Chapter 423
Chapter 423
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 423
Chapter Title: Masquerade (1)
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Hesperon's eyes twitched as he monitored the situation in real time through his connection to Ken.
'Masquerade?'
A group of uninvited guests had crashed the Burning Torch's fiery rally.
It was because of the extremely familiar name that had suddenly popped out of their mouths.
"That's definitely..."
A name that he—more precisely, Heinz—had mentioned exactly once.
A fictitious organization name he'd tossed out carelessly right before dealing with the Doctor, one of the highest-ranking members of the Reverse Heaven Society in Europe.
He'd come up with it half in jest, and hadn't uttered it anywhere since.
'But if they know about it...'
It meant the Doctor he'd executed on the spot hadn't died completely and had managed to relay the information back to the Reverse Heaven Society.
...Of course, he'd half-expected that might happen.
'Hoo, it doesn't change much now. It's just confirming what was already a hypothesis. More importantly, those guys are the problem.'
His attention, which had briefly drifted elsewhere, refocused on the intruders.
Not just the 'Mimic' wearing the Supreme Leader's skin, but the six shadowy figures who had joined him.
As if to prove this was a trap meticulously prepared to target him, every one of them exuded an overwhelming aura.
'They really came prepared, huh? Ken's no pushover himself, but none of them are weaker than him. And that guy in the back... he must be the Executioner demon I've only heard about.'
Hesperon grimaced unconsciously upon spotting the man standing silently at the rear, hood pulled low over his face, yet radiating a presence that dwarfed the others.
A being whose full measure even Ken, now greatly strengthened, couldn't gauge.
The implications were obvious.
'...This won't be easy.'
While Hesperon was lost in thought for a moment, their conversation continued uninterrupted.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Wh-what? Playing dumb, you bastard? We already know everything! We know those guys are backing you!"
"No, really, this is the first I'm hearing of it... Hmm, is that right? Was that the name?"
"...Huh?"
The bald man bellowed accusingly, his face twisted in frustration, while Ken nodded along as if accepting the explanation.
Only then did realization dawn that he wasn't lying—his muttering about it sounding like a plausible organization name finally convinced them. The Reverse Heaven Society members' faces filled with disbelief.
At their level, discerning truth from words was child's play, which only amplified their exasperation.
"What? So you're saying he didn't even know the name of his own organization..."
The Southeast Asia branch chief of the Reverse Heaven Society trailed off, looking utterly dissatisfied, as if this wasn't what he'd expected.
If that was true, it wasn't even worth calling him a mere underling.
Outsourcing? Contractor? Part-timer?
Whatever the label, he fell far short of their original target.
Naturally, the man who'd sacrificed scarce resources and endured immense hardship for this operation felt a surge of injustice in his voice.
However...
The ones truly fit to burst with rage here were someone else entirely.
"—Masquerade, my ass. I don't give a damn."
A woman's growling voice cut through from the center of the Burning Torch executives, who had huddled together defensively.
Her words dripped with thick emotion, spat out like chewed-up anger.
"The Supreme Leader—Frey! What happened to him?!"
With her shout, a ferocious aura erupted from their cluster like an explosion about to burst.
The 'Mimic,' who had been eyeing Ken with arms crossed, turned the Supreme Leader's face toward them.
"Haa."
A short sigh escaped.
While their side seethed with tangible, blazing fury, the middle-aged man's expression showed not a speck of reaction.
As if a lion were gazing down indifferently at a yapping puppy right in front of its nose.
"Do I really have to spell it out? You're all hopelessly stupid."
"What... You...!"
"I have only one thing to say about him."
The moment those words ended.
A change rippled across his face, which had remained impassive since his true nature was exposed.
Every muscle in his face twisted in spasms, forming a grotesque smile that sent chills down the spine.
And from the Mimic's lips, curved in that warped grin, flowed a voice laced with eerie glee and bizarre fervor.
"—That was delicious."
"...!"
