I stood beneath the solitary streetlamp, its upright spine cutting through the restless sea of shadows that ebbed and flowed around me. Cabalena was nowhere to be seen—yet.
The lamps themselves were scattered haphazardly, as if some careless god had tossed them across the street, but their light stayed loyal. Each patch of illumination on the cracked pavement was its own lonely island, and I was stranded on one.
"Don't you dare quit on me now, legs," I hissed, rapping my thigh like I could drum up some courage, nerves prickling as I waited for Cabalena to slip out from the shadows.
My eyes refused to stray from the shifting dark ahead. I waited, every nerve strung tight, searching for the smallest sign. Then, just at the edge of my vision, the shadow rippled—once, twice. In a blink, a long arm with knife-sharp claws tore through the gloom, reaching for me.
Instinct kicked in. I leapt backward, feet pounding the asphalt as I bolted for the next pool of light. Cabalena wasn't about to give me breathing room—his shadow slid after me, silent and sudden as a cat in the dark.
By the time I reached the safety of the next lamp, he was already there, his movements so quick they blurred at the edges of sight. His hand lunged, claws gleaming, but I jerked away just in time.
Not fast enough. Pain flared across my chest—a burning line where his claws had grazed me. I staggered, heart hammering, but managed to throw myself into the next circle of light, leaving a thin trail of blood hanging in the air behind me.
Cabalena stood beneath the lamp, his gaze unreadable, eyes catching the light in a way that made my skin crawl. "You can't run forever, kid," her voice echoed, spilling from every corner of the shadows, as if the darkness itself was speaking.
My breath came ragged, chest burning. The wound wasn't deep, but the blood was warm, sticky as it seeped through my shirt.
"This would all be over a lot quicker if we didn't play this little game of cat and mouse," he drawled, his tone half-amused, half-exasperated.
Cat and mouse? As if I wanted to play games. All I wanted was to go home.
"Just give me the book and you can go home. No fuss, no drama. I'm beat too, you know—been on my feet all day," he said, cracking his neck.
Meanwhile, my mind was racing, scrambling for any crack in the wall—a way out. If this game of cat and mouse kept up, it wouldn't just be my chest on the line. Next time, it might be my head.
Cabalena still stood frozen beneath the streetlamp, his silhouette carved out by the pale glow. I glanced down at the shadow under my own feet—panic prickling up my spine. What if he decided to pop out from right here?
Wait.
A sudden spark of realization flickered in my brain. Why could Cabalena only appear from the shadows around me, not from the one cast by my own body? Streetlights still made shadows, after all.
I looked at Cabalena, this time with a glimmer of fresh confidence.
"You can't slip out from under my own shadow, can you?" I asked, fighting back a sly grin. He just stared, silent.
The pieces clicked into place. Earlier, he'd managed to crawl out of my shadow only because of the artificial sun.
"With sunlight, even if that from artificial sun, you get the real deal—bright, complete, casting shadows that are sharp and deep," I said, letting a bit of pride slip into my voice.
"Those are the kind of shadows you can dive into, right?"
I glanced up at the lamp above me, then continued, "But these streetlights? Their glow's weak, scattered, barely focused." I eyed the faint, shapeless blur beneath my feet. "That's why the shadows are so thin, so soft—barely there at all. You can't get a grip on them."
"You can't come out from here," I went on, my voice growing steadier. "As long as I stand under the lamp, I'm safe, Cabalena. I can keep dodging you until I find a way out of this place."
Cabalena just watched me, his expression impossible to read. I had no idea what storm was brewing in his head, but my mouth was already running ahead of my thoughts.
"Why are you people after this book?" I asked, arms instinctively wrapping tighter around the bag pressed to my chest.
He shrugged, "Suppose it doesn't hurt to tell you," he said, his tone light. "Someone's willing to pay a serious cash for this thing. If I can sell it, my act could keep running for four, maybe five more years."
"You mean… someone actually knows about this book?" I pressed, my voice low and tense.
"Yeah. Folks from the surface wants it," he replied.
My mind spun, chewing over every word.
"Who?" I pressed, my voice sharper than I intended.
"For that, sorry—can't say. Buyer's privacy," he replied, his tone icing over.
I paused, then threw out a wild card, "What if I help you make the sale?"
Cabalena's eyes went wide, surprise freezing him mid-breath. "What's that supposed to mean?" he muttered, almost suspicious.
"I've always wanted to sell it, honestly. But I'm also dying to know—what's the real story behind this book?" I tried to play it cool, even as my heart hammered like a warning bell.
"And?" Cabalena's stare sharpened, cutting right through me.
"I go with you when you make the deal. We split the profit—eighty-twenty. I'll take the twenty. Not a bad cut, right?" My tongue twisted around the lie, my face no doubt betraying my nerves. The words slipped out with my breath.
Cabalena fell silent. The hush between us grew thick, pressing in on my chest. I swallowed, but the sound cracked in my throat as he finally spoke.
"You know how clowns make a living, how we find meaning?" His voice was soft, almost a murmur that danced between the shadows.
