"What on earth did I do..."

The sound of murmuring arose.

Lying on the bed in his lodging, Gu Mo rested his hands behind his head, his eyes staring straight at the ceiling. In the corner of the bedside, the green-streaked wooden mask lay quietly. Outside, a cacophony echoed, with sirens wailing from afar and close as police cars drove by in threes and twos.

Every now and then, loud disputes and commotion, angry shouts, and screams resounded. It was the clash between the demonstrators and the law enforcement forces intervening in this city.

The lingering impact from last night was incredibly profound, so early in the morning, the Japanese Government took action... Ahem, of course, that's how it appeared on the surface; in reality, everything centered around the United States, America first, America's interests first.

So it's not surprising that some conflicts occurred, especially considering how ruthless the US Army can be, even to their own people, so don't expect too much.

However, Gu Mo didn't really care about any of this; he just lay quietly in his room, on the bed he had been using for a while now, his ears shut to the outside world... The joys and sorrows of people do not connect; he only felt they were noisy—though, ironically, he had been the noisiest one before.

Just like how Cinderella's magic failed after midnight—

At the very moment when the first ray of dawn pierced through the dark night and fell upon the earth, the mask belonging to the "Night Wanderer" naturally lost its mischievous magic.

Therefore, having returned to his lodging before that, Gu Mo was now in a normal state; his reason, his emotions, his way of thinking... and so on, all had returned, and he had put back on the familiar mask of his personality, reverting to who he originally was.

Then.

After regaining himself, he fell into deep confusion and introspection.

If at this moment, he were to light a cigarette and smoke in the room, filling it with swirling smoke, it would probably feel just like that... confusion, languor, immense dejection, so resembling youth.

Just like his current murmuring, it was his deepest self-reflection, from the heart—

"...It was amazing!" The murmuring sound echoed in the room.

Emmmmm...

Ahem, well, perhaps there wasn't really much self-reflection going on after all.

Unlike the movie protagonist who at first only considered the night's transformation an absurd dream and gradually came to understand it, Gu Mo was prepared from the beginning, and remembered clearly what had happened before—

It was a very peculiar feeling; clearly, everything was done by himself, remembered vividly from a first-person perspective, and even the emotions at the time were clearly imprinted, felt from the heart.

Yet now, under normal self-examination, Gu Mo felt that he might have been experiencing a split personality at the time.

Perhaps it's just like a sober person who cannot fully comprehend the emotional sensitivity and recklessness of their drunken self, hugging a tree without letting go, crying with the whole body trembling...

—Clearly, they are actually the same person, aren't they? How can just one trigger, one change of state, create such a tremendous contrast between before and after?

"Hoo..."

Five fingers spread, he deeply ran them through his long tousled hair from his forehead and turned over on the bed, letting out a long sigh. He knew what the movie character would do, but he didn't want to become like that, so he was consciously trying to resist from the beginning.

—Or rather, control the side effects of the mask.

Now it seems, it's hard to say whether he succeeded or failed; he didn't become a copy of the movie character, mimicking their style in every word and deed... but he still couldn't help but let himself go, in his own way.

That state was really strange, like being drunk, but even wilder than being drunk. After all, a drunk person's actions are limited, and their thoughts are muddled, not clear. They may have made a fool of themselves, but that's about it; the damage is relatively limited.

But Gu Mo's strange state, transformed by the mask's magic, was quite different, with emotions and thoughts like runaway horses, countless ideas turning in his mind every moment, each capable of exploding to the limit in an instant, then guiding his actions for a while.

—Such an idea is super fun! I'm going to do it!

—That idea is too interesting! I'm going to do it!

—Oooooo, this plan is too cool, I must do it immediately right now!

Something like that, and at the time, he was extremely capable of action, able to make the false appear true, completely in control of the powers of lies and deceit, effortlessly playing with the world of the night in the palm of his hand... This level of destructiveness was truly astonishing.

Carefully recalling his state at that time, his words and deeds, Gu Mo looked deep and didn't make a sound. Feelings of shame and the like were there, but not enough to make him feel socially dead or anything.

At least not like in some previous times, where the memory of posting youthful literary quotes on social media at midnight made him cringe so much his scalp tingled, tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep the whole night in discomfort.

More so, he was indifferent, not knowing whether he thought his performance then wasn't shameful at all... or perhaps he thought that with the mask on, not many could recognize him back then?

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