One hand patted his belly as he spoke.
For an instant, heavy silence swept the area.
But it didn't last.
"...You bastard!"
"How dare you!"
"I'll kill you—!"
Considering even An, who had exchanged telepathic messages with him multiple times beforehand, hadn't noticed anything amiss until facing him directly, it was hardly surprising.
It was simply impossible unless the Mimic possessed everything that had made up the Supreme Leader.
Yet, now that mere suspicion had become harsh reality, the pain cut even deeper.
"Frey... Ugh!"
He was the founder of Burning Torch, their guiding leader and spiritual pillar—and An's closest friend, to boot.
But to someone already stressed from derailed plans, the victims' fury was just appetizing bait.
"Oh my? While Freddy was buying time at the rear, you cowards bolted like rabbits. And now you pretend to care? Khahaha! This is so ridiculous I'm cracking up!"
As if it were perfect timing, the Southeast Asia branch chief—who'd clashed with them countless times—stepped forward with a sneer.
"He was impressive, sure. Our plans failed because of him more than once. Even escaped us several times, so he must've been confident."
The branch chief shrugged, as if acknowledging his foe.
But the mockery curling his lips made clear it was no compliment.
"His misfortune? Being your incompetent leader. See? This is what became of him! Hilarious, right? Right up to the end, that stubborn bastard wouldn't quit... and when death loomed, he just gave up in despair..."
"Shut your mouth, viper! He's no one a loser like you—who never once beat the Supreme Leader—can mock!"
The branch chief's gleeful rant cut off abruptly at the roar from the other side.
As if he'd poked a sore spot.
After a brief silence, he spoke again, his voice deeper and more subdued.
"...Fine, whatever. The last one standing is the ultimate victor, after all. And one correction: I'm not a viper—I'm a Nagaraja."
"Ha! Nagaraja, my ass. You're a snake through and through. You slimy, shameless prick."
"Kehuhu... Good. Very good. Let's see how long that fire lasts."
The clashing auras from both sides began vibrating the space itself.
One side braced for death, making it look evenly matched on the surface, but the power gap was so vast that even this verbal sparring shouldn't have been possible.
'...Ah, this is way beyond what grit alone can handle. The moment they clash, it'll be over in seconds.'
Ken, who had finally learned his organization's name thanks to the enemies.
From his most objective vantage point, he frowned and calmly assessed the situation.
They had superior numbers, but in this scenario, it meant little.
'Burning Torch has six who’ve crossed the wall. Not certain since they're not the same kind of demons, but roughly two marquises and four counts?'
Even then, the highest-ranking like An and Malpi seemed far from combat specialists.
Real combat power? Probably equivalent to six counts.
'Can't be helped. I heard most of their combat transcendents sacrificed themselves shaking off the pursuit.'
Meanwhile, the Reverse Heaven Society had only seven members—but all marquises or higher.
The branch chief Nagaraja looked duke-level, and the Executioner demon was beyond even Ken's measurement.
Even if he joined, victory was impossible; the scales had tipped hopelessly long ago.
'...We're screwed. Forget helping them—I can barely save myself. Gotta bail now.'
He was currently summoned to this Earth via some method.
If he could just dispel the summoning, he should be able to return to the demon world anyti—
His sneaky glance halted abruptly.
'Huh? What's this? No way?'
Realizing the gravity, his eyebrows trembled.
At that moment, another sigh arose from the same realization—Malpi, the one who had constructed this secret space.
"Ugh! Why does everything else work but the spatial seal won't budge...?"
Her eyes squeezed shut in concentration, she tried accessing it again.
But no matter how she wielded her administrator privileges, the locked space refused like a jammed door.
Even using auxiliary magic tools to minimize the caster's burden, this was no small issue for her, who prided herself on spatial mastery.
"Kehuhu, too late for running now. This space is fully sealed. I put in the effort to ensure we could hunt the Masquerade scum properly."
Having foiled their escapes multiple times before, he'd invested heavily this time, he boasted.
