Night had settled over the village, quiet and still except for the faint flicker of lanterns. In the small healer's quarters, Iryosuka was already asleep, sprawled across a worn cot, his steady breathing the only sign of life. The exhaustion from countless days of tending wounds had finally claimed him.
At a wooden desk nearby, Natsuro sat hunched over a pile of reports. The dim light cast long shadows across the pages detailing the village's defenses and recent waves. His eyes flicked over the words, thoughtful, weighing the information that might save lives in the coming days.
Meanwhile, Kusahi sat alone in the corner, unaware of the invisible threads now pulling him into a darker game. He had no idea that from this night forward, he was no longer just a healer — he was Rin's pawn.
The Mask of Deceit, purchased earlier that day, lay folded in Rin's bag, waiting to be wielded. Kusahi's fate was sealed, though he remained blissfully ignorant of the role he was destined to play.
Outside, the village slept peacefully, oblivious to the shifting shadows that moved beneath its surface.
Kusahi sat cross-legged on his thin mattress in the corner of the healers' quarters. The dim glow from a crystal lamp above cast a pale light on his weary face. Everyone else was occupied—Natsuro still reading, Iryosuka long asleep—and so, for the first time in a while, Kusahi allowed himself to open his status window in private.
> Name: Kusahi
Age: 27
STR: 1 (common)
END: 3 (common)
INT: 5 (common)
STA: 2 (uncommon)
MAGIC: 4 (rare)
Traits:
[]
[]
[]
Mastery:
[Beginner Healing Magic: 36.1%]
[Beginner Stealth Technique: 2.7%]
[Novice Poison Making Techniques: 1.3%]
Equipment:
[Doctor's Shirt]
[Throwing Daggers]
[Paralyzing Poison]
[37 Gold]
He sighed heavily, rubbing his temple. His stats looked pitiful. If even healing relied on more magical potential than he had, what chance did he have out there?
He clenched his fists.
If all his stats were common, he wouldn't even be here as a healer. He'd be dead already.
A soft rustle broke his spiral of thoughts. Kusahi looked up—and his breath caught.
From the shadow near the corner of the room, a figure emerged. He was cloaked, hooded, unrecognizable—but his aura was… chillingly calm. Calculated. Controlled. The kind of presence you felt rather than saw.
Then he smiled—slow and deliberate—and spoke in a voice Kusahi didn't recognize, not because it was unfamiliar, but because it was disguised.
"Hello, Kusahi," he said, tilting his head, almost playfully. "Or should I call you… the assassin?"
Kusahi stiffened.
"I-I don't know what you're talking abou—"
The man raised a finger, silencing him with a single motion. Not forcefully. But with power. With certainty. Like a king speaking to his subject.
"I am not here to accuse you," the man continued. "I am here to offer… elevation. You see, I am a kingmaker. And you, Kusahi… you are nothing right now. But with the right hand pushing your piece across the board... you could become something more."
Kusahi's heart pounded. He didn't move.
The man took a step closer, just enough for Kusahi to catch a glimpse beneath the hood—a different face, unfamiliar. But the way he moved, the words he chose… it was like a distorted echo of someone Kusahi had seen before.
"You want to be more than just the forgotten herbalist, don't you?" the man asked, his voice like velvet. "You want the power to never be looked down on again. To choose who lives and dies."
Kusahi's mouth went dry. "And what do you want… in return?"
The cloaked figure leaned down, his grin sharp. "Only that when the time comes… you use that dagger of yours in the right direction."
He placed something beside Kusahi—a small silver pin, shaped like a fang. Without another word, the man turned, stepped back into the darkness of the room—and vanished.
Kusahi sat frozen, the weight of the encounter lingering like fog in his lungs.
He looked at the pin. Then at his stats again.
And finally, he stared at the shadow where the man had stood.
He knew nothing would ever be the same again.
Just outside the healer's quarters, under the cloak of night, Rin stepped quietly away from the wall where shadows had swallowed him whole. The cool breeze brushed against his newly purchased Mask of Deceit, now deactivated and hanging loosely from his fingers.
He glanced once more at the faint window glow behind him. Kusahi wouldn't move for a while. That part was done.
That was a good piece, Rin thought to himself, slipping back into the alley shadows with feline silence. A poison maker with weak will, fragile pride, and festering resentment. The perfect pawn.
He pulled up his interface as he walked.
> Gold Remaining: 32
Inventory Update:
[Mask of Deceit (Rare)] – Allows user to conceal appearance (face, voice, hair)
[Silver Fang Token] – A symbol left behind to bind loyalty
His lips curled slowly into a smile—not the one others saw, the one he wore for Nariku, for Hairu, for the village. This smile was… real.
He doesn't even know I've already started setting the path for him. Rin's thoughts sharpened, his inner voice cool and calculative. With a little push… he'll rationalize everything on his own. The knife he threw? A moment of fear. The poison? A necessary tool. And if he gets caught? Well, he'll just claim the system made him do it.
Rin stopped beside a tree and looked out toward the village lights. Patrols were thinning. No one had seen him enter or leave the healer's section.
I don't need to force people, Rin mused, slipping the mask back into his inventory. I just need to guide them. Give them the story they want to believe. Everyone's so obsessed with surviving here… they'll justify any sin if it feels like a step forward.
He looked up toward the starless sky, mind already calculating his next move. There was still time before the next wave. Still time to plant a few more seeds.
And when the system demanded blood…
He would already have his pieces in place.
Without a sound, Rin vanished into the dark, leaving nothing behind but a faint, lingering whisper of his smile.