Unless Their Faces Become Human-Like
“Ughhh……”
Humiliating groans were spilling from my mouth. Feeling like my heart was about to burst out of my chest, I collapsed to the floor right there. That was when the chainsaw murderer—no, Jason—bent his massive body down and thrust his horrifying mask right in my face.
“……You okay?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Did someone get hurt?”
I’d slumped down with my back against window number three, where Rachel was stationed. Then, behind Jason, another Jason appeared. Next to him, yet another. And beside that one, more kept multiplying endlessly.
“Guh, guhhh……”
The scene before my eyes wasn’t some hallucination or illusion—that realization terrified me even more. A horde in those white masks, evoking a phobia I’d never had before, came pouring out. I had no choice but to abandon my pride and make my final resort.
“Walter! Walt—ergh!”
Like a kid screaming on the playground after having their toy snatched away, I bellowed Walter’s name and yanked the emergency paper bag from my pocket, clamping it over my nose and mouth as I began to breathe into it.
“Siiiip— Hooo— Siiiip— Hooo— Siiiip— Hoooo—”
“Hey, what’s going on? You hurt? Come on, get up……”
Swoosh—one of the chainsaw maniacs reached out a massive hand toward me, and the world seemed to freeze, time slowing to a crawl. Like the fleeting montage before death.
An instant that felt like eternity passed. Trapped in that suspended moment, I gently closed my eyes, feeling hot tears trickle down around them.
I kept up the hyperventilation relaxation technique amid the sluggish flow of time, the paper bag inflating and deflating repeatedly like a pigeon’s frantic wingbeats.
Shing—
“Stand down. Touch the Director, and I’ll cut you down.”
“C-Calm down!”
“We didn’t do anything!”
My hazy, half-lidded vision couldn’t quite make out Walter’s form. But his voice, laced with lethal menace, thawed the fear that had frozen my heart, bringing calm.
“Wal…… Siiiip— Hoo— Siiiip— ter…… Hooo— Just a…… Siiiip— mo-ment……”
Before being transported to this isekai world, I should’ve gotten psychiatric help sooner. The regret surged again, mixing sorrow and anger.
Koreans, in particular, avoid mental health treatment like the plague. It’s tied to our face-saving culture and societal vibes. But psychiatry isn’t shameful or wrong.
It’s actually wrong not to go.
The notion that ‘going to a psychiatrist = you’re crazy’ needs to change, period. You might go for sleeping pills due to insomnia or just to talk through stress—that’s what psychiatry is for.
Especially the myths: ‘It goes on your record,’ or ‘psych meds mess with insurance.’ Those have to go. If an insurer denies you citing psych records, you can report them to the Human Rights Commission, Insurance Consumer Federation, or Financial Rights Commission.
‘Psych treatment hurts civil service jobs or hiring’? Not exactly. Plenty of doctors get help themselves.
Sure, civil service physicals have a ‘mental illness’ checkbox. But disqualification criteria are for severe stuff like ‘delusions/hallucinations impairing duties’ or ‘chronic drug addiction.’ Drug addicts shouldn’t get jobs anyway. But skipping treatment for bad insomnia or depression because of a form? That just makes it worse. See a proper psychiatrist.
“Siiiip— Hooo— Walter, just a bit…… Siiiip— Hoooo— a little longer…… Siiiip— please wait……”
Past records can’t be accessed or leaked without your consent—not even if the president asks. So I sincerely hope more people seek help before their mental wounds fester. Invisible scars are dangerously underestimated.
That’s why I’m sitting here in my thirties, bawling like a baby.
“Understood, Director. Shall I start with their arms?”
Walter’s follow-up made me shake my head vigorously as I kept breathing. The tingling in my hands, feet, mouth, and tongue from hyperventilation; the pounding heart; the suffocating air shortage; dizziness and chest pain—they were all fading.
Damn…… Friday the 13th…… I never should’ve left the hospital.
Hyperventilation is rapid, deep breathing that drops blood CO2 levels too low—severe cases can cause fainting. If you’ve had it before, memorize prevention.
“Siiiip— Hoooo—”
About five minutes after breathing into the bag, my respiration finally normalized.
“W-We didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Yeah! We were just trying to help!”
“Shut it. Unless you want to be bisected.”
“Ugh…… Why should we?! We’re innocent!”
“Looks like you wanna end up as mincemeat.”
