Chapter 19 - "The Phantom Chase"

A blur of movement. A trail of afterimages.

The thief leapt from rooftop to rooftop, defying the laws of gravity with casual gymnastics. Each bound was calculated, each movement fluid—clearing air ducts, revolving off rooftops, ricocheting off advertisements like a city ghost.

Off the ruined ceiling of the big auction hall, security teams sprinted into the chase, but they were already behind. The thief was not merely quick. They were invulnerable.

On the roof of a nearby skyscraper, Phantom stood motionless.

Not moving. Not about to pursue.

Simply observing.

Glitch floated alongside him, nearly incinerating with anger. "BRO, RUN! Your wife is escaping!"

Phantom's red eyes did not flinch.

"Shut up."

Then, he stepped forward.

One hand swept around his waist. A click. A transition.

From his belt, a compact weapon expanded.

A bow.

Not any bow—a work of art and engineering.

The instant it grew, the night air rippled around it, responding to its existence. Black metallic limbs with red energy veins throbbed like breathing metal. Sleek, deadly, and crafted for war.

The handle fit snugly into Phantom's hand as if it were meant to be there.

Glitch blinked. "Wait—what the devil is that?"

Phantom said nothing.

Instead, he drew back the bow and released.

One fluid motion—no hesitation, no wasted energy.

Four arrows fired in unison, shattering the sound barrier (Mach 1).

They curved in controlled flight paths, homing onto the path of the thief like missiles.

The Chase Begins.

The thief's senses went into overdrive. Danger.

She twisted mid-air, scraping her cheek against the first arrow as it destroyed a railing behind her. The second arrow sailed past her cheek, a hair's width miss.

Her movements changed—becoming sharper, more erratic.

The third arrow descended from beneath, arcing from a rebound shot. She flipped, just avoiding it.

But the fourth arrow?

Timed to perfection.

The thief had no moment to dodge—so she did the unthinkable.

A flick of the fingers.

A blur.

And another thief materialized.

No, not another. The same one. A flawless solid holographic duplicate.

The arrow struck the fake, shattering it into pixels, while the actual thief dropped onto a lamppost without a scratch.

Glitch's jaw dropped. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!?"

Phantom raised an eyebrow. "Holograms. Spotless ones."

He didn't care.

Glitch, though, was losing his grip on sanity. "How the hell do you defeat someone who can replicate like that!?"

Phantom said nothing.

But then he did something Glitch never would have predicted.

He shook the bow.

A transformation. A hum of power.

And the bow grew.

Its frame lengthened, its limbs elongated—its slender shape becoming a hideous war bow well over 2.25 meters long.

It was more than just a weapon.

It was a hunter.

Glitch flinched. "…Okay, what the actual hell—"

Phantom drew back the bow, his arm steady.

This time, he drew back the string fully.

The bow creaked. The metal frame flexed, taking monstrous tension.

The target was locked. The trajectory was perfect. He was ready.

But—something was missing.

Phantom's eyes narrowed. A quick tap to the side of his helmet.

Click.

Instantly, a familiar rhythm kicked in—drums pounding, guitar shredding. A legendary anthem flooding his mind. ROCKY.

Phantom smirked. "Now it feels better."

He twisted his wrist slightly, adding a controlled spin to the shot. Then—

Release.

A lone Mach 4 arrow.

The instant it flew off the string, the air itself broke.

The arrow didn't merely fly. It ripped through space like a railgun round.

It tore around in a mad spiral, building speed as it went, a bullet of pure destruction.

The thief acted quickly.

She snapped her fingers once more.

Ten duplicates of her materialized, flashing into being, all moving at ludicrous velocities.

But Phantom's gaze never wavered from the true one.

He folded up the bow, locking it back onto his belt.

As the bow collapsed back into place, Phantom reached 'Inventory'.

A silent command.

[Erebos: Deploy.]

The air shimmered. A vortex of digital particles twisted around his legs, and in the next instant—his boots fused.

Dark, metallic plates interlocked over his shins and feet. Crimson energy surged through hidden circuits as Terrain Rider activated.

The moment Phantom moved, there was no shockwave, no destruction—just absolute speed.

A quiet burst of velocity—no noise, no warning.

The Mach 4 arrow shrieked through the air, rotating in a whirlpool of raw destruction. Each and every holographic duplicate of the thief exploded on contact as the arrow hurtled through them, leaving nothing but flashing shreds in its path.

But before the arrow could strike its intended target—

A black blur sliced through the darkness.

Phantom moved at Mach 6.

One instant, he was on the rooftop.

The next—he was there.

Directly between the thief and the arrow.

Time slowed.

The arrow, the wind, the city lights—all of them faded into the distance as Phantom's two fingers casually snapped out, halting the Mach 4 projectile a bare few inches from the thief's nose.

A metallic hum. A soft vibration against his fingertips.

Then—the arrow halted dead.

Phantom flicked his wrist, sending the spent projectile spinning away into the abyss.

The thief?

Falling.

Momentum had proved her enemy. With her balance lost in mid-leap, gravity asserted itself.

