The air in the clearing was thick with the scent of pine and the metallic tang of fresh blood. I stood perfectly still, my breathing shallow and controlled. With the [Slime Mask] active and [Invisibility] shrouding its shimmering, porcelain surface, I looked exactly like what the world expected: a weak, pathetic human boy who had lost his way. I could see my own reflection in the dew-covered leaves nearby—a scrawny fifteen-year-old with messy hair and wide eyes. But beneath that illusion, my skin was buzzing with the SSS-Rank power of a Master.
The three Ground Wolves didn't hesitate. To them, I wasn't a threat; I was a meal. They moved with a predatory grace that made the Goblins look like bumbling amateurs. They didn't just bark; they communicated with low, guttural vibrations that I could feel in my chest.
One wolf, the largest of the three, launched itself at me. Its jaws were wide enough to crush a human skull in a single bite. I didn't flinch. I didn't even raise my spear.
Activate: Slime Body. As its teeth sank into my forearm, the beast expected the crunch of bone and the spray of warm blood. Instead, it met a surface as resilient and dense as industrial rubber. The wolf's eyes widened, a flicker of sentient confusion crossing its pupils. It couldn't pierce me. Its teeth slid fruitlessly against my skin, which had taken on the structural integrity of the King Slime.
Seizing the moment, I dropped my spear and channeled every ounce of kinetic energy into my right hand.
"Slime Punch!"
The impact was thunderous. The air around my fist cracked as the kinetic mana exploded. The wolf didn't just fall; it was launched. It tumbled through the air, its ribs shattering with a sound like dry kindling snapping, until it slammed into a mossy boulder and went still.
The other two wolves immediately skidded to a halt, their paws digging deep furrows into the soft earth. They realized this wasn't an easy hunt. They began to circle me, their hackles raised, flinging their paws in a coordinated strike. With every swipe, they created sharp, vacuum-like slashes in the air—the signature Rank-D skill of the Ground Wolf.
Swap: Slime Movement. I felt my spine turn to liquid. I moved with an undulating, erratic grace, twisting my torso and limbs in ways a human skeleton shouldn't be able to. The air slashes whistled past my ears, cutting deep gashes into the trees behind me, but they never touched a hair on my head. Before they could reset for a second volley, I thought, Swap: Dash.
I surged forward, retrieving my spear in a blur of motion. The wolves were agile; they leaped backward, avoiding the lethal tip of my weapon with mere inches to spare. They were fast, coordinated, and far more dangerous than anything I'd faced so far.
"Fine. Let's see you dodge this," I muttered, the fire of the artisan burning in my eyes. Swap: Fire Mask.
I didn't just throw a flicker of flame this time. With my Rank E magic, I manifested three distinct, concentrated arrows of fire. I didn't aim for the wolves; I aimed for the dry brush surrounding them. The arrows exploded, creating a wall of heat. The wolves yelped, their sensitive noses overwhelmed by the smoke. Their formation broke as they jumped in opposite directions.
Swap: Dash. I closed the distance to the first distracted wolf in a heartbeat. The seven-foot burst of the Rank D Dash was so fast it felt like teleportation.
Swap: Slime Mask. I delivered a [Slime Punch] that finished it instantly, the impact caving in its skull. The second wolf tried to lunge from the side, but my spear was already there, driven by the pure momentum of my previous dash. The steel tip, reinforced by my [Reconstruction] skill, pierced its heart. It let out a final, haunting whimper and fell still.
The third wolf, the one I had punched earlier, had regained its footing. Seeing its pack slaughtered by a "weak" boy, it did something I hadn't seen a monster do yet: it turned tail and bolted. It scrambled for the dense treeline, its stone-like fur scraping against the bark.
"Oh no, you don't," I said. Swap: Dash. I ran with a speed no human should possess, tracking it through the dense undergrowth. Every time it tried to zig-zag, I used a dash to cut off its angle. I swung my spear in a wide, sweeping arc, the weight of the ironwood following through. The point ended its flight for good.
I stood over the three carcasses, my chest heaving, as the system notifications began to flood my vision like a digital waterfall.
[Level Up: You have reached Level 8.]
[Experience Gained: 2x Mask Plates.]
[Skill Evolution: Dash evolved from Rank E to Rank D. (Range: 7 feet)]
[Skill Evolution: Search and Storage evolved from Rank F to Rank E. (Radius: 7 meters)]
[New Element Unlocked: Water Magic (Rank F).]
But it was the shimmering purple window that caught my eye—a notification that felt different, more ancient.
[New Class Ability Unlocked: Taming (Limit: 5).]
[Description: As a Mask Maker, you can now craft 'Control Shells.' When placed on a severely weakened or defeated monster, the mask binds their soul to yours. They will serve you until death or release.]
[Note: Current capacity is 5. If a tamed monster dies, the mask plate is destroyed. If released, the plate returns to your inventory.]
I sat down on a fallen log, my hands trembling slightly—not from fear, but from the sheer potential. I used my two new plates immediately. The first became the [Water Mask]. It was cool to the touch, colored in deep teals and cerulean, with a surface that felt like polished river stone. The second was the [Mask of Taming]. This one was haunting—a pale, translucent white with glowing violet runes etched into the forehead.
I tested the [Water Mask] first. I held out my hand and whispered, "Flow." A thin stream of pressurized water shot from my palm, slicing through a thick leaf like a razor. It was different from fire; it felt more precise, more adaptable.
Next, I checked my [Search] skill. The seven-meter radius felt much larger now. I sent out a pulse, expecting more wolves. Instead, I sensed five distinct, skittering life forces just beyond a cluster of ferns. They were moving in a rhythmic, clicking pattern.
I crept forward, activating [Invisibility] once more. I hoped for something majestic—perhaps a forest deer or a rare bird. I pushed aside the ferns and immediately recoiled, a shiver of pure, unadulterated disgust running down my spine.
Bugs.
They were giant, armored forest insects, each nearly three feet long with twitching mandibles and a hundred clicking legs. In my previous life as Genchi Uta, I had a rational, intense hatred for bugs. They were creepy, they were unpredictable, and they represented everything "formless" that I hated as a craftsman.
"Of all the things in this godforsaken forest," I groaned, "it had to be bugs."
I looked at the [Taming Mask] in my hand. Then I looked at the centipedes. If I wanted to create the world's finest masks, I couldn't be picky about my materials. These things had incredible armor and speed. If I could tame one, it would be a perfect scout—or a terrifying surprise for anyone who underestimated me.
I gripped my spear, the cool energy of the [Water Mask] humming in my mind. I needed to weaken one without killing it.
"Alright, you creepy crawlies," I whispered, stepping into the clearing. "Let's see if you're as tough as you look."
I launched a high-pressure water jet at the leading centipede's legs, slowing it down. As it hissed and reared up, I prepared the [Taming Mask]. The journey to the capital was still two weeks away, but my "collection" was about to get its first living member. I was no longer just a traveler; I was a Master in the making