Novel & Cerita Anbu Black Ops Mask

"Zuberi, you've hated this mask since the day I brought you back from the badlands. Why are you suddenly desperate for me to wear it?" "Because!" Zuberi stammers, shifting his weight nervously and looking at the floor. "Because if you walk into the Eclipse Den showing your unmasked face while wearing that legendary armor, every Alpha male in the five territories will fight to the death to claim you! Then Supreme Alpha Idris will have to slaughter fifty males just to reach your side!" Zuberi is only five years old, but his mind constantly calculates territorial dominance like an old pack strategist. I pull the hardened leather mask over my features, strapping it tightly behind my ears. The da

Forever. The room erupted. Gasps. Shouts. Paddles clattering to the floor. Before the auctioneer could even acknowledge the bid, another voice rang out—smooth, amused, carrying effortless authority. “One hundred million.” A tall man stepped forward from the shadowed rear of the hall. All black: tailored suit, silk shirt, gloves, mask carved from obsidian. White Arabian thobe draped over his shoulders like a royal mantle, gold embroidery catching light in wicked threads. He smiled beneath the mask—slow, predatory, teeth flashing white.

"Come on, we can--" Before I can finish, I stop when I see the smoke clearing away. There, lying on the ground right in front of us, hidden at first because of the smoke, is a man. The man appears to be wearing some sort of weird, black and brown armor, with a large belt with a dozen pouches. He also is wearing a white mask with red eyes. "A white mask," I think, "Red eyes? Guys, this is Silent!" "Silent," SpeedBlade repeats, looking at the downed man. Silent isn't unconscious but he seems to be hurt. He's holding his arm.

"Hello, brother." Men wear their signature plain black mask that only covers their eyes and women wear their embellish golden half-mask with intricate design to hide their identity. Garrulous speeches and chatterings from the horde of businessmen quickly filled the auction house. Trevor and Sumire walk among them can't help but astonish to see the simple yet elegant black handrail, art galleries hanging on the wall of red and the golden baluster artistically drawn on the spiral stair is truly admirable.

It was cold and hard, but a warm crack glowed with a faint light. I looked up. To my eyes, he was a tall man, maybe six-foot-three. He was dressed in all black, wearing some kind of mask or hood that looked very artistic. The coolest part was the glowing decoration on his chest, like a special effect from a sci-fi movie. 【WARNING: Player Ava has touched the S-rank Boss ‘The Shadow Lord’s’ ‘Soul Scar.’ This is a fatal wound from a past betrayal. Touching it means instant, murderous rage.】

Suddenly, the cubicle door flung toward me; I dodged. It felt like something was on my face. I faced the mirror and found myself wearing a black mask. The mask exuded a sophisticated expression and had a crown-like edge on top. As I held up my hand, I realised that I was wielding a whip. The handle felt dark: warm and cold. It’s like holding ice under boiling water. The whip itself was made of black material. It glittered like glass crystals, felt like silver, and patterned like scales made of thorns.

I pulled a sleek, midnight-black carbon fiber mask over the upper half of my face, concealing my identity entirely. Tonight, Malakai Thorne would realize that a new apex predator had entered his territory, and she wasn't asking for reasons anymore.

Ruby, upon hearing my voice, looked up from the policewoman's arms, her eyes swimming in tears. Her look was a tangled mess of emotions: fear, shame, but above all, a desperate hope, like she was clinging to a lifeline, and a barely perceptible flicker... A silent question, checking if I was sticking to the plan. Choking back sobs, she reached for me. "Honey... honey..." I moved quickly, brushing past Seth's scorching stare, and wrapped Ruby in my arms, shielding her from the prying lenses with my back, a fortress of protection.

I ask. The three brothers give each other a knowing, sneaky look, then stare back at me with a teasing look in their eyes. “We're not telling,” Nico replies with amusement in his voice. I roll my eyes. Typical them. I wasn't expecting them to tell me anyways. I know they won't let it out, not so easily. “What about your masks?” I ask. Nico grins and holds up a black half-mask shaped like a wolf’s snarl. “Mine.”

On her feet sat soft-soled tabi boots with segmented soles for near-silent movement, reinforced at the ball and heel for spurts of speed, and Knee-high gaiters strapped with fold-away grappling hooks for scaled walls or rapid retreats. A lightweight half-mask of lacquered steel and leather, covering nose and mouth; built-in carbon filter neutralises toxic fumes. The mask’s surface bears a subtle crimson blossom motif - her personal emblem, visible only when moonlight strikes it just right. Alec had to blink a few times. He was certain this woman with flaming carmine hair and apple green eyes was his mother, even beyond the mask. However, she ignored him and walked right up to Artemis. The wa