đ Chapter 14 â Trap and Revelations
The night hung heavy over the deserted district. The headlights of vehicles cast fleeting shadows on crumbling facades, while the wind carried distant echoes of a city pretending to sleep. Inside the car, Ken, still inhabiting Ayato's body, gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles whitened. Every muscle in his body was taut, every breath measured. Beside him, Ariel sat unmoving, his calm almost irritating, yet the tension beneath his stoic exterior was palpable.
"You know," Ariel murmured, voice icy, "some decisions demand sacrifices. Even if it tears you apart inside."
Ken's head snapped toward him, eyes blazing.
"Sacrifices? You mean burning Ezekiel alive! Destroying everything! How can you even justify this?"
Ariel shrugged, as if brushing away an invisible speck of dust.
"For the family. You'll understand⊠or perish for failing to."
Silence fell again, heavy and electric. Ken felt his anger bubbling, a storm within him, yet he knew a single misstep could cost them everything.
Suddenly, headlights pierced the shadows. Vehicles surrounded theirs from all sides. A sharp detonation rang out. The trap had closed.
"Shit!" Ken yelled, pounding the wheel. Bullets whistled around them, metal screeching and glass shattering. The smell of burning rubber, gunpowder, and smoke filled the air. The car rocked violently, and Ken's heart pounded like a hammer in his chest.
"We have to get out of here!" he shouted.
"Calm down, White Wolf," Ariel said, his voice steady, the hint of a cold glint in his eyes. "Panic saves no one."
Ken leaped from the car, taking cover behind a bullet-pocked sedan. Ariel moved like a shadow, precise and deadly, neutralizing attackers with a choreography that was terrifying in its fluidity. Together, they became a deadly dance: ducking, shooting, moving, anticipating.
The alley smelled of blood and gunpowder. Metal twisted under the force of bullets. Ken's muscles burned, his mind firing with pure instinct and calculation. Ariel's unpredictability gnawed at himâhe could trust him, but never fully.
They moved from car to car, each step synchronized with the crackle of gunfire and the ricochet of bullets. Ken felt the sting of a graze on his arm, blood mingling with sweat as adrenaline sharpened his senses. He noticed every detail: the slight quiver in an enemy's hand, the shadow of movement on a wall, the echo of footsteps behind him. Every second counted.
From the shadows, a heavy step approached. A tall figure emerged, exuding a chilling confidence.
"Impressive⊠you're not as clumsy as I thought," the figure said.
Ken's anger turned into adrenaline. Fingers clenched around his weapon. Ariel placed a hand on his arm, a silent reminder to focus.
"Prepare yourself, White Wolf," Ariel murmured. "This one will test you."
The masked man moved with astonishing agility, countering each attack, ducking bullets, striking with precision. Every shot from Ken and Ariel had to be perfect. Every movement measured. One mistake, one hesitation, and death would find them.
Ken was thrown backward when a bullet hit the wall behind him. He scrambled to his feet, witnessing Ariel dispatch an enemy with ruthless efficiency. The masked manâEnzoâapproached, each step deliberate, intimidating, a storm of quiet menace.
Ken's mind raced: strategy, positioning, escape routes. He remembered training sessions, lessons from Ayato, each one sharpening his reflexes. Time seemed suspended, bullets frozen midair in his vision, heartbeats stretching.
"You're not ready for what's coming," Enzo whispered, almost amused. "But I'll admit⊠you've got guts."
Ken felt the alley vibrate with explosions and the weight of countless decisions. Rage, fear, and strategy intertwined. He understood that failure to neutralize this figure quickly meant certain doom.
For a tense moment, the chaos paused. Ken's thoughts flickeredâflashbacks of his training with Ayato, lessons in patience, reflex, and control. Each memory strengthened his resolve. He remembered the promise he made: never lose control, never let vengeance blind him.
Finally, they dropped their weapons in a tense standoff. The masked man removed his mask. Familiarity struck Ken like a lightning bolt.
"My name is Enzo Torne," he said calmly. "But this is just a piece of the game. Every move, every reaction⊠orchestrated long before tonight."
A heavy silence fell. Enzo's eyes scanned them, calculating, cold.
"Even Bill was only following the plan my⊠cousin devised. Each decision, every action⊠it was all set. Finding Annie? Bill is foolish."
Ken felt the weight of realization settle like a stone in his chest. The true shadow behind this was not just Enzoâit was deeper, older, and far more dangerous.
---
Elsewhere, EloĂŻse flipped through a dusty journal she had found in an abandoned shop. The pages were yellowed, brittle, and the ink faded with time. A date at the top of the page made her gasp: fifteen years ago.
> Tragic Explosion: Torne Family Grieves
Maria Torne, Ben Torne, and their eldest son Ezekiel Torne perished in a car explosion. Cause remains unknown.
The words burned in her mind: Ezekiel was alive. Every lie, every manipulated truth, now connected like pieces of a cruel puzzle. EloĂŻse felt her hands tremble. The city outside the shop felt colder, darker, as if the night itself whispered secrets she was only beginning to uncover.
Meanwhile, Yuri moved with precise, calculated steps through John Grigor's mansion. Every guard neutralized, every trap avoided, his movements silent yet deadly. Each fallen enemy was a warning, a testament to his control and efficiency. When he finally reached John, the bodies strewn across the floor were silent witnesses to his mastery.
The night air grew heavy, charged with the promise of a war yet to unfold. Every heartbeat, every breath, carried the weight of vengeance and revelation. For Ken, Ariel, EloĂŻse, and Yuri, the darkness of the city had only just begun to reveal its teeth.