As panic set in, a flood of memories surged into his mind those memories that weren't his. He saw flashes of a quiet bustling village, life of a humble woodcutter, and the betrayal of a man.
The memories belonged to Zhong Zhiqiang, a woodcutter who lived on the outskirts of a remote village. His life had been simple, his only joy his wife, Mei. They had been married for six years and lived a modest but content life.
But everything unraveled when Mei began a secret relationship with a traveling priest from a powerful religious sect.
The priest, a man of influence and authority, had taken advantage of Mei's loneliness and Zhong's long absences due to him working in the forest.
When Zhong discovered the affair, he confronted the priest and his wife. The priest, fearing exposure, drugged Zhong and hung him from a tree in the forest, framing it as a suicide.
Zhong's final memories were supposed to filled with despair, betrayal, and anger not only toward the priest but also toward Mei but he was different, he was confused.
And now, Shun found himself in his body, reliving the pain of that betrayal.
"That bastard priest… and his wife," Shun muttered.
"They killed him. They betrayed him." he thought in his mind.
After some coping Shun started waking through memories of Zhong to find was back to human settlement.
By the time he stumbled into the village, the reaction was instant.
Gasps. Frozen stares. Whispers that spread like wildfire.
"It's him!" someone hissed. "Zhong Zhiqiang… he's alive!"
The crowd parted as a figure stepped forward—a woman with sharp eyes and a carved bone staff. There was authority in her stance, a quiet power that made the villagers fall silent.
Shun met her gaze, his body still sluggish, his thoughts tangled in the storm of memories.
"Zhong Zhiqiang," she said, voice steady but cold. "A man claimed to have seen your body hanging from a tree in the forest… only an hour ago. Was it you?"
Shun hesitated. What the hell was he supposed to say?
"I… I don't know," he stammered. "I just woke up. That's all I remember."
A long silence stretched between them. The woman studied him, her gaze piercing, as if she could unravel him piece by piece.
"If it wasn't you, then who was it?" she murmured. "No… that doesn't matter. We should check anyway."
She ordered some villagers to search the forest. Hours later, they returned empty-handed. No body. No rope. Nothing.
That night, Shun was summoned to her hut.
The air inside was thick with incense, the walls lined with strange talismans and relics.
The glow of a lantern cast flickering shadows, making everything feel… off.
She sat before him, placing a cloth-wrapped object on the table. With slow, deliberate movements, she unwrapped it.
A mask.Yes the same mask from first chapter.
Not just any mask—a red-eyed mask that practically radiated an ominous energy. Its eerie gaze bore into him, as if alive.
"This shitty mask again…?" Shun muttered.
The woman didn't react to his words.
Instead, she spoke with quiet authority. "It is the Mask of the Lucky Idiot, one of the ten great masks. It may sound foolish, but this mask grants luck beyond the heavens."
Shun recoiled. "I don't want it. Take it back."
"You have no choice," she said firmly. "The mask chose you. It remained dormant—until you entered the village."
"What truth?" Shun asked.
A sinking feeling settled in his chest. He didn't want to be a part of this. He didn't want anything to do with masks or destinies or whatever cosmic joke the universe was playing.
But before he could argue further, his fingers brushed the mask.It jumped to his face.
And pain—searing, unbearable pain—ripped through his skull.
A flood of visions.
Lives that weren't his.
A soldier marching to war. A thief stealing under moonlight. A noble drinking poisoned wine. A beggar freezing in the streets. Again and again, life after life, each ending in tragedy.
Shun gasped, the pain dragging him under. His body collapsed, his vision darkening.
Then—
SYSTEM ACTIVATION ALERT!
And everything faded.
Days later, he woke up.
His body felt like lead, his limbs uncooperative. His head ached, his thoughts sluggish.
The memories, the mask, the system—it was all still there.
Groaning, he sat up. The room was empty, save for strange glowing screens floating in front of him.
One by one, he read through them:
>System Info: Click to Open
>User Profile: Click to Open
>Tasks: Click to Open (1 Task Available)
>Rewards: Click to Open
>Achievements: Click to Open
>Skills: Click to Open
>More...
Shun sighed, rubbing his temple. "Now what is this shit?"
Frustrated, he clicked at the Tasks option. A single mission blinked before his eyes.
Major Task: Kill the Priest.
Shun froze.
His lips parted, but no sound came out.
"No. Absolutely not."
"Do you have a voice system?" he muttered.
After a moment of silence, a robotic voice responded. "Yes, I do."
Shun exhaled. "Alright, listen. I don't want to kill anyone. Can't I just run away?"
"No, you cannot. Failure to complete a major task results in death."
His blood ran cold. "For real?"
"For real."
Shun pressed his palm to his face. Not because he had to kill someone—no, that wasn't even the worst part.
He was just too damn lazy to deal with this shit.
"System, do you actually have anything useful, or are you just a self-proclaimed scam?"
A deep, ominous chuckle echoed in his mind.
"SYBAU! Complete the task, and you will naturally become stronger."
Shun's eyes narrowed.
No response. Just silence.
Gritting his teeth, he got to his feet.
By the time he reached the village gathering place, the air was tense. The villagers were gathered at Granny Zhao's hut. Lantern light flickered against the walls, casting long shadows over their worried faces.
Granny Zhao sat in the center, her expression unreadable.
"Did you find any bodies in the forest?" she asked.
A villager shook his head. "No. Nothing. Must've been a mistake."
The crowd murmured, their tension easing.
But Granny Zhao's gaze lingered on Shun—longer than was comfortable. His gut twisted.
"Zhong is… different," she said at last. "Perhaps the rumors were true." she thought I her mind.
The villagers hesitated, then reluctantly nodded. As they dispersed, Granny Zhao called out, "Zhong, stay behind."
Shun tensed.
When it was just the two of them, she leaned on her cane, staring straight into his soul. "Do you know about your wife and the priest?"
Shun stiffened. "What do you mean, Granny Zhao?"
She let out a dry chuckle. "Don't play dumb. The rumors have been around for years."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He started acting with passionately "I knew that bitch… she played with my heart."
She looked at him in silence for a moment before she spoke again. "Are you dumb?"
Shun left her hut with a heavy heart, her words echoing in his mind.
"Am I?"