Chapter 168: Nothing good.

As Otto was deep in thought, the door to the room was pushed open once again.

Ella walked in, carrying her usual air of languid indifference, but this time, she held in her hands a most extraordinary object—a perfect cube, suspended in midair, radiating a soft and steady golden light.

Otto’s gaze was instantly drawn to the golden cube.

Even with the White Church’s vast collection of ancient texts and his own profound knowledge, the true, original name given to this Magic Artifact by its creator had long since been buried in the endless years of the dungeon.

Or perhaps, the true names of those artifacts from the lost ages had faded away along with their power, leaving behind only the cold, lifeless items themselves.

Otto took the golden cube from Ella’s hands and examined it closely.

Though its real name had long been forgotten, the White Church revered it as a holy artifact and gave it a new name—the Wangou Sacred Coffer.

Seeing how entranced Otto was by the artifact, Ella couldn’t help but ask,

“What are you planning to do with that thing?”

Otto didn’t answer Ella’s question.

He simply raised the Wangou Sacred Coffer, and as mana slowly flowed into it, the golden cube seemed to melt, transforming into a liquid sphere.

As time passed, it stretched, extended, and solidified…

Its contours gradually became clear, its details rapidly emerged, and finally, the light drew inward, and a brand new creation slowly took shape.

At this moment, what appeared in Otto’s hands was, unmistakably, a Mask.

Its material, color, texture, even every intricate line of its magic circuits, all bore a chilling resemblance to the one Letia wore on her face.

This was no crude imitation, but a perfect copy from the very structure of the material down to the core of its function.

But as mentioned before, every Magic Artifact comes with a price from the very beginning, and the Wangou Sacred Coffer was no exception.

While it could flawlessly reproduce the form and function of a target artifact, it would inevitably also capture and amplify its inherent “cost.”

Even more cruel was the fact that any artifact copied by the Sacred Coffer would not merely require the same price as the original… but a cost raised coldly to five times, or even more!

Take, for example, that Mind Control silver coin.

If the original artifact’s price was that one would be counter-controlled if the opponent was stronger, then with the Wangou Sacred Coffer’s copy, it would only take the opponent being stronger by just one-fifth for that risk to apply.

And if the Mask on Letia’s face corroded its wearer over time, then the copied Mask’s rate of corrosion would be more than five times that of the original.

Otto looked at the Mask in his hand, his plan coming together in his mind bit by bit.

At this moment, he had devised a plan to kill two birds with one stone.

He was bound to leave, to return beneath Level Forty, but someone would have to be entrusted with Letia.

It was true that Letia using the persona of “Litt” to get close to Red was an effective tactic, but the backlash that would follow once the truth was revealed would be uncontrollable.

So… if Litt were to disappear completely, and Letia seized the chance to move in when Red was suffering, wouldn’t that be a better way?

Besides, Red’s potential might be infinite, but potential alone was just unpolished jade—he lacked motivation, lacked direction.

Still, before putting his plan into action, Otto needed to make one final check to ensure there were no loose ends.

This verification was to test his previous hypothesis.

If one died while wearing the Mask, only the copy would perish, while the original would survive.

Thinking of this, Otto took a deep breath and slowly put on the Mask.

Light enveloped him completely, and in just a few seconds, Otto had transformed into Red.

Otto looked down at his own hands, his brows knitted in confusion and puzzlement.

“It can perfectly replicate the outer appearance… but it can’t steal that unique magical origin and creative talent of his?”

He tried to manipulate magic, imitating the strange methods Red used to bring life to Mechanical Constructs, but only felt a sense of sluggishness and futility.

“So what exactly are you doing?”

Ella’s voice broke in.

Hearing Ella’s words, Otto instinctively looked up at her. He suddenly went silent for three seconds, his gaze slowly drifting downward, and almost blurted out,

“Ella… those white stockings look pretty nice on you.*”

“??? ”

Ella, hearing this, silently took a step back and picked up the Communicator Crystal, as if she were about to call the authorities.

“No, wait!”

His voice rose abruptly, tinged with rare alarm and embarrassment.

He shook his head violently, as if to cast off some invading thought, forcibly regaining control of his consciousness.

His voice returned to Otto’s usual calm.

“That wasn’t me. That wasn’t what I meant to say.”

It seemed his guess was correct: the Mask didn’t just imitate the appearance, but even copied the personality one-to-one.

After all, Letia had never received any acting training.

How could she possibly act so flawlessly?

“So what do you really want to say?”

Ella clutched the Communicator Crystal tightly, body leaning forward, ready to attack or escape at any moment.

“I wanted to say, can I touch… Bah!”

Facing Ella’s darkening expression, Otto hurriedly took a deep breath, trying to suppress the Mask’s influence with sheer force of will.

“It’s the Mask’s fault. That’s not what I really think. Objectively speaking, the material and color of your white stockings do indeed fit a certain aesthetic standard, but as for my own character, I would never allow myself to say something so asinine. Truly.”

“Are you done?”

Ella’s face was so dark it seemed like water could drip from it.

“If you’re done, you can explain yourself down at the station.”

“…Damn!”

Maybe because of the Mask’s influence, Otto actually swore for the first time in ages.

He hurriedly took off the Mask, returning to his usual self.

After composing himself, Otto let out a long breath.

“Lost my composure.”

At the same time, his gaze once again fell upon the Mask.

He noticed that even after wearing it for just a moment, something inside had subtly changed.

It seemed to have molded itself more closely to his face, fitting more snugly, and the Mask as a whole was becoming thinner.

If worn for too long, the Mask would likely merge with its wearer, gradually replacing their original personality.

Considering how difficult it was to use just now, it meant… after complete fusion, the wearer would not be reduced to a helpless ordinary person, but their strength would be greatly diminished.

Thinking this, Otto narrowed his eyes slightly and muttered,

“From this perspective, this Mask really isn’t anything good at all.”