Chapter 139: A New War Begins

The darkness engulfed the alley, causing it to tremble as if the very stones were crumbling apart.

Vincent stumbled back, his claws scraping against the cracked pavement beneath his feet. His golden eyes pierced through the blackness, searching with intensity.

“Camela!” he shouted, his voice breaking the silence. “Where are you?”

Her scream had faded. The officers had disappeared, and the light from the lantern had been snuffed out.

He rushed forward—but the two officers who had been holding her twisted in the dark. Their faces melted like candle wax, their uniforms dripping into the dark waterholes. Yet he wasn’t alone.

A cold voice breathed from behind him. “You still think you can fight me, fox?”

The ghost loomed tall behind them, smiling like a fresh wound. “Did you think the world would save her?” he whispered. “Did you think that men in uniforms could protect her from me?”

Vincent spun around, slashing at the darkness with his claws as sparks flew through the air. But there was no one to hit—only shadows remained.

Then the ghost reappeared and stepped forward, smiling with his hands clasped behind his back as if this void was his throne room.

“Your battle is over,” the ghost whispered. “You lost the moment you chose her.”

Vincent growled, baring his teeth. “Give her back!”

The ghost tilted his head slightly. “Back? She was never yours in the first place.”

Vincent's chest rose and fell heavily as he spoke. “You took her from me again.”

The ghost cocked his head, feigning sympathy dripping from his tone. “No, fox. She walks willingly. That is a war you cannot win.”

Vincent’s breath came in sharp gasps, his claws dripping blood. He turned around, searching the void.

“Camela!” he called out, desperately.

The ghost’s laughter echoed through the alley. “You still don’t get it. This isn’t just a street or a city; it’s my world. This place belongs to me. Every wall, every stone, every voice she hears…all belong to me.”

The shadows twisted and morphed into doors, windows, and broken lanterns. The city silently rebuilt itself, but the faces peeking from the windows were empty, watching with hollow eyes.

Vincent roared in defiance. “Then I’ll destroy your world!”

The ghost's eyes glinted like blades. “If you do that, you'll only bury her deeper.”

Vincent charged forward, his claws gleaming gold. His strike split the ground, creating cracks that revealed red veins beneath the dark surface.

The ghost stepped aside effortlessly, remaining calm and unharmed. “You fight out of anger. But anger makes you predictable.”

“Better to be angry than chained,” Vincent growled, his voice echoing through the void. “I will break down every wall, every lie, and every hand you lay on her!”

The ghost let out a soft chuckle. “What if she no longer wants your touch?”

Vincent froze in shock as his heart raced. He forced the words out of his mouth, his voice shaky and rough. “She does want me! I saw it in her eyes.”

The ghost’s smile widened cruelly. “Let’s see if her eyes still tell that story.”

The void shook as a figure stepped forward from its center. Her dress was tattered, and her scar glowed faintly white on her chest. Her lips trembled as she spoke. “Vincent…”

A wave of relief washed over him as he staggered forward, reaching for her.

“Camela…” he said softly.

But she raised her hand, stopping him. "Don't come any closer," she whispered.

His claws froze in the air, and his breath caught in his throat. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Her voice trembled as she replied, "He’s everywhere…inside the house, the streets, the walls. Even in me."

The ghost leaned in close behind her, his mouth almost brushing her ear. "See, fox? She even understands. Safety has always been an illusion."

Camela's eyes brimmed with tears while she spoke. "I pleaded with the police. I pleaded with you. No one listens; no one ever listens."

Vincent's heart ached with sorrow and he said, "I'm listening now."

Her voice dropped to a whisper. "It's too late."

Suddenly, the void shattered around them.

They were no longer standing in darkness but amidst the ruins of the city. The buildings loomed half-eaten by shadows, and the streets were consumed with ink that writhed like snakes.

The ghost spread his arms wide open as if unveiling a grand work of art. "This is your new war, fox…a city where every street speaks my name, every door locks at my command, and every voice echoes me."

