Chapter 2: Ghost Market

Johannesburg – 3:14 A.M.

The bus hissed as it came to a stop, releasing its handful of tired passengers into the cold Johannesburg air. The streets were wet, smelling of burning fuel and old beer—probably Black Label, the Southern Africa favorite.

Thabiso was the last to step off. Hood up. Hands deep in his coat pockets.No luggage. Less trace.

Eyes down. Shoulders square. Keep moving. No unnecessary glances.

He knew better than to stay in one place too long.

In a city like this, stillness meant exposure.Exposure meant death.

He cut through the crowd like smoke, ignoring the catcalls, the beggars, and the street dealers pretending not to deal. He didn't look at anyone. He didn't need to. In fact, he shouldn't. Any extra contact could blow his cover.

He kept his head low, boots crunching on dirty pavement, headed east—toward the old neighborhoods.

Toward the only person who might still help him disappear.

If she hadn't changed her mind.

Jeppestown – 7:30 PM

The alley was tight and smelled like piss, sweat, and old sewage. Flies buzzed near a broken drain. A flickering neon sign above a metal door painted the walls red.

Thabiso walked up to it and knocked in rhythm:Two. Pause. One. Wait. Three.

Silence.

Then a soft mechanical sound—click—as a camera above him powered on.

The metal door opened with a long creak.

He stepped inside.

"Neo," he said, voice dry and rough.

"Echo," a woman answered from the shadows. Her voice was flat. Cold.And the ghost walks.

"I came to collect my debt."

"You really think that still counts? With Venta hunting you?" she said, stepping into the light. "That's a kind of heat I didn't sign up for."

She looked mostly the same—sharp eyes, shaved sides, tattoos running down her arms like barcodes. But the tiredness in her face was new. This world had aged all of them.

Still, her features were soft. Beautiful in a dangerous kind of way. The type of beauty that made weak men do stupid things. But Thabiso wasn't weak. And Neo wasn't someone who needed saving.

She turned and motioned him inside.

The place was a bunker. Thick concrete walls. Steel beams. Server racks lining the back wall. Red lights blinked. Machines hummed softly like they were breathing.

This was The Ghost Market—her safe zone. Her domain.

"Still," she said, pulling an old metal chair for him, "I never could resist a suicide mission."

Thabiso sat down, water dripping from his coat.

"I need to disappear."

"You and half the damn continent," Neo muttered, lighting a Peter. "You want total erasure?"

"I want out. Face, prints, voice, all of it—gone."

Neo raised an eyebrow. She walked over to one of her monitors, tapping a few keys.

"Venta put out a burn notice. You know that, right?"

"I figured."

"You're not just hunted. You're marked. Every freelance killer on the dark web just got your photo and a payday promise."

Thabiso didn't flinch. "And yet, here I am."

Neo let out a dry chuckle. "That takes balls. Or stupidity."

She walked back to the table and pulled a small flash drive from a drawer. It had a symbol on it—Venta's logo.

She placed it on the table between them.

"This is what I want."

"What is it?"

"Data. Locked behind one of Venta's black vaults in Windhoek. Code name Kraken."

Thabiso stared at it. The air between them got heavier.

"You want me to break into Venta," he said.

"No," she replied. "I want you to steal from them. Quietly. No bullets, no blood—unless it's yours."

Thabiso leaned back in the chair. "That's a big ask for someone already on the run."

"That's the price of disappearing, Echo. You want to vanish from their eyes? Bring me the Kraken."

He stayed silent for a moment. Then asked, "What's on it?"

Neo looked him in the eyes. "Insurance. Blackmail. Leverage. Maybe all three. All I know is it's locked up tighter than a nuke. And Venta doesn't lock up anything unless it's dangerous."

Thabiso exhaled slowly.

"I do this, and I disappear for good?"

Neo nodded. "New name. New face. Birth records. ID. The works. Not even Venta's top AI will find you."

He stood up, picked up the flash drive, and slid it into his coat pocket.

"I'll need gear."

"Already got you a drop box near the train station. Clothes, burner, tools, cash."

Thabiso nodded.

He started walking toward the exit, but Neo called out behind him.

"Echo."

He paused.

"Be careful. They won't let you walk away twice."

Outside – 7:57 PM

A car was parked three blocks away. Inside, a man sat with a headset on, eyes locked on a screen showing a thermal feed.

He spoke into his mic.

"Target confirmed. Echo is alive. Made contact with Subject Neo."

"Orders?"

"Hold position. Do not engage. Coil wants visual only. If he makes a move... we follow."

The car engine stayed off. Just the sound of static and breathing.

Somewhere in the darkness, a hunter waited.