But before she could fall—

A strong hand caught her.

Not tightly. Not forcibly.

But with ease.

Phantom's hand wrapped around her waist, holding her steady before she could even realize what was occurring.

The wind screamed past them.

City lights illuminated them in gold and silver.

For an instant—just an instant—there was nothing but silence.

Then—

Phantom smirked. His red eyes fixed on hers, his tone smooth.

"You owe me one."

The thief's breath hitched.

Her blue eyes went wide, flashing between shock, annoyance—and something more.

Her muscles were tense. Not with fear, but with understanding.

This wasn't just a hunter snatching his prey.

This was something more.

Glitch—who had been observing everything that had happened—was completely losing his mind.

"WHAT THE HELL KIND OF ROM-COM BS AM I WATCHING RIGHT NOW!?"

Phantom ignored him.

His grip relaxed just enough to offer the thief a choice.

She could leave.

Or she could stay.

The wind still blew. The city went on and on below them.

Her lips parted fractionally, as though to speak—

Then, she moved.

Not to escape.

Not to run.

But—

She took off her helmet.

In a quick movement, she flung it back, showing a fall of silver hair, piercing eyes blazing with mischief, and a grin to rival Phantom's own.

Then—before he could do anything about it—

She grabbed his collar and pulled him in.

A kiss.

Quick. Surprising. A mere whisper of contact.

A taunt. A statement. A challenge.

Before Phantom could even realize it, she drew back, her grin growing wider.

Helmet returned to her head.

A teasing salute.

"See you soon, wolfy."

She took a step back into the air—

And disappeared.

Not jumped. Not teleported.

Just disappeared.

Like a ghost.

Phantom remained standing, still conscious of the feel of her lips against his face.

He was calm outside but something cracked inside.

He felt as if all of his nerves got cut.

Glitch?

Glitch was in the midst of an utter breakdown.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH—BRO SHE KISSED YOU! SHE FREAKIN' KISSED YOU!! WHAT IN THE ABSOLUTE HELL JUST HAPPENED!?!?!"

Phantom remained quiet for a moment.

Then, bit by bit, his smirk began to reemerge.

"Heh. Interesting."

Phantom remained motionless, his eyes fixed on the point where she disappeared. His heart continued to rage, pumping like war drums. His fingers involuntarily curled and uncurled as though attempting to comprehend the past seconds.

Glitch hovered next to him, utterly shocked. His ember-like eyes danced in maddening fashion, his whole body glitching into and out of existence due to sheer disbelief.

"What the HELL just happened?!" Glitch finally shouted. "Bro, your wife just kissed you and the FIRST thing you do is—"

Phantom pulled out his communicator and started dialing.

Glitch's eyes widened in shock.

"No way… No freaking way…" The small spirit's flames lashed wildly. "Don't tell me you're—"

The call connected.

A fuzzy video feed came on screen, with Victor standing in the midst of total chaos.

Swords clashed. Explosions went off in the distance. Victor dodged an oncoming blow, kicked a dude through a wall, then flipped in mid-air and cut down two more foes in one fluid motion.

"Bro, I'm kinda busy fighting here!" Victor yelled between dodges.

Phantom's voice was dead serious.

"Were you around me in the last few seconds?"

Victor braked to a halt. "...What?"

Phantom put a hand on his chest. His tone was perfectly serene.

"Because my heart was beating faster than a train."

Silence.

Even Victor's enemies froze for a moment, as if the secondhand embarrassment had physically hit them.

But then—

The absurdity of those words reached beyond just the people.

A bullet, mid-flight, froze inches from Victor's face.

A fireball, roaring toward him, sputtered and stalled in midair, as if reconsidering its existence.

Even the very wind itself hesitated, whispering, "Wait… what?"

The enemies exchanged horrified glances. One of them lowered his weapon.

"Bro… what the hell did he just say?"

Victor stood there, gripping his sword so tightly it nearly snapped in half. His eye flickered.

"...BRO."

Phantom didn't flinch. "Just answer me."

Victor pinched the bridge of his nose, took a deep breath, then yelled, "DON'T SAY THAT KIND OF DIALOGUE WHEN I'M FIGHTING! I MIGHT VOMIT IN FRONT OF MY OPPONENT!"

And then—he cut the call.

Silence.

Glitch stood there, glaring at Phantom.

Then—he erupted into hysterical laughter.

"AHHHHAHAHAHA—BRO—" The spirit was wheezing. His tiny body kept flickering from laughing so hard. "SHE KISSES YOU—AND YOU CALL YOUR FRIEND—TO ASK IF HE WAS AROUND?!"

Phantom ignored him.

Glitch facepalmed himself. "I CAN'T. I CAN'T WITH YOU."

Phantom finally moved. His fingers stroked his lips, but not in sentiment.

He pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth—then spat something out into his palm.

A small, almost imperceptible device glittered in the moonlight. A tracker.

Glitch's laughter immediately died. His eyes widened. "...Wait. What?"

Phantom kept the tracker inside his pocket. His voice was calm, but cold.

"That kiss wasn't out of love."