chapter 42 : Threads in the Dark

Chapter 42: Threads in the Dark

The air inside the hideout was thick with tension. A single candle flickered on the wooden table, its glow casting long, shifting shadows against the cracked walls. Rin sat in silence, arms folded, eyes locked onto the dried blood on his sleeve.

Ezra leaned against the wall, her fingers tapping idly against her arm. "That masked bastard—" she exhaled, "—they weren't just some street-level assassin. The way they moved, the way those whips struck… It's not normal."

Selena, sitting on the couch with fresh bandages wrapped around her arm, nodded. "Their fighting style was too refined. Too deliberate. And that third whip—" She rubbed the bruises on her wrist. "It reacted before we could even think."

Ray, lying back in a chair with an ice pack over his swollen eye, scoffed. "Who the hell fights with whips, anyway? That's some old-school torture method."

Rin remained quiet, fingers lightly tracing the torn fabric over his ribs. He wasn't just thinking about the fight—he was replaying every second, every movement, every attack pattern.

That hidden whip… That was the real danger.

"I felt it before I saw it," Rin finally muttered.

Ezra arched a brow. "Felt it?"

Rin nodded, his grip tightening. "Right before it moved, I felt… pressure. Like something tugging at the edge of my senses." He looked up, meeting their gazes. "It's like the whip wasn't just in my shadow—it was part of it."

Selena tensed. "You mean…?"

Rin exhaled. "It doesn't just hide in shadows. It uses them."

Silence.

Ray sat up, the ice pack sliding off his face. "So what, are we dealing with some kinda supernatural freak now?"

Ezra shook her head. "No. If it was magic, we would've noticed." Her lips pressed into a thin line. "This is something else."

Selena hesitated before speaking. "There are rumors about people who train their weapons to act like extensions of their body. Old-world assassins, forgotten techniques, things you don't hear about in the open." She glanced at Rin. "What if that's what we're dealing with?"

Ezra exhaled. "Great. Just what we needed. A walking nightmare trained to kill without being seen."

Rin stood, stretching his shoulders. "Doesn't matter."

Ray blinked. "Doesn't matter? Were you even there, man? That thing almost split you open like a fish."

Rin rolled his shoulders, his voice steady. "Yeah. But now we know one thing."

Ezra smirked. "That they can bleed?"

Rin's eyes glinted. "Exactly."

The hideout door creaked open.

Charlotte entered, her dark cloak still dripping from the light rain outside. She pulled back her hood, shaking the droplets from her short silver hair. Her face was unreadable as she stepped forward, dropping a folded scrap of parchment onto the table.

"I found something," she said, voice low.

Ezra picked up the paper, unfolded it, and her expression darkened. "Shit."

Ray leaned forward. "What is it?"

Ezra read aloud: "Edmund Verrain."

Selena frowned. "Who?"

Charlotte's voice was almost a whisper. "He's not just an assassin. He's a professional executioner."

The room fell deathly silent.

Rin's fingers curled into a fist.

Executioner.

Not a killer. Not a mercenary. An executioner. Someone who didn't just take lives—they erased them.

Ezra exhaled. "I've heard of him before. He doesn't take contracts. He doesn't hunt for money. If he's after you, it means one thing."

Ray swallowed. "Someone doesn't just want us dead. They want us erased. No bodies, no evidence, no memory."

Selena looked at Rin. "And we already know he's not working alone. Someone sent him."

Rin's voice was cold. "Then we make them regret it."

Scene 3: The Unseen Chains

Hours passed. The candle burned lower, flickering as the storm outside whispered against the windows.

Rin sat alone now, his mind tracing invisible patterns across the table.

He was being hunted. Not just by anyone—but by a specialist. Someone who used blind spots, shadows, and deception as weapons.

And that meant Rin had to think differently.

A direct fight? No. He had barely survived the first.

Outmaneuvering? Unlikely. Edmund's unpredictable whip strikes were faster than his reactions.

Which left…

Rin exhaled, gripping the edge of the table. He had to do the one thing an executioner never expects.

He had to turn the hunt around.

But first, he needed bait.

And there was only one place in the city where killers thought they were safe.

A twisted grin formed on Rin's lips.

The Underground Coliseum.

Where killers became prey.