My breathing steadied, my damp eyes dried. And there was Walter, facing off against Jason—no, the Jasons.
Phew…… Still horrifying masks, even on second look.
Despite their gruesome masks, the Jasons hadn’t actually harmed me. But if I left this, overloyal Walter might really slice them in half. Eyes still closed, I spoke up.
“Excuse me, Mr. Jason……s? Sorry, but that mask brings back bad memories. Could you take them off?”
“N-No way! We can’t remove our masks!”
Seeing them all masked up, maybe they had some issue. Like Walter the grape mercenary or the harelipped Jelly from Baron Duden’s house. But then Walter murmured low.
“No neck, no mask.”
“Eek! W-We’ll take ’em off!”
“Don’t cut us!”
His sincere threat convinced them. They all yanked off their hole-riddled masks.
……Huh? Why are their faces……?
Against my expectations, no scars, diseases, or deformities marred their faces. But staring at the maskless Jasons, my eyes bulged.
Prominent, jutting lower jaws like lantern chins, square and angular. They looked around twenty, all sharing eerily similar face shapes that rang bells. Unlike what I knew, no protruding fangs on the lower jaw, skin a normal human tone—not green.
But the more I looked, the more their skeletal structure and overall features matched that race from the Squinoa Mountains.
“What? Half-orcs? Why are those mongrels here?”
“Why do ya think? Their own packs rejected ’em, so they ran.”
“Ugh, figures they reeked. Let’s bail! Being around monster freaks sours the mood, tsk.”
The other folks in the territory office chimed in and filed out.
Familiar déjà vu. Just like my first run-in with Walter at the adventurer guild.
“……We’re half human. Not mongrels.”
“Not monsters……”
“……”
Too late, I realized the Jasons—half-orcs—wore masks to hide their identities.
Only Walter, me, and the office staff didn’t shun the slumped half-orcs.
“Count, I’d prefer no more commotion inside the territory office.”
“Ah…… Sorry.”
Caught off guard, I stood awkwardly, sheepish. Rachel watched me with an odd look before turning to the half-orcs.
“Apologies, but Frederik Territory Office doesn’t accept refugee applications from half-orcs. Try another domain.”
Her icy tone twisted their faces horribly.
“Wh-Why? We did nothing wrong! We’re half human!”
“We saw half-elves living in Frederik Territory! We wanna live here too!”
“We’ve wandered half the West Continent already! If even a frontier like Frederik rejects us, we got nowhere to go!”
The half-orcs pressed against window three, sobbing in rage, but Rachel didn’t blink. She just pulled a paper from below and slid it up.
“See this? Ah…… You can’t read, right—”
“We know! We’re half human too! It says…… humans and subhuman mixes in Frederik Dungeon Zone must……”
“Read it aloud.”
“Territory…… residents must not…… have appearances that disgust……”
Rachel slid the paper back down, avoiding their eyes as she sorted files.
“Got it? Now leave. I’ve said my piece.”
“B-But we got nowhere—”
“Blame the parents who gave you those faces. Get out before I have you removed.”
Wow, savage burn.
Half-orcs: half human, half orc. Sorry my PTSD outed them.
No…… Out of all masks, why Jason masks……?
They can’t live masked forever just to eat. But my freakout was the tipping point for their eviction from Frederik Territory. I couldn’t just watch.
“Hey, Rachel.”
“What is it? Business is done, right?”
“Is there no way for the Jason…… half-orcs to become territory residents?”
She tilted her head, eyeing me.
“Two or more resident guarantors and a confirmed employer? Possible. But who’d hire them? Not you, surely, Count.”
Guarantors…… If Walter and I vouch, and Beauty Tower hires them officially, I could shelter these half-orc refugees.
But hiring blindly without knowing their skills? That’s just pity, not smart.
“W-We’re strong! Great at hauling rocks!”
“We chop wood good!”
“We build houses!”
“We don’t rest! Work harder than oxen! Obedient too!”
“We wanna work! Just give us a chance!”
They caught on quick, kneeling and begging—but kept distance. Walter’s sword ensured it.
“The wolf boy was one thing, and I know your tastes are unique, Count…… But skip the half-orcs.”
Rachel sighed softly.
“What’s that mean?”
“Exactly what I said. Even if Beauty Tower hires them, people’s stares won’t change.”
“Unless their faces become human-like.”