Ghost Commerce Novels & Stories

"They want to build a new 'Light-Grid.' They say it's more efficient, more 'green.' They’ve forgotten what it feels like to have your soul deleted by a glitch." ​ ​We arrived in Manhattan three days later. The city had a strange, fractured beauty. The Thorne Tower remained a dark, glass needle a monument to the "Black Ledger" era but the streets below were bustling with a new kind of commerce. There were "Scriptoriums" on every corner, places where people went to have their daily transactions witnessed and stamped by bonded printers. ​The Vance & Daughter shop had been transformed. The boarded-up windows were gone, replaced by reinforced glass that allowed passersby to see the massive Heidel

He spotted me and tried to hide, but I barely glanced in his direction. Months later, he scraped together some funds, sold the family home, and opened a tiny transport company. Pride had blinded him—he thought a small business meant success. He boasted endlessly about his past while negotiating deals. The result? Three months in, not a single client. The company collapsed again, and he squandered every last penny. After this defeat, Alistair became a drunkard. Lisa tried to divorce him but was beaten into staying and providing for the household. She had to work while heavily pregnant, eventually giving birth prematurely to a severely deformed child. The child didn't survive long.

The Evergreen Capital Group was quite impressive, but it was only because of their money. The Newgate Chamber of Commerce, however, was different. To put it bluntly, they were gangsters of the underworld living in the gray area after getting whitewashed. There would still be a way out after going against the Evergreen Capital Group… But it was a completely different story if anyone were to disrespect the Newgate Chamber of Commerce. At that moment, everyone badly wanted to slap Harvey in the face. ‘How do you not know that this place belongs to the Newgate Chamber of Commerce?’

He inquired, "Why the immediate trip to Ghosthorn?" She replied flatly, "To settle a score with someone." Her answer gave him the chills. He wondered, "Who's the unlucky person who's offended the boss?" Ghosthorn, Marvonia's underworld, ran the largest underground trading operations in the country. The transactions and dealings there covered a wide range of activities. As long as the price was right, many would fight to execute the job. In Ghosthorn, money mattered more than lives.

MARCO SLAMMED THE DOOR shut to Ghost's one-room rental. It wasn't the same one as before. It was across town in another walk-up over a different store. At least this one didn't smell of grease, and it had two single beds. As a bonus they had a hot plate and a tiny sink, in addition to a bathroom down the hall. So long as they paid in cash, no one asked questions. "No luck?" Ghost didn't turn from the mountain of monitors.

"I've heard that you've been doing live commerce sales recently, Ms. Graham. How effective has it been?" Right then, a surprisingly familiar voice spoke up. It was Dexter. He was lazily leaning back in the armchair, his body slightly reclined. His gaze was intense as he stared straight at Angela, exuding an undeniable sense of pressure. "It's showing some early results," Angela replied calmly. "Hasn't Bamford Co. hired celebrity hosts to do the same thing? You should understand the advantages of live commerce sales better than I do, Mr. Bamford."