Jack looked at his status panel again. More carefully.
[CHARACTER STATUS]
[Na: Jack Night]
[Incarnation Type: Fiend]
[Persona: Jack Deathspark]
[Race: Undead Draugr]
[Archetype: Supernatural Entity]
[Attributes: Physique (71) Mysticism (35) Passion (66) Essence (99)]
[Karma: Neutral]
[System Sight Modes: Information Panel; Fear Detection; Aura Detection]
[Supernatural Traits: Nightmare Shapeshift; Banshee's Requiems; Poltergeist's Telekinesis; Bloody Mary's Mirror World; Draugr's Combat Instinct; Incarnation Shift]
There was one additional entry in the system sight mode... the Aura Detection. What was this mode?
[System Sight Mode: Aura Detection. A mode of vision that grants the host the ability to perceive the subtle energies that flow around living beings and objects. The host's aura is always the standard orange color. Others' aura can range from pale yellow to dark red. The weaker the aura, the lighter its color. The stronger the aura, the darker its color.]
Jack let out a deep sigh in his draugr's body. It was... creepy. But, he didn't care. This mode was not bad. It was convenient. But, so far, he had already been able to sense others' aura without the mode.
'Let see the two new entries in Supernatural Traits.' He thought.
[Supernatural Trait: Draugr's Combat Instinct. An innate understanding of battle inherited from beyond the grave. The host's movents beco unnaturally swift and precise in the heat of combat. Opponent's attacks are telegraphed monts before they occur, highlighted by a faint, pulsating red aura around the limb or weapon initiating the strike. It will automatically be activated during combat.]
An ugly grin appeared on Jack's draugr face. This was actually practical and useful for him.
[Supernatural Trait: Incarnation Shift. A transformative ability that allows the host to morph into any supernatural entity recorded within their inner archives. The transition is a gradual process, taking approximately ten minutes as the host's physical form realigns and reconfigures itself. Due to the extended period and the vulnerability during the transformation, this trait is ill-suited for combat situations and should be done in safe area.]
The ugly grin on Jack's draugr face widened. He could still beco a Formless Ghost. Great! He would never want to be seen coming out completely naked like this. He needed to steal so clothes for the draugr form.
The plain Mirror Room seed to be much more useful now. It could always be his hidden place to change form safely.
Jack imdiately activated the [Incarnation Shift].
A wave of icy energy washed over him once more. He felt his solid form slowly… evaporate. Becoming more ethereal. The fiendish form of the draugr began to fade into invisibility.
The whole process took him several minutes to complete. But, finally, the ghostly tingle reappeared. He was back as... Faceless Jack.
It was ti now to continue the journey. And perhaps, he could steal so decent outfits along the way.
...
Jack drifted through the air. He was a wisp of nothingness searching for sothing, anything, that could pass for clothes.
The Draugr form was powerful, sure. But the nudity was a real drawback in polite, and even impolite, society. He didn't want his draugr form to feel like a Victorian-era flasher.
Suddenly, his ethereal senses picked up a disturbance. It was a pocket of concentrated fear and nightmarish misery. He veered towards it. He was drawn by the scent of nightmare like a shark to blood in the water.
It led him to a secluded, ramshackle house. This house was tucked away in a copse of sickly-looking trees.
Peeking inside, he saw it: a slave trading outpost.
The sight hit him like a physical blow. A gaggle of skeletal, dark-skinned people huddled in a corner. Their eyes were hollow with despair.
Four figures in black robes sat in much better comfort. Their faces were obscured by shadow. Slavers! Jack's spectral blood boiled.
One hulking figure ca in from the backyard door. And Jack got a good look. He was huge. A hulking brute of a man. The black hooded robe functioned just like a cape for the man.
But... it was the right side of his body that made Jack's intangible jaw drop.
It was tal, gears, and tubing, crudely grafted onto flesh. Black smoke coughed from the seams. The whole contraption looked like it should have exploded years ago. Cursed tech. Wired to a monstrous body and ruthless soul.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
'Faceless Jack, the formless ghost...' He muttered to himself. '... ets steampunk nightmare.'
The cyborg walked in with dark face. It was as if he had just heard bad news. Jack watched. Invisible and enraged. As the brute kicked one of the huddled figures. The man cried out. A pathetic whimper that scraped against Jack's spectral ears.
Another slaver, a weasel-faced man with greasy hair, stood out from his seat and joined in. He spat on a kneeling woman. He then grabbed a branding iron. Glowing red hot. And advanced on another victim.
The sll of burning flesh hadn't yet filled the air. But Jack could taste it. The tallic tang of suffering. Enough!
This wasn't just about the evil side of unethical comrce. It was about cruelty. About the dehumanization of innocents. The sight of their tornt was the fuel Jack needed to unleash hell.
He didn't hesitate. These bastards were going to pay.
Focusing his intent, he unleashed his power. A chorus of screams ripped through the air, only for the ears of the slavers. It was an orchestra of tornted souls. His [Banshee's Requiems] started the show.