Vincent turned slowly, his golden eyes aflame with intensity. "You've played games long enough," he said.

The ghost spread his arms open again, his voice smooth as silk. "This is no game, fox; this is war…and war demands sacrifice."

The shadows surged around them, transforming into a battlefield. The alley stretched into endless streets filled with faceless soldiers, each one carrying a lantern that dripped with blood instead of light.

Vincent crouched low, his claws poised to strike, and responded, "Then I'll drain every one of your shadows dry."

The ghost smiled wider. "Good! At last, you speak my language."

The soldiers raised their lanterns high. The light illuminated Camela’s face in every moment—crying, pleading, her scar glowing brightly.

Vincent's heart surged with fury. He charged forward, ripping through the first line of soldiers. Lanterns shattered around him, and screams filled the air. But for every shadow he tore apart, two more appeared in its place.

Amidst the chaos, the ghost voice whispered, sounding calm yet cruel. “You can’t kill shadows. And you can’t silence her voice.”

Vincent dug his claws into the cracked stone and said, “Yet here you are…you show yourself. That was your mistake.”

The ghost chuckled softly. “Do you really think that killing me proves you won the war? No, fox. The war will be won when she chooses me over you.”

Camela wrapped her arms around herself, trembling as her scar glowed even brighter.

“Stop it…stop forcing me to…” she said firmly.

Vincent growled fiercely. “Don’t listen to him, Camela. Focus on me…just me.”

She lifted her gaze, her voice quivering. “Then say it again.”

He blinked in confusion as he asked, “Say what?”

Tears streamed down her face, cutting through the ash that coated it.

“My name…the one he keeps twisting. Say it until I believe it,” she replied.

The ghost smirked, circling them like a predator ready to pounce. “Yes, fox. Say it. Anchor her…or break her apart. Either way, I emerge victorious.”

Vincent moved closer, his claws shaking and his heart aching. His voice dropped low and intense. “Camela Castellano.”

Her breath hitched in surprise.

He stepped even closer, never breaking eye contact with her while he spoke. “You are not his shadow or his chains. You belong to me…my bride, my queen.”

Her knees buckled as tears flowed freely; the scar on her chest blazed with red battling against white.

The ghost's smile finally cracked. He hissed, "Do not…"

But Camela murmured, almost too quietly to hear, "Say it again."

Vincent's throat burned as he roared her name. "Camela Castellano!"

The city shook. The ink recoiled. The shadows shrieked like wounded beasts.

The ghost's facial expression darkened. "So be it. If she will not choose silence, then I will give her screams.”

The ruins transformed into an endless battlefield. Chains erupted from the ground. Doors lined the streets, all flinging open at once. From each doorway poured faceless figures wearing red gloves, chanting Camela’s name in eerie voices.

Camela gripped Vincent's arm, trembling. "He'll never stop," she whispered.

Vincent positioned himself protectively in front of her, his claws blazing gold. His voice was calm and firm. "Then neither will I."

The ghost's laughter rumbled like thunder. "This is war, fox. Not of blades, but of hearts…and I never lose."

Vincent crouched low, ready to fight, his gold eyes blazing with determination.

"Then you've never fought me," he said firmly.

The faceless army surged forward as the ground cracked open and chains lashed out like whips.

Vincent roared and charged into the first wave, ripping shadows apart as ink sprayed through the air like blood.

But for every figure he cut down, two more emerged from the doors. The chant grew louder and drowned everything out:

"Camela…Camela…Camela…"

She covered her ears and cried out, "Make it stop!"

Vincent fought harder and faster, but the voices only grew louder.

The ghost's whisper slithered behind them, sounding cruel and triumphant:

"You can’t silence me, fox. You can’t win this war because deep down…she knows she needs me."

Vincent paused for a moment, he gritted his teeth and his heart ached at his words.

Camela raised her tear-streaked face to look at him. “Vincent…is it really true?” she asked.

The battlefield trembled beneath them and the shadows surrounded them.