Chapter 17: Enter the predator

13 December

Midday sun pressed against Devil's Side like a weight. Crowds buzzed as usual, but he could feel it — something beneath the surface, something broken.

From the rooftop of an old coaching center, Bunnyman crouched low, eyes scanning the perimeter of the schoolyard. He'd been watching since early morning. Students came and went, laughing, yelling, joking like normal.

His fingers tightened on the edge of the building. Something about the air felt—

Off.

A sudden voice behind him.

"You've gotten quieter. Almost thought you forgot how to talk."

He didn't need to turn. That teasing tone was all too familiar.

Lady Tape stood behind him — or rather leaned casually against a vent, twirling a strand of her hair like none of this mattered.

She wore the same wicked smirk that always said she was two steps ahead — even when she wasn't.

"Where have you been?" he asked without turning.

"Working," she purred, stepping beside him. "Important things. Secret things. Dangerous things. But… I missed your cute little ears."

He exhaled, annoyed. "This isn't a game."

She tilted her head. "Everything's a game if you know how to play it."

He didn't respond. Just pointed at the school.

"Students are going missing. Quietly. No one's talking. Teachers act like it never happened."

She hummed, her eyes finally shifting to the street below. "So we're hunting ghosts now?"

"We're hunting the truth."

She looked at him sideways. "You want my help that badly?"

"Yes."

"Mmm… But what about our deal?" she teased, lips curving.

"You remember the condition, don't you?"

He looked at her, silent for a moment. Then—

"I remember."

Before she could say more, his eyes caught a sudden movement below — a student being yanked into a black car across the street.

"There—!" he shouted, already moving.

The car screeched as it sped off.

Lady Tape swung forward, her tape latching to a streetlight.

Bunnyman leapt after her, rooftop to rooftop. The car zigzagged through alleys, faster than it should've been. Someone was trying very hard to not get followed.

But they were gaining on it.

Until—

A figure landed between them and the car.

Hard.

Asphalt cracked beneath his boots. He stood tall, muscles coiled, completely still.

All-black clothing. Pale skin. White, empty eyes.

No words.

Just presence.

And pressure.

Bunnyman halted. Even Lady Tape stopped mid-swing, landing beside him with narrowed eyes.

"Friend of yours?" she muttered.

Bunnyman shook his head. "No. But I think we just found who's really behind the wheel."

The black car vanished around the corner. They didn't chase it.

They couldn't.

The figure ahead didn't move.

Didn't speak.

He just smiled.