Chapter 136: Lay low
Meanwhile, those who had access to the underground black market...
Somewhere in a small apartment, trash littered the entire place. All the lights were switched off, leaving only the computer monitor as the source of light in the room.
"What the..." came a groggy, disbelieving voice as the advertisement banner reflected in his eyes.
His dry lips parted... then his jaw dropped.
"...did he play roulette and land on White Serpent instead of Dominion—fuck!"
He shot up from his chair so fast it screeched against the floor.
"No, no, no—why White Serpent?!"
The man dragged both hands into his hair, pacing in the cramped space, nearly tripping over the scattered trash. His gaze snapped back to the screen... then to the file sitting beside it.
The file he deliberately hadn’t sent, just to avoid this exact situation.
"...shit." His breathing hitched. "Shit—shit—shit!"
He grabbed the file, then froze.
"Did he find out?" he whispered, but only the hum of the monitor answered him.
"...No. No, he couldn’t have. I didn’t send it. There’s no way he—" His eyes darted back to the screen.
The banner.
That damn banner.
"Fuck!" He threw the file back onto the desk, knocking over an empty can that clattered loudly onto the floor.
"I didn’t send it for a reason!" he snapped, as if arguing with someone who wasn’t there. "I was trying to keep us out of it!"
Out of a deadly war.
A full-blown war between two giants: Dominion and the White Serpent.
But now...
"Why?!" he hissed, grabbing his hoodie again, his fingers trembling. "Why would you poke White Serpent of all people?!"
His gaze slowly shifted back to the file. The file that could catapult all of this if he gave it to Ghost.
What was it?
It was just one clear record that connected Patrick, the supposed ambush, and the White Serpent’s new don.
"...don’t tell me..." his voice dropped, dread creeping in. "Ghost already knows... and is just testing me?"
He swallowed hard. "...I’m dead."
*****
Meanwhile, somewhere across the globe...
"Hmm?" Silvestre tilted his head, checking the massive advertisement banner on the black market site—a tarot card labeled:
[Today’s Mood]
There were very few people who could manipulate this market. Even the government couldn’t.
But there was only one person who could do something like this, and crazy enough to provoke an organization like the White Serpent.
Ghost.
The shadowy figure holding a white serpent in the image made it obvious.
Anyone in the underground could read that symbol like an alphabet.
It was a warning.
"What did we do to revive this holy ghost?" he wondered, though his eyes narrowed with interest. "And he appeared right after we provoked Dominion."
Silvestre nodded slowly. "Now, this is interesting. I thought Lucian had been getting boring, but it seems he still has some tricks up his sleeve."
"Boss." A voice came from the front passenger seat, glancing back at him. "We’re almost there."
Silvestre smiled widely. "Cancel it."
"Boss?"
"Let’s lay low for now," Silvestre raised his phone slightly. "Ghost has returned. It’s better to stay quiet until we figure out if he has a deal with Dominion."
The man in the passenger seat clenched his jaw, suppressing the urge to argue. Dominion alone was already a formidable enemy. But Ghost?
That was something else entirely.
"Dominion is a tricky enemy, but this ghost?" Silvestre hummed, eyes gleaming. "He’s trickier. I don’t like fighting someone I know nothing about."
Then he glanced at the man. "Find out if this is the real Ghost. Cancel the meeting. Tell them..." he trailed off, excitement flashing in his eyes. "...until we identify who else can infiltrate this party, postpone everything."
"Yes, sir."
*****
The next day, in Dominion...
Dominion started its day as usual: the helpers doing their chores, the plantation workers beginning early, and the guards changing shifts.
But unlike any normal day, the guards were noticeably louder.
"What in the world...?" Rum’s mouth fell open, his toast slipping from his grip.
Gin—the smallest and smartest of the group—caught it without even looking. His attention remained glued to his phone, his face filled with disbelief as the underground buzzed nonstop.
"Ghost is back?" the big guy, Vodka, whispered, also checking the updates. "I thought he retired?"
"That’s what the rumors say," Red replied, chewing his sandwich as he idled at their usual post near the plantation. Unlike the others, he simply watched Tank scroll through the web. "But is this really him?"
No one answered. They were too absorbed in the chaos flooding the black market.
The underground site functioned like any other app. Most users were anonymous, posting requests of all kinds. But unlike normal platforms, even the impossible could be found here.
Like the post they were currently scrolling through, a request worth millions for a person to be used in a sadistic experiment.
There were also leaked files, underground news, private group links, and more. Many of these "articles" were government-confidential documents—though their credibility was always questionable.
"Man... look at how things are changing just because they think Ghost is back," Rum muttered, taking a bite of his toast from Gin’s hand. "Everyone’s lying low for now — hah! How long has it been since anyone heard from this guy? Two years?"
Gin nodded. "Almost. Around that time."
It had been that long since Ghost disappeared.
Rumors had spread ever since.
Some said he retired, bored of the underground. Others claimed he was killed. Many believed the latter. This was the underworld, after all. If not dead, then rotting in jail.
"But why is he picking a fight with the White Serpent?" Rum frowned. "What the hell did those guys do to revive the undead?"
"Who knows?" Red shrugged. "Those bastards can die for all I care."
"Do you think Ghost is on our side now?" Vodka suddenly asked.
The others lifted their heads, looking at him.
Vodka shrugged. "Ghost is the Di Carpios’ benefactor. And since we’re allied with them through marriage... doesn’t that mean he’s on our side?"
They all paused, considering it.
Then, as usual, their gazes shifted to Gin.
"I don’t think so... but who knows?" Gin shrugged. "Still, it would be nice to have someone like him on our side. I’d love to work with him."
The others nodded in agreement.
Who wouldn’t want to work with Ghost?
They had heard that under his guidance, even the most incompetent group could complete missions flawlessly.
"That would be nice," Red said.
"I’d ask him to take me as his disciple," Rum added proudly.
"I heard he’s good at everything—hacking, close combat, long-range, even assassination," Vodka said.
"Assassination is his forte," Gin added. "Why do you think Marshal Di Carpio eliminated all his enemies and became number two?"
Little did they know... the very Ghost they admired was closer than they thought.
And she was currently having breakfast inside the mansion they were guarding, glaring daggers at Lucian.