Did you use our date as an excuse to buy tools for your crime?

As they stepped into the Black Cage District, the atmosphere immediately grew oppressive. On either side of the street, metal plate walls were riddled with bullet holes, while the ground was littered with empty shells and stained with blood, a pungent stench hanging in the air.

Graffiti of every hue covered the surrounding pavement and walls, and at the entrance loomed a giant slogan: “Why So Serious?”

It was hard to imagine that two high schoolers, who usually studied in the greenhouse-like comfort of the middle district, would venture here together for a date.

“Your online alias is really something,” Chen Shang leaned back in his seat with a relaxed smile. “It’s got such a girlish ring to it.”

Chiyo Asanagi shot him a glare and, without warning, drew a katana from beside the driver’s seat, placing it at Chen Shang’s neck.

“All right, all right—just joking…” Chen Shang immediately raised both hands in surrender, then pointed to the side. “Look!”

“Hm?” Chiyo followed his gesture and saw a young man crouched against the street wall.

He wore a rat-head mask, a simple jacket, and jeans; slung across his back was an automatic rifle. Most notably, he had on a pink T-shirt emblazoned with an image of a magical girl.

The man lifted his phone, its screen showing his own live-streamed face.

“Hello everyone, I’m ‘Sister Ameng’s Dog,’ a new content creator from the B-Hand Life Zone!”

Despite the mask, his voice was feverish, as if supercharged by military stimulants, his arms waving wildly as he shouted, “Ameng, I really like you! For you… today, I’m going to kill ten people!”

Immediately, comments like “666” and “Hurry up!” scrolled across the screen.

“Brothers, if I get more than three hundred bucks in gifts today, I’ll start a smurf account and become Ameng’s Captain!”

He clipped the camera to his chest, unslung his automatic rifle, and loudly promoted, “Remember to follow ‘Did Ameng Chant Today’ on B-Hand! She’s adorable…”

Halfway through his words, his head exploded like a watermelon.

From a distant, abandoned building, a man in camouflage had fired a single shot, ending his life.

In the next instant, the sniper’s own phone was swarmed by comments:

“666! The God of Snipers lives up to his name!”

“I’ve been sick of those Ameng fans forever! Kill, kill, kill!”

“Nice shot! Well deserved!”

Gifts worth tens of thousands poured into his livestream.

But a moment later, a bone spike dropped from above, piercing the sniper’s chest.

“Heehee~ Killed a minor celebrity, didn’t I?” A girl clad in a Lolita dress, twirling a parasol, emerged from the shadows.

She raised a phone plastered with pink stickers and drew a freshly grown bone spike from her calf.

“I’m ‘Bone Spike Girl FW’ on DouTube—don’t forget to follow my channel~”

With her bloodied bone spike, she flashed a V sign at the camera.

“…”

Watching these cannibalistic madmen, Chiyo Asanagi finally understood the words of the gatekeeper.

“These people are all insane,” Chiyo muttered, shaking her head as she became more alert.

“This is the true face of Night Axis City,” Chen Shang replied with a wry smile, his gaze lingering on a nearby dead streetlamp. “A young lady like you could never imagine people living this way.”

“So, do you want to fight for them?” Chiyo’s tone was calm, her surprise well concealed. “If you’re joining the Resistance, then in some sense we’re enemies.”

“The Resistance? Who’d want to join such an unreliable group?” Chen Shang scoffed.

In the world’s backdrop, Night Axis City was indeed home to many who despised the capitalists and dreamed of overthrowing the classes. They’d formed the “Resistance,” gathering strength in the desert outside the city, waiting for their chance.

But over time, the Resistance had become corrupt, devolving into desert bandits who robbed under the banner of rebellion.

“I see. What a pity~” Chiyo sighed, voicing her inner thoughts.

If Chen Shang were to defect to the Resistance, she wouldn’t mind personally capturing him with her katana and imprisoning him at her side, staging a passionate tale of “the domineering lady general and the rebel fighter”—a love born of rivalry.

That was, in fact, the plot of the only romance novel she’d ever secretly read.

Just as she was lost in this daydream of some half a million words, Chen Shang tapped the car window. “We’re here.”

They looked ahead into a narrow, pitch-black alley.

“This is the place?” Chiyo frowned.

She hadn’t expected a proper date spot, but this was downright shabby.

“I’ll go in first~” After checking their surroundings, Chen Shang opened the car door and headed into the alley alone.

“Hey! Wait for me!” Chiyo quickly grabbed her katana and followed.

At the alley’s end, they found a metal door covered in pasted advertisements, with a large warning: “Do Not Open.”

“This place is bizarre…” Chiyo commented.

But Chen Shang walked straight up and turned the handle.

“Hey, you—!” She tried to stop him, but he’d already opened the door. Inside was darkness, nothing visible.

“What is this place?” Chiyo unsheathed her katana, wary.

“The black market, of course. Haven’t you heard of it?” Chen Shang replied.

