Chapter 317: The Masked Visitor
The apartment Dud was holed up in wasn’t even known to the other Rejected Corps members. He’d kept it secret for years, a safe house away from prying eyes. He lived alone, always had. No partners, no friends to stay the night, no strangers brought back here.
Which meant the voice he had just heard... couldn’t have been a coincidence.
Someone had followed him.
Dud’s mind raced. The only place he had gone recently was the quack doctor’s clinic. Had one of them trailed him back here?
His eyes darted to the counter. A pair of scissors lay there, the same pair he had used minutes earlier to cut his bandages. Without hesitation, he snatched them up, his knuckles whitening around the handle.
"Let’s see who’s really foolish," he hissed.
Spinning around, Dud swung the scissors with every ounce of strength he had left.
Clang!
The blow was stopped. His arm had struck something solid, an arm, parrying the attack with ease.
Snarling, Dud swung again. And again. Each strike was deflected, his opponent’s movements unnervingly precise. It was as if the man could see where Dud’s hand was headed before he even finished the motion. The scissors never even came close.
Breathless, Dud realized brute force wasn’t going to work. Shoving backward, he pressed against the counter, then vaulted over it with surprising agility for a man so wounded. He landed hard in the living room, putting distance between them.
And finally, in the faint, flickering glow of the broken spotlight from the kitchen, he got a good look.
The figure was tall, broad-shouldered, clearly male from the build, but clothed in a sharp black suit that seemed out of place in this crumbling apartment. Black gloves covered his hands, but it was the mask that seized Dud’s attention.
A sleek black mask concealed the man’s face entirely, save for the two glowing purple rings where his eyes should have been. They radiated faintly in the gloom, casting an eerie glow, almost inhuman.
He looked less like an intruder and more like something ripped straight from a comic book villain panel, unreal, menacing, and deliberate.
"This isn’t one of the doctor’s lackeys..." Dud muttered under his breath, a bead of sweat sliding down his temple. "This is something else."
"You know what?" Dud shouted, louder now to drown his fear. "In a situation like this, most people would start asking questions. But if you’re brazen enough to break into my home, then I already know the answer!"
He hurled the scissors across the room, sending them spinning through the air with everything he had left.
Thunk!
The masked man raised a hand, and caught it.
Or rather, stopped it.
The metal pierced clean through his palm, burying itself in his flesh.
Dud froze, eyes widening.
The man didn’t even flinch.
"Believe me," the intruder said calmly, his voice deep, steady, and oddly composed. He tugged the scissors free from his own hand as though removing a splinter. "If I wanted to harm you, or kill you, I would have done so long before you ever stepped foot into this apartment."
The glowing purple eyes locked on Dud, unblinking.
He didn’t even flinch. What unsettled Dud more was that there wasn’t a drop of blood, none on the scissors, none seeping from the man’s pierced hand. The wound simply didn’t exist, as though the metal had passed through something that wasn’t flesh at all.
Dud’s throat went dry. "...If you aren’t here to get me, then why are you here? Who the hell are you?"
The figure didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached inside the breast pocket of his black suit and drew out a single object, a sleek, black envelope sealed shut with a wax-red insignia.
He placed it carefully on the counter, the way one might place down something priceless and dangerous all at once.
"I am here to make a delivery," the man said, his tone calm, unwavering. His glowing eyes didn’t blink. "Do you know what this is?"
Dud glanced at the envelope, frowning. "...A letter?"
The man sighed, the sound low and disappointed, before shaking his head. "If it were up to me, I’d take it back based on that response alone. But this, " he tapped the envelope lightly with his finger, ", is an invitation .
"It will become the most important thing in your possession. Read its contents, and if you choose to act on it, follow the instructions. Everything you need is inside.
"One piece of advice, don’t lose it, and don’t let anyone know you have it. Someone of your... caliber, " the word carried a note of disdain, ", would become a target within the hour if others found out. And I doubt you’d last long enough to regret it."
The words cut deep. Dud wasn’t used to this, being spoken down to like he was weak, like he was small. He was Dud, the fighter everyone had once wanted at their side. He had survived brutal battles, torn down rivals with his bare hands.
But the way this man spoke to him... it made him feel like nothing. And deep down, Dud couldn’t ignore the truth. He hadn’t landed a single hit on the intruder, not even with the element of surprise. Whoever this was, he was on a different level entirely.
An invitation... Dud’s mind raced. Could he mean that invitation? The infamous one? I thought that was only a rumor...
"Wait," Dud called out sharply. "If this is the same invitation I’m thinking of, I thought it was only offered to high-ranking leaders, people who control massive organizations, or individuals with ridiculous strength. So why me? Why am I getting one?"
The man chuckled, a dark, humorless sound.
"I see you do have some sense, enough to recognize you’re not worthy." His words were like daggers. "But you’re correct. The most powerful in this world, the wealthy, the influential, the warriors whose strength alone can shake nations, they are the ones who receive it.
"However..." his glowing eyes narrowed, "that isn’t the whole truth of the invitation. There are other reasons. If you join, perhaps you’ll learn what they are."
With that, the man said nothing else. He turned, walked calmly to the front door, and left without a sound, like a shadow vanishing into the night.
For a long moment, Dud stood frozen, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. His gaze drifted slowly to the counter.
The envelope was still there. Black. Sealed in red. Waiting.
Dud stepped closer, his hand hovering over it.
"...Well," he muttered bitterly. "I’ve got nowhere else to go. What choice do I even have?"
His fingers closed around the invitation.