Almost at the sa ti, the darkest fears of the slavers took shape before their eyes. One saw a writhing mass of spiders crawling under his skin. Another was confronted by the decaying face of his dead mother. Accusing him of neglect.
[Nightmare Shapeshift] took on the stage.
He followed it up by using [Poltergeist's Telekinesis]. Chairs flew. Tables overturned. And rusty farming sickles levitated to beco deadly projectiles. This ti, the phenona were visible even for the slaves.
Jack was too angry to slowly tortured the slavers with nightmares. He cranked up the power of his nightmare to the strongest magnitude. Specifically targeting the five slavers.
The four normal slavers didn't stand a chance. They scread. They clawed at the air. And they quickly died of heart attacks, fear, and blunt force trauma. It was quick and brutal. But it was exactly what they deserved.
The cyborg slaver, however, was a different story.
He flinched at the initial onslaught of sound and vision. But then a gout of black smoke erupted from his chanical side.
It seed to cleanse his mind. It severed the connection to Jack's nightmare. The cyborg slaver shook his head. His organic eye blazing with fury. He roared, an inhuman chanical sound reverberating alongside his human voice.
'Damn it!' Jack thought.
The smoke was actually acting like so kind of cursed firewall. This would be a troubleso opponent.
But then, Jack rembered the demonic entity from Asquall Village. It was also kind of immune to his nightmarish powers. But he could handle it that ti. He could use the sa trick.
Mirror World Ti!
Using [Nightmare Shapeshift], Jack intentionally solidified his ghostly form. He beca visible to the cyborg... and the slaves. A low-floating faceless kid with misty body.
"Hey, Tin Man!" Jack taunted with his [Banshee's Requiems]. His voice was an annoying child's voice. Blanketed with chilling whisper. "You gonna cry? Or you gonna do sothing about it?"
The cyborg bellowed again. It was a sound that was half-human, half grinding tal. He lumbered forward. His chanical limbs were whirring and clanking.
Jack didn't bother to turn back. But he fled. Floating backward. Phasing through the wall. Leading the behemoth away from the slave house.
The cyborg slaver crushed the wall into broken pieces. He kept charging at the infuriating ghost.
"Only your body that big? Brain smaller than pea?" Jack mocked.
He threw up quick nightmare illusions as he floated backward. Flashes of the cyborg's own rotting body. The tornted faces of his closed ones. His machine body parts forcibly taken by his hateful rival.
Each one bought him a few seconds of halt. But the gouts of black smoke again awakened him each ti.
They reached the river. Its water was murky and polluted. The river itself was a shallow one. Probably would just reach the cyborg's knee. Jack floated above the river.
"Co on, Rust Bucket!" He taunted with his eerie yet infuriating voice. "Afraid of a little water? Poor baby!"
The cyborg didn't answer. He just charged. Splashing into the river without a second thought.
Jack took a deep, ethereal breath. And plunged into the cyborg's body. He phased inside the unholy fusion of tal and flesh. He imdiately felt an extre resistance that attempt to push him out.
Jack gritted his non-existent teeth. He forced himself to stay long enough. To activate his [Bloody Mary's Mirror World] travel function.
The world twisted. And...
They were both in the Mirror World.
It was the realm of identical reflections. And monstrous echoes. It looked like they were in the sa location. But the directions were mirrored. And there was suffocating aura around them.
Before Jack could phased out of the cyborg body... Before he could even properly assess his situation, a figure materialized right in front of them. It was a figure he recognized imdiately.
A sickening lurch manifested in his non-existent stomach. It was... the demonic entity from Asquall Village. And it looked pissed.
It lunged at Jack. Its eyes were burning with infernal fire. Claws raked across the body of the cyborg he was in. It tore through the cyborg machine body, and Jack's ethereal form, sending jolts of pain through him.
Jack stumbled backward, out of the cyborg slaver's body. His concentration was wavering.
The cyborg, injured by the demonic entity, roared in pain and rage. It swung his tal fist at the demon.
The two monstrosities clashed. The air was filled with the clang of tal on flesh. And the guttural cries of a demonic being.
A chance.
Jack knew he was outmatched against either of the opponents. He was still a weak ghost. He couldn't take on a pissed-off demon. Or a cursed cyborg slaver. Or worse... both of them at the sa ti. He had to get out. Now.
Focusing all his will. He flew to the river surface and activated the [Bloody Mary's Mirror World] travel function again.
The world blurred. The sounds of the clashing abominations faded into a distant echo. He was back.
He gasped for air. Though he didn't need it. His spectral form flickering with instability. The fight was still ongoing in the Mirror World.
He had no doubt that one of those entities would eventually be defeated. Most likely the cyborg slaver. He should avoid the Mirror Would for now. Until he was strong enough.
Jack refocused himself. He stopped thinking about the demon and the cyborg. He had eliminated the slavers. But he still needed to free the slaves.
He vanished back to invisibility. A wisp of smoke dissolving into the polluted air. He left behind only ripples in the dark river water.
Jack had a lot of work to do. And he still needed clothes.
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