Noticing her distress, Nagaraja smirked and continued, glaring at Ken with irritated eyes—as if annoyed that all his effort snagged only this minnow.
-Hey! Boss! I'm really gonna die here! Do something quick! Or just send me back!
But Ken had no time to gripe about unfair treatment.
He was frantically communicating with the culprit who'd shoved him into this mess, desperate to escape.
Fortunately, the spatial seal didn't affect their bond via Chains of Oath.
-Hmm, looks like they're telling the truth. Summon dispel is completely blocked. How'd they do it? Phenomenon fixation? Inversion of causality?
-Quit admiring and help! I'll die for real! Think they'll let me go quietly?
-Of course not. They'll wring every drop of info from your soul, then dismantle you head to toe and recycle whatever scraps they can salvage.
-Then do something!
They controlled a space made by others' power at will.
With their own demon, most tricks wouldn't work.
Hesperon knew this too—he couldn't dawdle.
-No choice. Hang in there a bit.
-...What? What're you planning? That sounds ominous... Gah!
Ken's body began to writhe. An immense energy surged back through the deeply embedded Chains of Oath in his mind.
'Gah! Th-this is...!'
The curse that once tried to devour him whole—a branch of the energy split from this very body.
It now flooded back with monstrous force.
As if eager to fill the voids in Ken's being.
Aided by Hesperon's various skills, Ken's qi and body achieved temporary unity, his presence skyrocketing.
"...Hoo? Interesting trick."
With the energy blatantly surging, everyone noticed.
Especially the hooded man at the Reverse Heaven Society's rear, who'd stood silently until now—he reacted most strongly.
"I've seen demons from other realms a few times... but this is fascinating."
"...Hey?"
"He's mine."
Ignoring Nagaraja's cautious call, the Executioner stated his claim.
Nagaraja closed his eyes briefly, took a deep breath, and spoke as softly as possible.
"You know he's a Masquerade pawn, right? His words aren't fully trustworthy, but he's clearly connected. We need him intact to squeeze out everything he knows—you get that..."
"Interfere, and die."
"...Fine, do as you like."
He gave up quickly at the curt reply.
There was nothing he could do against that living nuke in this mood.
Unless the Society Lord or Oracle intervened personally, no one could sway him.
"We'll handle these ragtags then. Please don't kill him? If he's breathing, we can work with it."
"Try your best."
The Executioner trudged forward, his voice tinged with amused doubt, toward the prey that would alleviate his post-capture boredom.
Crrrrunch—!
In the next instant, his form transformed.
Jet-black scales covered his body, his frame swelled over three meters, four sharp horns jutted upward, a pair of bat wings unfurled, and a whip-like tail with a spear-tip end lashed about.
The great demon bared serrated teeth in a wicked grin.
[I wonder how much fun you'll give me.]
Since inheriting the demon's legacy—total record: 9,986 battles, 9,977 wins, 9 losses.
Excluding the nine losses from recklessly challenging the Society Lord, undefeated in all else.
The Reverse Heaven Society's strongest warrior—the Executioner—charged savagely at the otherworldly demon just raising its head.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ A secret space filled with machines everywhere.
'I've maxed out Ken's buffs for now, but...'
Hesperon sat in the central armchair, staring at his right arm where the bandages had unraveled.
Even with Dwarf Howard leading all avatars in the effort, the sealing array needed more time to complete.
The power sealed within was too vast even for him to handle fully.
'...Still, beating that guy with it would be tough.'
It was just a stopgap.
Not a true transcendence, but a forced boost via every trick in the book—limits were inevitable.
Power incomplete, duration short.
"Should buy some time, though."
Standing, Hesperon twisted his limbs to loosen his stiff body after lying down all day.
'Alright then.'
Closing his eyes, he checked his other avatars' statuses.
"Time to send some real reinforcements."
Ones that would serve as the Masquerade's official debut—
Stalwart allies heralding their emergence into the world.