Prologue: Dust Dancing in the night

Dreamer: A new novel picked up by my friend who's new to translating and editing!

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A man wearing a skull-designed mask stared up at the night sky. The city was bathed in a silvery glow thanks to the clear night, making it almost as bright as day. Gazing out towards the sea, he could see the silhouette of a massive, black building, its outline sharp and distinct.

Normally, at this hour, the food factory in the Tenth District, visible from the waterfront, would be swallowed by the night sky, its presence only noticeable by the incessant hum of its machinery.

But tonight was different. The rule of thumb was to avoid any kidnappings on nights with a strong moon. However, tonight was an exception. In a few hours, at the witching hour, he, a rising star in the kidnapping business, was about to close his first major deal. The request from the human trafficking broker was simple: ten individuals, either "beautiful women" or "useful Dust Ability users."

The broker, while not the biggest name in the industry, had extensive connections. Failure to deliver the goods on time would quickly lead to unfavorable rumors spreading like wildfire. This deal was non-negotiable if he wanted to continue his kidnapping business.

Nine kidnap victims were currently confined in the abandoned warehouse in the Tenth District, a coastal area. Finding capable Dust Ability users was no easy feat, so all the "goods" were beautiful women. However, he was still one short of the required number.

"Damn it. Where are they?"

He muttered under his breath, a bitter expression etched on his face beneath the skull mask. His subordinates were out securing the final target, but they were long overdue.

A swirling mass of black, sand-like particles drifted past him. These were Dust particles, unpredictable and omnipresent. They danced in the wind, covering the entire city, and even the world, whispering softly as they clung to his skull mask.

He brushed them away with a rough gesture, the particles dispersing into the air. Despite wearing a Dust-Resistant Mask, commonly known as a Dress Mask, he didn't enjoy having his face covered in these harmful particles. Inhaling them without a filter could lead to severe illness.

He checked his watch repeatedly, his irritation growing with each passing moment.

The roar of an engine broke the silence. A small truck emerged from between the containers and pulled up in front of the abandoned warehouse. The driver's and passenger doors swung open simultaneously.

Two men stepped out, both wearing skull masks identical to his own. Numbers were etched on the sides of their masks, signifying their rank: two and three, following his own number one.

"You're late! Where the hell have you been?"

The two men flinched at the shout but quickly opened the back door of the truck, revealing its contents. They began to explain themselves, trying to appease their leader.

"It's not like that, Oz. We found a prime target, way better than the others, so we switched targets at the last minute."

Oz, short for O.Z. Izzy, was the name he went by.

"She's an actress! Well, an aspiring actress, but she's incredibly beautiful. You have to see her, check it out!"

One of the men spoke with the same tone as a child presenting a test to their parent.

Oz peered into the truck. A woman, bound hand and foot, was struggling against her restraints. She was wearing a white, fluffy, deformed sheep mask. Her mouth was covered with tape, muffling her screams.

"Seeing her won't do any good. Get her inside."

Oz's voice was a mix of anger and relief. He pointed to the back door.

They opened the back door and followed a narrow, L-shaped corridor into a large, open space. It was once a storage area for ship parts, but the company had gone bankrupt, leaving the warehouse abandoned.

Nine people were huddled together in restraints near the dust extractor at the back of the warehouse. Two more subordinates, armed with guns, stood guard.

Oz's new kidnapping organization consisted of a total of five men wearing skull masks.

The kidnap victims trembled at the sight of Oz's large frame. He had carefully instilled fear in them, making sure they wouldn't dare resist, even though they were securely bound.

"Oz, check her out!"

The two men returned to the warehouse, throwing the struggling woman with the sheep mask onto a mat.

Oz glanced at the cheap D-Dust meter strapped to his left wrist. The dust extractor was running smoothly, and the air inside the sealed room showed safe levels of dust. That meant it was safe to remove his mask inside.

"Let's see what we've got..."

Oz pulled off the woman's sheep mask in one swift motion.

A beautiful woman with long, golden hair and striking features emerged. As she tried to scream, Oz covered her mouth with a thick finger.

"Don't make a sound, or you'll be killed. Got it?"

He said it tersely. Tears welled up in her eyes.

To get a better look, Oz removed his own skull mask. A young man with tanned skin and surprisingly youthful features was revealed.

Oz's green eyes, clouded with desire, scrutinized the woman, assessing her value. He was confident that the other women he had prepared for the deal were all passable, but they were divisive. This woman, however, had a universal appeal.

He turned to his subordinates, who were watching anxiously, waiting for his reaction. Oz cracked a cruel smile.

"Good job, you guys. Expect a good cut."

His subordinates seemed relieved. Oz, however, was even more relieved, reassured that he would be able to pull off this crucial deal.

He replaced the woman's sheep mask and finally settled into a chair, feeling calmer.

Oz picked up a small device and examined it. Inside the translucent glass, black Dust particles swirled.

The blue device, called an injector, was an essential item for modern humans.

Dust particles were indeed harmful, corrosive substances that could not be inhaled without a mask. But that wasn't their most significant feature.

This strange, magical substance, Dust, could grant humanity infinite benefits if ingested correctly. It had the power to awaken unique abilities in individuals.

These abilities were known as Dust Abilities.

However, not everyone could benefit from Dust. Only a select few could draw power from it, and even in this vast metropolis, they made up only 30-40% of the population. If you narrowed it down to useful Dust Abilities, the number dwindled even further.

Oz was proud of his own Dust Ability. The usefulness of Dust Abilities was judged based on their applications in production, commerce, or combat. He was confident that he excelled in all three areas.

That's why he had left his previous criminal organization in the Seventeenth District. He had stolen the organization's entire vault and vanished just last month.

He couldn't stand being in a group where he had to bow down to Dust Ability users who were less valuable than him, let alone those who had no abilities at all, the so-called "Dust-less" or "Blankers."

Currently, Oz's organization was severely understaffed. He was the only Dust Ability user, but he wasn't pessimistic.

He planned to use tonight's deal as a springboard to greater heights. He would gain the broker's trust, expand his operations, and recruit more members.

His organization would grow exponentially, and he would eventually become a major player in the city's underworld. This was the plan he had been formulating in his mind.

With a vision of his future ambitions, Oz grinned beneath his skull mask, unseen by anyone. And then, it happened.

A distinct thud came from the back of the warehouse.

Oz's expression turned questioning. His subordinates, who had been allowed to touch the women, albeit briefly, exchanged worried glances.

Oz checked his watch. The broker wasn't supposed to arrive for a while. If there was a change of schedule, he would have been notified in advance.

If the sound was from an outsider, it could be the warehouse manager arriving at an inopportune time, or perhaps one of his subordinates had messed up during the kidnapping and was being pursued.

"No, Oz, we checked multiple times. No one's following us."

One of his subordinates quickly denied it, meeting Oz's gaze.

Then, it happened. The warehouse lights went out, accompanied by a low groan.

The kidnap victims panicked. Oz stood up, his senses on high alert. He attached the injector to its designated spot on the back of his mask and gave orders to his subordinates.

"Hey, someone check the breakers outside."

Before he could finish, another sound echoed, this time from above. A series of "thuds" reverberated through the warehouse, as if someone was running across the roof. Then, the skylight in the center of the ceiling shattered.

"What the--?"

Shards of glass rained down. And then, a figure landed gracefully in the center of the warehouse. The moonlight bathed him in an almost spotlight-like glow.

It was a black dog mask. He was clad in black, blending into the shadows, and he was carrying a katana so long it seemed almost impossible. Despite the high fall, he stood up without a hitch, swaying slightly.

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Next Chapter

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