“The black market…” Chiyo frowned, pondering. “I’ve heard about it from my father.”

Then she added, “But few people know its location in Night Axis City. Even my father didn’t know there was one here!”

“Then don’t judge me by your father’s standards.” Chen Shang grabbed her hand and pulled her inside.

The room was bare, save for a few chairs in the corners, where thick cobwebs revealed it hadn’t been cleaned in ages.

“This is your so-called black market?” Chiyo felt she’d been tricked.

Chen Shang simply sat in a corner chair, patting the seat beside him. “Sit down.”

As soon as he spoke, his body slumped as if he’d fallen asleep.

Chiyo cautiously sat next to him—and was instantly overcome by drowsiness, slipping into sleep.

“…Huh…”

When she opened her eyes again, she found herself in a humble wooden shop.

She was sitting in a corner chair, as if she’d traveled to a parallel world through a dream.

“Welcome to the black market, Lady Chiyo!”

Chen Shang suddenly jumped in front of her, gesturing broadly. “This is the Dream Shop of the Black Cage District!”

Chiyo stood, her eyes sweeping the empty shelves.

Chen Shang approached the counter and greeted the shopkeeper, who wore a white robe and a mask.

“What’s for sale today?”

This black market’s magic lay in its ever-changing, randomly selected goods.

Most importantly, every item contained “mystic power”—rare treasures impossible to find elsewhere.

“You’re in luck,” the shopkeeper said. “Today, we’re selling Tarot Masks.”

With a wave of his hand, five masks of varying shapes floated before the counter.

“This one is ‘The Emperor,’” he said, indicating a fox mask with a distinctly Japanese style.

“This is ‘The Hermit,’” he pointed to a pair of black-rimmed glasses.

“The white masquerade mask is ‘The Fool,’ the black iron mask is ‘The Chariot,’ and the heavily painted clown mask is ‘Death.’”

He finished the introductions and turned to Chen Shang: “Ninety thousand each. Which do you want?”

Chiyo interjected, “What’s the use of Tarot Masks?”

“Simply put, these masks enable the wearer to disguise themselves completely, temporarily altering their aura and personality,” the shopkeeper explained unhurriedly. “The mask will adhere tightly to the face and can only be removed at the wearer’s will. Otherwise, it won’t come off.”

“Change aura and personality?” Chiyo raised a brow, struggling to hide her surprise. “Is it some kind of brainwashing device?”

“No, the mask doesn’t affect your mind in any way,” said the shopkeeper. “After you remove it, everything returns to normal.”

Unable to restrain her curiosity, Chiyo picked up the fox mask. “I’ll buy this one.”

“I’ll take these,” Chen Shang said, choosing the black-rimmed glasses.

As the planner, Chen Shang could guarantee these Tarot Masks were as miraculous as the shopkeeper claimed—among the highest-level disguises in the entire game.

While handling the Jinyuchuang incident, he’d relied on cheap goggles and dust masks to hide his identity, but such disguises were full of flaws—exposure was only a matter of time.

He could have bought a disguise suit or holo-cloak at another black market, but none offered the endurance or stability of a Tarot Mask.

Just as he was about to offer a Night Emblem, Chiyo pulled out a bank card and said, “I’ll pay for both.”

Seeing the lady volunteer, Chen Shang put away his emblem and stepped back.

After payment, Chiyo was still unsatisfied. “I’ll buy everything else you have—just pack it all up!”

But the shopkeeper laughed. “Sorry, each customer can buy only one item.”

With a flourish, the shopkeeper waved his hand. Both of them felt dizzy and collapsed.

When Chiyo woke again, she was back on the rickety chair in the derelict room.

Beside her, Chen Shang was just awakening, and in her hand was the red-and-white fox mask.

“That… wasn’t a dream?” Chiyo murmured in astonishment.

“Of course not,” Chen Shang replied as he toyed with the black-rimmed glasses.

“I want to go back to that shop!” Chiyo cried, sitting down again. “I want to see what else they have.”

“Don’t waste your time,” Chen Shang advised. “You can only visit that shop once every five years.”

“Seriously?” Chiyo gasped.

“The stuff they sell you can’t find anywhere in Night Axis City. That’s why there’s a limit,” Chen Shang replied, donning the glasses, which immediately made him look far more refined. “Rarity adds value, you know.”

“Fine, I’ll send my subordinates next time,” Chiyo said, pocketing the fox mask, ready to leave.

Just then, she noticed that with the glasses on, Chen Shang’s aura had grown calm, his face blurred as if obscured by static.

“What’s with your face?” Chiyo asked.

Chen Shang looked at her with a serene, wise gaze that seemed to have weathered endless storms—so deep it was unsettling.

“No need to make a fuss, it’s nothing,” he replied, voice now deep and magnetic, as he strode from the room.

“Is this thing… really so miraculous?” Chiyo muttered, staring at the fox mask in her hand—yet she still didn’t dare to put it on.