Revenger's High

The man wearing a skull design mask gazed up at the night sky.

It was a clear evening, and the city was bathed in pale moonlight so bright it could've been mistaken for daytime. The sharply-defined outline of a massive, black building stood out far along the coast. Normally, a food processing factory in the Tenth District at this hour would be cloaked in darkness, barely noticeable without the noise of machinery.

A strict guideline prohibited abductions during nights when the moon shone exceptionally bright.

However, tonight was different. In just a few hours, in the dead of night, this up-and-coming kidnapper was about to execute his first major deal. The request from the human trafficking ring was straightforward: capture a total of ten individuals, either attractive women or competent dusters.

The ring, though not the largest in the business, had extensive connections. If he failed to deliver the goods as agreed by the deadline, unsavory rumors could quickly spiral out of control.

In other words, if he intended to continue in the kidnapping trade, backing out of tonight's arrangement was not an option he could consider.

Behind him, in an abandoned warehouse in the Tenth District by the bay, nine victims were currently being held captive. Snagging a competent duster wasn’t something that could be done easily, and in the final count, all of the "goods" were attractive women.

Either way, they were one person short of the required number.

Tch. Where are those bastards . . . ?

With a frown hidden by his mask, he grumbled quietly to himself.

His newly formed kidnapping organization consisted of five members, all wearing skull masks. At that moment, two of his henchmen were out trying to secure the last victim. The scheduled time for completing the kidnapping and meeting at the rendezvous point had long passed. Frustration welled up inside him, making him wonder if he was also worthless for managing such incompetent underlings.

At that moment, a cluster of particles resembling black sand floated past his eyes.

They were elusive dust particles. Not only in the Grand City but across the entire world, this divine natural substance drifted whimsically on the wind, and at times it rustled as it clung to his skull mask.

With a rough motion, he brushed the particles away, and they dispersed into a mist and drifted off.

Even though he was wearing a dust mask, commonly known as a Dress Mask, having one's face covered by the hazardous dust particles was never a pleasant experience. Inhaling them without a proper filter could leave a person vomiting blood for three days and nights.

His irritation grew more severe as he repeatedly checked his watch.

A low, rumbling engine sound reached his ears. Looking down the streetlight-lined road, he saw a pickup truck maneuvering between the shipping containers. It came to a sudden stop in front of the warehouse, and both the driver’s and passenger’s doors opened at once.

The two lackeys who stepped out were wearing the same skull masks as him. The numbers carved on the side of their masks followed his own, starting from one and then two, three, and so on.

You’re so slow, you numbskulls! Where the hell were you loitering?!

The two underlings flinched, showered in the man's harsh, phlegmy cry—but promptly opened the rear door to reveal the interior, as if trying to placate him with their explanation.

N-no, Ozzie. We found a prime target—a real gem—and I switched our target at the last minute!

Abbreviating his name, OZ Izzie was commonly referred to as Ozzie by those around him.

It’s an actress! Well, technically an aspiring actress, but damn, she is stunning. See? Just take a look!

The henchman spoke as if proudly showing off a perfect test score to his parents.

When Ozzie glanced around inside the vehicle, he saw a woman with her arms and legs tied, struggling wildly. She was wearing an oversized, stylized sheep mask covered in white, fluffy fur. Underneath, her mouth was apparently taped shut, muting her screams.

Are you out of your minds? You can't show me a damn thing out here. Hurry up and get her inside.

In a complex tone of anger mingled with relief, Ozzie pointed toward the door at the rear.

He opened the back entrance and proceeded down a narrow, L-shaped corridor, which led to a vast, hollowed-out interior. Originally, this space was used to store large quantities of ship parts, but following the bankruptcy of its parent company, the warehouse had been completely abandoned.

At the far end of the warehouse, near a dust discharger, nine humans were huddled together in restraints. Standing guard were two more henchmen with guns.

The victims trembled as one upon seeing Ozzie’s imposing figure. Although their confinement was secure, the threat of his meticulously instilled terror prevented them from attempting any resistance.

Ozzie, come on! You gotta see this broad!

The two subordinates returned to the warehouse and unceremoniously dumped the struggling, sheep-masked woman onto a mat.

Ozzie glanced briefly at the cheap D Meter on his left wrist. It was a sealed room and the dust discharger was functioning properly. Airborne dust concentration was within safe limits.

In other words, the indoor environment was safe enough that even removing the mask wouldn’t pose a problem.

Alright then, let’s check out what we’ve got here . . .

Ozzie swiftly removed the sheep mask from the woman, revealing striking long blonde hair and a stunning face. She tried to scream as the tape was ripped from her mouth, but Ozzie pressed a thick finger over her lips before she could say anything.

If you make a sound, I’ll kill you. Got it?

Tears began to well up in the woman’s eyes.

Ozzie removed his own skull mask to get a better look, revealing a surprisingly youthful face with lightly tanned skin.

With eyes clouded by desire, he assessed the value of his product. Although he was confident that the other women prepared for this deal all met the minimum criteria, their appeal was somewhat subjective. In contrast, this one had a look that had a broad appeal.

Ozzie turned to the two henchmen holding their breath and watching him with concerned anticipation. A grotesque smile spread across his face.

Good job, you guys. Look forward to your share.

The two flunkies visibly relaxed. More than anyone, Ozzie himself felt reassured—he was convinced they’d make the crucial deal on time. After readjusting the sheep mask on the tenth woman, he finally settled his nerves and sat down on a chair by the wall.

He picked up a small device and examined it. The blue apparatus, known as an injector, was an essential, specialized item for modern humanity. Black dust particles smoothly swirled through the semi-transparent glass.

Dust particles, which governed all phenomena, were a toxic substance that couldn't be ingested in their raw form without causing harm. There was no disputing that—but it wasn't their most notable trait.

This mysterious substance, when consumed in the proper fashion, granted humanity boundless benefits; they could trigger unique special abilities that were different for each individual.

These came to be known as dust abilities.

That said, not everyone could harness these powers from the dust particles. Dusters were few and far between—even in the sprawling Grand City, they made up less than 30 to 40% of the population. And if you only counted those with truly useful dust abilities, that number shrank even further.

Ozzie took great pride in his own dust ability. The effectiveness of these powers was measured not only by their industrial and commercial utility, but also by their combat value—and by every measure, he was confident in his own prowess.

That was exactly why he broke away from the crime organization of the Seventeenth District he once belonged to and struck out on his own. It was just last month that he stole every last bit from the organization’s treasury and vanished without a trace.