The rain deepened as night settled after Amon finished his meal with his family.
He entered his room, shut the door, and stayed up to read the novel he had borrowed from the library.
After reading for a long while, so engrossed that he lost track of time, he finally stood up, stretched lightly, and lay on his bed to rest.
His thoughts drifted, becoming increasingly hazy, and he felt his mind begin to spin faintly, as though invisible strings were tugging at it.
In deep sleep, beneath his mask, Amon furrowed his brows as an uncomfortable, suffocating sensation spread through him.
Before he realized it, he had appeared in a misty, grey world.
The world was filled with endless grey clouds, and there were no birds, trees, or any sign of life in sight.
Amon glanced around, gradually realizing where he was.
'This is… a dream?'
He was slightly startled. Since coming to this world, he had never experienced a dream this vivid.
He stood among the drifting clouds, taking in the quiet, surreal sight.
The air felt slightly humid, and a cool breeze brushed past, fluttering his clothes softly.
Just then, Amon sensed a subtle shift in the atmosphere.
He turned to his side, only to see a middle-aged man sitting casually on a chair that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, smoking a pipe.
The pipe in his hand emitted thin wisps of smoke that carried a faint scent of mint.
The man inhaled deeply, then exhaled a slow cloud of smoke that merged into the surrounding mist.
'What? How can someone be inside my dream? And someone I've never even seen before…?'
Amon's mind raced as he studied the man closely, trying to discern his features.
However, the man's face remained obscured by swirling smoke.
Taking a steady breath, Amon approached.
"You brought me here?" he asked in a calm tone as he reached the man after a few brisk steps across the grey clouds.
The man lifted his head slightly, his face still hidden by the haze.
"I have a few questions for you," he said.
Without waiting for Amon's response, the man continued, his tone unhurried.
"Last night, the neighbors said they saw you leaving for Harbor Street. You returned late, in the rain. What did you go there to do?"
Hearing that, Amon's expression shifted beneath the mask. Fortunately, even in this strange dreamscape, his mask remained, concealing every trace of emotion.
He steadied his breathing and replied evenly, "I went looking for my sister."
The man was silent for a moment. Whether he believed Amon or not was uncertain, but something beneath the surface felt unsettling.
"Do you know that Brad and all ten of his men were found dead?"
Amon's expression changed slightly again.
"Brad?" he repeated, pausing as though in thought.
Should he admit knowing Brad? That would draw suspicion, especially since he had received a letter from him.
But denying it entirely might also expose him if they had already discovered the boy who had delivered the message.
Amon quickly realized that this man was not ordinary—another individual like Old Man Don.
'Someone with a supernatural power!'
'Should I imitate Old Man Don's personality and kill him? No, that won't work. There's no sword here, and this isn't the real world. That would only expose my own abilities.'
Countless thoughts flashed through Amon's mind in an instant.
"I think I recall someone like that," he said indifferently, his tone suggesting he cared little about Brad's fate.
The man rose slowly, his rough dark suit rustling as his unseen eyes seemed to pierce through Amon.
Amon held his gaze briefly, then looked away as if unable to withstand the invisible pressure emanating from him.
The man chuckled lightly, then turned and began walking away. His figure gradually dissolved into the mist.
His calm, distant voice echoed faintly as he vanished.
"According to our sources, we believe you had something to do with their deaths. I will find out the truth, and when I do…"
He did not finish, but Amon felt a cold shiver crawl down his spine.
He stood still for several minutes, waiting, scanning his surroundings. When the man did not return, Amon slowly relaxed.
He gazed around at the endless drifting clouds.
'What am I supposed to do here? How do I get back to my body? Is my consciousness trapped?'
Panic threatened to rise in him, but he took a deep breath to steady himself.
After a moment's contemplation, he looked at the empty chair before him and sat down.
Straightening his back, he mimicked the man's posture precisely, even the way his hands had rested while holding the pipe.
From a distance, their mannerisms would have looked almost identical.
Amon began to speak in a composed, controlled voice—the same tone the man had used earlier.
"I have a few questions for you."
Feeling that his voice sounded too stiff, he cleared his throat and tried again.
"I have a few questions for you…"
'His tone carried subtle authority… and he naturally exuded a sense of pressure,' Amon analyzed quietly.
Readjusting his posture, he spoke again, perfectly imitating the man this time.
"I have a few questions for you…"
"Last night, the neighbors said they saw…"
Amon's words trailed off into the thinning grey mist.
Then, glowing text appeared before his eyes.
[Congratulations, Faceless, on mimicking the traits of Inspector Lee.]
[Identity: Inspector Lee.]
[D-Grade Aspect: Dream Infiltration.]
[Dream Infiltration: An aspect that allows one to enter the dreams of others. Caution: entering the dreams of those with stronger mental fortitude can cause the user to become lost in their illusions.]
[Impersonation Percentage: 10%]
Amon's gaze paused on the aspect's description.
'Just as I expected, someone with supernatural powers. And he's an inspector. How did they connect the incident to me so quickly?'
He touched his face, feeling the faint texture of rough skin, the beard, and the thin mustache clinging to his upper lip.
'How troublesome.'
...
A/N: apologies for dropping the chapter late. I was slightly feverish. I hope you enjoy the opening of this novel. Support by adding to your library and giving a power stone or two. Thank you.