseating acts not worth detailing.
And more, and...
Huh?
An unexpected line caught my eye.
The clear reward, random from a player’s view.
It was listed.
‘The owner of the [Faceless One’s Mask] will also be decided this time.’
They’re giving [Faceless One’s Mask] as a reward?
Again, cancelling the event is best play.
‘But...’
Blocking it means no artifact.
‘Give this up?’
My reflection stared back from the living room mirror.
A mad wizard’s visage.
An insane mage always wearing a grotesque mask.
I already had an L-rank mask artifact.
Unless I had two faces, another mask was useless.
And like my single face, I had one life.
I’d stuck my neck out before, but those were extreme situations. No need for pointless risks when I knew what’d happen.
I needed cool judgment now.
Yeah, Kim Shin-hwa. Get a grip.
“Hmm... But still, this is tempting.”