Novel & Cerita Ninjago Cole Ghost

"Yieeeeee yeah you don’t like him because he’s arrogant, he’s muscular, he has a pointed nose, he’s tall, and his lips looked so sweet. Yes Alaister you don't like him!" and with that she threw me a pillow Hahahaha. We talked about music and other kinds of stuff until Aunt Ana came with our food so we ate first. "Alaister do you believe in ghosts?" I asked Alaister, now that she was lying down in our bed. "Did you watch a horror movie last night? Then I would say that there are no ghosts and I do not believe in ghosts." Wow! It doesn't seem like she can see ghosts hmm. Yes she can see ghosts but she doesn’t want to tell to other people about that.

He glanced over his shoulder at Ghost bent over the desk. The rules were different with Ghost. Marco wondered at times if the guy had been designed, down to his average-Joe looks. It was easy to look at him and see a regular dude. But Ghost wasn't normal. He bled, he pissed, and he ate like a man, but something about him wasn't right. "You got me?" Ghost said. "Loud and clear. We'll be gone in an hour." Marco let himself out of the apartment, locked the door, and drew his first easy breath.

Ghost warned. He stood in front of the tiger, preventing it from getting closer to Ciara. It was starting to look like he was paid to protect Ciara. “Are you falling for her? Because I know you too well,” Tiger accused the ghost of sabotaging the mission. “Holy moly,” Ghost exclaimed in shock. That was the most bizarre thing he had heard in a long time. “How could you even come up with such a thing?” He went further to defend himself without actually debunking the claim.

"Elle, you need to see this.” Ghost calls out. I push the knife a little harder into the Collector’s shoulder before jumping to my feet. I give him one last look before turning my back on him. His fingers have stopped twitching; even if I take the knife out, the damage is most likely permanent, and he’s no threat to me anymore. I see Ghost has walked behind the counter; he has a computer in front of him and the glow of the screen is lighting him up, making him look like some kind of otherworldly ghost. I kind of get the name but it seems more like a punishment to me, like his parents judged him on how he looked when he was born and decided to brand him with the name forever.

His fingers worked swiftly, and the fire of birth, a golden-blue energy, flowed down his fingers, enveloping the scythe and seeping into its metallic seams. The next moment, the scythe shattered into a flurry of flying parts. Clack, clack, clack... Never had Logo moved so swiftly. Under the threat of death, his adrenaline surged, and the fire of birth came alive. In just 0.6 seconds, the "Ghost Needle" was assembled. At this moment, Jesta's second attack came. The distance between them had shrunk to three or four meters, their gazes locking in the air, and they could clearly read each other's eyes and expressions.

"Look what crawled out of the drain." Three men stepped into the light. They wore oversized hoodies and tactical vests scavenged from the raid. In the center stood Ghost. He was thinner than I remembered. A jagged scar ran from his ear to his jaw—a gift from the last turf war I’d led before I disappeared. "Ghost," I said. I didn't lower the pipe. "Don't 'Ghost' me, you golden-eyed prick." He spat a glob of phlegm onto the concrete. He raised a heavy-duty revolver. "Except your eyes aren't gold anymore, are they? You look... ordinary. Like the rest of us rats."

"001 has initiated the 'Global Purge'. She’s going to turn everyone into a 'Dormant' by morning." Jago looked at the blue glow of my necklace, then at the "Void-Wolf" standing at my side. He didn't look greedy anymore. He looked like a man who had seen the bottom of the abyss and realized there was no money there. "The Scrappers are ready to fight, Princess. But we can't fight ghosts in the machine. We need a physical target."

"Wait. I need to know. Why did, uhm, whatever, carelessly pick me?" "Go back." The woman wasn't paying her any attention. She kept on plucking cowries and attaching them to her head. "What is he? Oh, don't answer that one. He's a ghost. I know that. Why is he in that state? No, no, why can I see him? Why can l feel his touch, ghosts can't do that, can they? What does he need me for?" The old woman stopped her scaly hands from further movements and stared directly at Geneva through her foggy eyes that obviously saw clearly.

Marcus, the quiet guy from accounting leaned against the door, arms crossed, with a bitter smirk twisting his lips. “McAllen,” he said. “You’ve been looking real happy lately. I see you enjoy your late night with the boss.” My stomach dropped. “What the hell are you talking about?” He stepped closer, I could see the jealousy in his eyes. “ I saw you leaving the private elevator. Looking like a man whose ass has taken some cock. You’re not the first, you know. The Ghost destroys anyone who tries to get close. You’re just the latest toy.” “The Ghost?” I laughed it off, but my voice sounded shaky even to me. “Sounds like some movie legend bullshit.”

“Yes,” Jimin nodded, his eyes fixed on Ghost. “If you know what’s good for you, do not cross my path in the Black Wolf Pack. You won’t live to tell anyone the story.” “The same applies to you,” Ghost smiled and brought out a knife from his pocket. He slashed across his flesh with force and he twisted his hand as the black blood dropped on the floor of the cave. Calisté snapped her fingers and a bowl appeared under his arm. Within a minute, the bowl was already half full with his blood and she took it again from underneath his arm.