Anbu Black Ops Mask の小説・ストーリー

" You are so cute!! You know I can't resist black." " Ahhhh.....stop it!!!" Ana winced massaging her cheeks. " I'm going for the billing section. Wait for me. " Saying Elsa walked away towards the cash counter. Ana kept staring at the different shoes displayed in the showcase. Suddenly when she stared out of the shop aimlessly, her eyes spotted the same man in complete black covered with a hood. He was standing on the opposite side of the road. His face is covered with a mask. Strange.

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.

He simply accepted her words with a short, sharp bow of his head. “I’ll be back soon,” he said. “Try to rest.” Anna managed a weak smile as he stepped out. The moment the door clicked shut and the lock turned, the mask fell away. Anthony’s face hardened into a mask of cold stone. His eyes darkened, a predatory spark lighting up the iris. This was the version of himself he had fought so hard to bury—the man he never wanted Anna to see. But his mother’s killer was back.

The deep voice startled her. Honey looked up to see a tall man in an elegant black mask that covered the upper half of his face. He wore a perfectly tailored charcoal suit with no tie, the top buttons of his crisp white shirt undone to reveal a glimpse of tanned skin. "Is it that obvious?" she asked, trying to sound more confident than she felt. He smiled, a flash of straight white teeth that contrasted with his dark mask. "You have that look of someone taking mental notes rather than simply experiencing it."

“Who the hell are you?” The man didn’t answer right away. He stepped fully into the light, and I saw just enough to make my pulse thunder harder. He wore black from head to toe tailored trousers, a fitted jacket that hugged a body honed for violence, leather gloves that gleamed faintly in the lamplight. A mask covered his face from the bridge of his nose down, sleek and matte, like something a mercenary would wear. But his eyes cold, metallic gray were visible. And they were fixed on me with unnerving precision.

"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.

He alerted his team and assured me that everything was fine there. I walked towards the door but stopped immediately when something caught my eyes. Some black fabric was hanging behind the frame. Jacob's a minimalist when it comes to his home decorations. I turned and walked to the frame hanging on the wall. I carefully removed it. "Bloody hell." I murmured as I saw Mamba's mask. I gulped. Jacob saw it. He has the mask all along and he never mentioned or asked anything about it. I removed the mask on the hook and hid it in my jacket's secret pocket.