Kuon X Sniper Mask Novels & Stories

"There’s no digital footprint. The sniper man... he's a ghost. I found nothing." "FUCK IT!" Khaid roared, his fist slamming into a reinforced steel table with a sound like a gunshot. He was livid, his face contorted into a mask of destructive, terrifying rage. His eyes, usually a calculated amber, had turned into dark pools of molten fury. The veins in his neck were thick cords, and his chest heaved beneath his designer shirt, looking like a caged beast trying to break through his ribs.

The moonlight dressed the land in a gleaming white layer. Within the silent gloom of Nova in Veil's armoury, Roy checked the straps of his black coat, tucked his gloves into place and lifted the collapsable mask from its stand. Black steel edges melding into a sleek, curved surface with that single ornate stone hanging from its left side. He didn’t put it on yet. Only held it. Looking at it. It meant something to him. The teardrop of the crimson jewel. Kieran finished buckling the straps of his combat harness, sliding his sword into place along his spine.

“Is that a man in a ski mask in our living room?” Zli kicks off his shoes with a weary sigh. “Yeah... Phoebe, this is Ronan Hwan. He’s a captain in the Crimson Dragons, and he took a bullet for me tonight.” Phoebe’s eyes widen until they look like saucers. “A gangster? Zli, I thought you were doing forensic audits for the government! I assumed you were just a high-stakes nerd! You told me the 'Mike' alias was for a boring white-collar sting!”

He sat perfectly still, but every line of his body screamed power. ​He wore a polished silver mask that covered the left half of his face, where the worst injuries were rumored to be. The mask was cracked in one place, giving it a brutal, shattered look. His visible features were sharp: a strong jawline, and one eye deep, icy black that was currently fixed on the patterns in the carpet. He looked like a fallen king, ruined but still terrifying. ​"Anya," my father mumbled, shoving me forward. "Meet Alpha Ronan."

"I've got a few more things I think you'll love. Come, take a look!" As Keagan approached the lively kiosk, he was determined to strike up a friendship with the shopkeeper. He longed for someone with a familiar face amidst the masked squadmates he had encountered since his arrival. It often felt like conversing with mannequins, devoid of genuine connection. Settling into a seat inside the shop, Keagan engaged in a spirited conversation with the shopkeeper, who couldn't resist teasing him about his recent triumph.

The sun showed signs of setting, and Adepe retracted his gaze from the sky. He stood up from his chair and adjusted his suit as well as put on his gray mask, then he glanced at Loreen. "Let's go." He yanked his hands into his pocket and began to walk out of the office with Loreen and Alex following behind him. ______ From a tall building near the company, a man clad in a black hoodie and black sweatpants, with a mask covering half of his face, stood beside an MTS 116m suppressed sniper rifle, which is considered one of the deadliest weapons.

"Just… go get me my favorite breakfast. I'll be downstairs in a bit." She smiled wearily at me again. "Okay. Take your time." After she'd left, I limped into the kitchen mirror. Same brown eyes. Same long black hair. Same bloody curves. "Still the same old Selene," I said to myself, exhaling. "Oh goddess do something." I opened my closet and started stuffing my backpack with nothing but tomboy attire. Hoodies. Loose shirts. Loose jeans. If I was going to pull this off, I had to look like a boy. I could just get the rest from Liam anyways.

"Whoever is inside knows how to shield it." They reached the top of the debris pile. The cargo bay doors were jammed open, revealing a cavernous, dark maw. Standing in the center of the opening, backlit by the flickering blue emergency lights inside, was the Sniper. He—or she—was wearing a patchwork suit of hazmat gear and leather armor. A gas mask with a single, glowing blue eye-lens covered their face. The sniper rifle was lowered, but not safetied. It was a kinetic weapon—an old-school slug thrower, not an Admin energy rifle. Illegal. Untraceable.

Hatred, anger, disgust… doesn’t compare to the unexplainable look he wore on his face every time our eyes locked. 2 years later… 2013. PAST. SEOUL. HELL PENTHOUSE. 2 years later, A-Jun began to wear an actual mask, which was the mask that carried the face of something I feared the most. Koh, the face stealer. That centipede-like spirit from Avatar: The Last Airbender can rip a face right off anyone who shows emotion while he’s looking, leaving victims in a creepy limbo state.

They glanced at the crowd around them and had no choice but to admit, "Yes, we acknowledge that. But our faces were ruined because of your face mask!" Sebastian smiled and signaled to one of his employees to bring out the purchase order for the medicinal ingredients. He also fetched a box of the official Arctic Snow Mask. He gestured to everyone present, "Take a good look. The ingredients used to heal this young lady's damaged face are exactly the same as those in Arctic Snow Mask."