"We live by deception. Trick people into laughing, trick them into happiness. Lies are the air we breathe every day, and you—for some reason—have the guts to try it on me."
Without warning, Cabalena dove into the shadows. In a blink, he vanished. I tried to leap to the other side, but a strange sensation swept over me—like he'd shot past, ignoring me altogether.
I was no longer the prey.
Suddenly, the lamp posts began to topple, one after another. The coral bulbs shattered, shards scattering and melting into the darkness that swallowed everything. Not just one—two, three, even more. The lights died out, one by one, like stars falling from a stormy sky.
I blinked, ears ringing with the shriek of snapping metal. Lamp posts crashed down, bulbs bursting in a chain of explosions. In an instant, darkness swallowed everything—thick, absolute, unforgiving.
"Damn it!" I bolted, lungs burning, panic scraping at my throat.
Suddenly, a ripple echoed nearby—like something slithering just beneath the surface.
"You really shouldn't have run your mouth about those lamps," Cabalena's voice cut through the black, cold and razor-sharp. In a blink, he was right in front of me, his long fingers plunging into my left side. "Shame, really. I was hoping to take you alive," he whispered in my ear, his breath icy.
His hand clamped down on my shoulder, then slowly withdrew, his fingers slick with my blood. Warmth gushed from my stomach, and my mouth filled with the taste of iron. My knees buckled—I dropped in front of him, the world spinning out of focus.
"Damn… damn it…" My hands flew to the wound, desperate to staunch the flow, but my vision was already swimming, my head a lead weight.
With a gentleness that felt almost mocking, Cabalena pried the bag from my arms. "Told you before—we could've both walked out of here," he murmured.
I managed a thin, pained smile. "Was that a lie too?"
Cabalena didn't answer. As he started to step back, his body suddenly jerked—a staff came hurtling out of the darkness, streaking toward him like a meteor tearing through the night.
Cabalena slipped into the shadows in the blink of an eye, narrowly dodging the staff that smashed into the ground with an earth-shaking boom. The shockwave rattled my bones, even as I stayed on my knees, leaving a gaping crater where the street used to be. Dust mushroomed up, the air itself trembling.
Amid the chaos, a strange, familiar scent cut through the blood and pain—a whiff of instant noodles, oddly comforting, threading its way through the haze.
A silhouette stood atop the embedded staff. "Yo, still breathing?" came a laid-back greeting.
"Yeah, right—fit as a fiddle, damn it!" I croaked, half-laughing, my voice ragged with relief and despair.
The hobo from yesterday stood tall on his staff, the unmistakable aroma of noodles clinging to him, stubborn even as my senses dulled.
"Didn't think you'd end up on Cabalena's hit list," he said, snapping his fingers. Dozens of staffs rained down from above, spearing into the ground with bone-jarring force. Each one bore a lantern that flared to life, flooding the darkness with blinding light. In an instant, the street transformed from pitch black to a sea of brilliance.
Cabalena materialized in the center of the glowing circle, his face twisted in a scowl. "You… Hozi, the Monkey of Papyrus. Are you after the book too?"
Hozi shrugged, grinning wide. "Nah, just paying back a favor. But if a big shot like Cabalena shows up for a scruffy old book… well, now I'm curious."
Cabalena tightened his grip on the bag, eyes narrowing. "Stay out of this, Monkey. Last warning."
Hozi chuckled. "Let me give you a little tip, Cabalena."
"Is that so? Enlighten me."
"One way or another, I'll be the one holding that book." In a flash, Hozi shot toward Cabalena, fast as a bolt of lightning. The gust from his movement nearly knocked me over. But Cabalena was slipperier than a cat—he melted into the shadows, vanishing without a trace, leaving only his fedora behind, now spinning in Hozi's hand.
I couldn't hold on any longer. My legs gave out, and I collapsed to the ground. Blood poured from my wound, strength draining away, the world dissolving into a blur of swirling light and sound at the edge of consciousness.
So this is it? Dying for a battered old book? What a joke.
I hadn't even said goodbye to Paris and Lon—our time together was so short. I never even met Adonis and Ashsa. There are so many things left unsaid, so many faces I barely got to know.
Sorry, Erin. I couldn't get your body back home after all. But hey, let's be real—this is eighty percent your fault for falling asleep first. You always said I was useless in a fight when left on my own, and now look where we've ended up.
Ah, my eyes are getting heavy… can't seem to keep them open any longer. That hobo is coming closer now. For some reason, I want to catch that smell of instant noodles one more time. I don't know why, but I just want to taste it again, just once more before everything fades away.
I still don't know who I am—not really. This can't be it, not yet.
I've barely scratched the surface of this world.
…
Not now.
There are so many faces I haven't met.
...
…
…
I'm not finished.
...
…
…
I'm not done living.
…
…
…
Without realizing it, everything faded to black, silence swallowing the world, my senses slipping away one by one.
…
…
…
Suddenly, words blazed before my eyes.
「YOU DIED」
「THE CURSE OF THE FIRST CROWN HAS ACTIVATED!」