Demon Hunter and His Cabin
Chapter 333 - Chapter 333 Chapter 333 Mask

Chapter 333: Chapter 333 Mask Chapter 333: Chapter 333 Mask “Will you accompany me there?”

Roger smiled and reached out to grab Martha’s wings from behind, but the woman deftly sidestepped, agilely evading his hand.

“You really shouldn’t touch this thing.”

“If you do…” she glanced at Roger, “… there will be a price to pay.”

“Go there, and if you are strong enough,” Martha said, “I will wait for you in the lowest room.”

All around him were indescribable noises; Roger hesitated over whether to take action right there. But soon he thought of the mansion’s enigmatic new owner.

He nodded and pushed away several women who were throwing themselves at him, making his way to the wooden door behind the stage.

The wooden doors swung open, and an enclosed elevator appeared in front of him. Roger stepped in and, as the gears turned, the elevator began its slow descent.

“Ding!”

A soft ring sounded as the elevator opened to a vast space filled with groups of people crowded around gambling tables, their eyes red, shouting themselves hoarse.

In his Hunter Vision, Roger could sense strange things being extracted from people’s bodies.

And merging into the rooms all around.

“Souls?”

“Vital energy?”

Roger shook his head; he didn’t investigate, instead continuing downward.

The next level was a massive Colosseum, blood splattered everywhere, with people in cages fighting in a frenzied way.

Onward, downward.

The space on each level grew smaller and the number of people in the rooms lessened. Though their purposes varied, each room represented a different human desire.

Pure, complete.

Finally, after what felt like an endless descent, the elevator opened to pitch blackness.

A beam of light shot down from above, and Martha’s figure mysteriously appeared in front of Roger.

“Is nothing in these rooms capable of satisfying your desires?”

Martha had changed into a black evening gown, large bat wings fanning from her back, encasing her form.

“What are you hoping to find here?”

Roger said nothing, looking around. “This isn’t underground, is it?”

Though the elevator gave the illusion of descending, Roger, no ordinary man, knew he hadn’t moved at all.

Each opening and closing of the doors led to a different area.

He hadn’t taken a single step from the beginning to the end.

Martha was taken aback, but then her eyes filled with a hint of savagery, and her beautiful face twisted with ferocity, “Are you with the Round Table Knight Order?”

“You meddle too much.”

“Everyone here enjoys everything, without conflict, harm, or death.”

“The Round Table Knights have no right to interfere with our affairs here.”

“I’m not with the Round Table Knight Order.”

Roger shook his head, “My reason for coming here is just…”

He sidestepped left, suddenly reaching out to grasp at something in the void.

“Argh!”

Martha, who had been hovering in the darkness, suddenly disappeared, and a figure gradually emerged within Roger’s grip.

“You… you!”

Pulling Martha in front of him, Roger removed his mask, a fierce glow bathing his eyes. Raging spiritual power flooded into the woman’s eyes like a deluge.

Martha’s eyes widened, her gaze grew blurry. A long while later, as sweat began to form on Roger’s forehead, the struggle in her eyes disappeared.

She stepped forward and gently tapped a spot inside the elevator.

A faint smile appeared on her face, “Ordinary desires can’t fill your heart, can they, Mr. Geralt? What is it that you seek?”

“Is it what humans have been after since birth…”

“The pursuit of immortality?”

The elevator doors closed, and Roger watched Martha’s figure disappear into the darkness.

Boom, boom, boom.

This time, when the door opened again, Roger found himself back in the same grand hall he started in.

However, what was different from when he first entered was that the room was decorated in an antique style, with wooden floors and stairs, and a fireplace at the end of the room that burned with flames.

The crackling sound of burning logs filled the air, and the walls were adorned with portraits of the mansion’s previous owners. Roger glanced around casually until his gaze finally rested on the last face.

His pupils contracted slightly.

“Is this the Duchess who married into the Green Family?”

Outside the window, darkness reigned, and Roger was unsure what he would face if he turned around and pushed the door open at this moment.

He wasn’t even certain whether this place, or the brightly gilded hall he was just in, was the real world.

Faint sounds came from ahead, and after readjusting his mask, he casually took a black robe hanging nearby and walked towards the room at the end.

The flickering lights cast a dim glow inside the room, and Roger’s entrance disturbed no one. He quietly blended into the crowd, his gaze turning to the platform in the middle.

A tall, handsome man stood there, his dark golden hair long, dressed in a fitted evening suit with edges of a white shirt peaking out slightly, and a large ruby ring adorning his slender fingers.

Standing beside him was a figure all too familiar to Roger.

Martha.

“Wasn’t she just…”

A hint of confusion rose in Roger’s mind.

“A special passage?”

“No, that’s not right, it’s too quick. Plus, she would definitely do something once she woke up.”

“Could it be twins?”

Dismissing the ridiculous thought, Roger’s heart chilled as he quickly arrived at a possibility.

If his guess was right, then the new master of the mansion was too terrifying.

“Bang!”

It was only when the door shut tight that Roger realized, including his current position, that everyone in the room made up a complete pattern.

“Clap clap!”

The man on the platform clapped his hands, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Dilio Brando.”

“Congratulations, you have all passed the tests and resisted humanity’s most primal desires.”

“By standing here, the only thing that can satisfy you now is the longing for eternal life.”

“A youthful body, ageless beauty, and immense strength!”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than Dilio suddenly threw a punch.

“Bang!”

Martha, standing beside him, was struck as if by a cannonball, her nose crushed, and her entire face caved in from the blow.

Her body flew backward, hitting a distant wall with a loud crash before rebounding onto the floor.

A large pool of blood quickly spread across the ground, and the wall she hit had a deep indentation, showcasing the power behind the punch.

Crack crack crack.

Just then, Martha, whom everyone thought was dead, suddenly struggled to her feet. She picked up something from the pool of blood and began piecing it back onto her face.

Her nose was stuck onto her forehead, her eyeballs bulged from her shattered mouth, and then, suddenly, Martha opened her mouth, her sharp fangs protruding, and she bit into a cloaked figure nearby.

Without struggle, the cloaked figure’s body visibly withered as all the Essence Blood was drained from him.

Meanwhile, Martha’s injuries healed at a tremendous speed.

“Darling, you hit too hard,” Martha said with a playful laugh, now restored to normal.

Dilio’s gaze swept over.

“In my life, I’ve had countless masks, all carefully crafted works of art, but only this one is exceptional.”

As he spoke, he opened a wooden box in his hand and pulled out a bone mask covered in cracks.

“This is the marvel of the Creator!”

Seeing the mask, Roger’s face turned pale.