Chapter 5: Ghostcode detected
The streets were teeming with people—busier than usual for this time of day. Kids darted after a stray street cat, giggling, while their flustered mother chased after them, yelling for them to come back.
An old lady stood at the edge of the road, hesitating to cross the heavy traffic. Vendors shouted over each other, trying to sell their wares. A little boy stared longingly through the glass at a flashy robot toy.
Adam ducked beneath a low-hanging awning, weaving past a man who looked to be in his forties—and swiping his wallet like it was second nature.
In the middle of all the chaos, Adam was just trying to keep his head on straight. The voices in his head wouldn't shut up. Echoes. Whispers. Like static crawling through his brain.
He could barely concentrate.
Up ahead, a small crowd had gathered around a fish vendor. Curious, he edged closer, wondering what had everyone's attention.
> "They did it again. That's another one stopped."
"Those Hunters are incredible."
"I hate those filthy monsters."
Everyone's eyes were locked on the small TV mounted to the vendor's wall. The news was playing, footage from what looked like a recent ghost attack.
> "Our brave heroes have once again saved us from disaster," the reporter declared. "An elderly shopkeeper was attacked by malevolent ghosts earlier today, but thanks to the swift response of the Ghost Hunters, the spirits were vanquished and the shopkeeper is safe. To the Hunters, we say a big thank you."
Adam's eyes stayed fixed on the screen. Ghost Hunters—respected, feared, glorified. They were society's protectors, wielding powers most people couldn't dream of.
Not everyone could see ghosts. These entities weren't visible to the average person. But that didn't make them any less dangerous. They struck without warning, tearing through homes, people, anything. And worst of all—normal weapons didn't work on them. Knives, guns, fists... all useless. Ghosts phased right through.
They fed off fear, anxiety, and every awful emotion humans bottled up. And they barely had any weaknesses.
Only rare individuals could manifest spiritual abilities—a supernatural energy that allowed them to see and fight ghosts. Those who awakened this power were eligible to take the Hunter's exam. If they passed, they got into the prestigious Hunter Academy, where they trained to become elite protectors.
> "Man, I wish I was a Hunter," a chubby man near Adam said, watching the footage in awe. "Did you see how he manhandled that spirit? Dude's a beast."
> "Bro, you'd be dead five seconds into a mission," his skinny friend laughed. "You can't even handle your wife."
Adam smirked. The man's phone was sticking slightly out of his back pocket. Tempting.
He stepped up beside them, feigning interest in the news. "You seriously think this guy could beat a ghost? He can barely beat a salad."
The skinny man burst into laughter, nearly doubling over. The chubby guy's face twisted with irritation.
He stomped toward Adam, towering over him.
> "You got a death wish, little man?"
Adam gulped. This guy was big. Like, really big. A wall of flab and muscle. Regret trickled in.
"Look, I apologize. My bad. You look fantastic. Definitely ghost-hunter material. I'll just be on my way."
He turned, hands in his jacket pockets, whistling as he walked away.
> "Wait… where's my phone?" the man muttered, patting his pockets.
> "It was there just a second ago!" his friend said, alarmed.
His eyes widened as realisation dawned on him
> "That kid… when did he—?!"
Adam took off running before they finished the sentence, slipping into the crowd with practiced ease.
---
Elsewhere...
Two men stood in the shadows of a narrow alley, staring down at an empty briefcase lying on the ground.
"Shit. It's not here," John muttered, crouching beside it. He was a muscular, dark-skinned man in sleek black shades. "The boy must've taken it out."
Ray pulled out a slim, smart phone-like device with glowing etchings that pulsed faintly along its frame. The screen flickered to life, displaying spectral data and strange glyphs.
"He couldn't have gone far. We'll find him," said his partner, Ray—a tall, light-skinned man with sharp features and a cigarette dangling from his lips.
"Probably planning to sell it," John added, scanning the case for fingerprints.
"Seriously? Who finds a cursed apple and thinks, 'yeah, let's sell it'?" Ray scoffed. "Worst case, he ate it. And now he's either dead… or it bonded with him."
"Bonded?" John raised a brow. "We've tested dozens of candidates. No success. Why would some lousy street rat be the one it chose?"
Ray shrugged. "The other one had potential too. But what if this one... worked?"
John was quiet for a beat.
"Boss won't like this."
---
Back with Adam...
> "What the hell is happening to me?" Adam thought, breathing heavy with his back against a wall. "My body feels... different."
Since eating that cursed apple, everything had changed. His physique felt leaner. He was faster. His senses were sharper. He could hear the flapping wings of a bird overhead, feel the subtle change in temperature as he passed between buildings, and spot a rat crawling in the gutter half a block away.
Maybe eating that thing wasn't entirely a mistake—aside from the whole agonizing pain part.
He still heard voices every now and then. Whispers—sometimes laughter—like something was inside him.
He thought back to the system message from earlier.
''they'll be coming for me'' he muttered. Maybe going out on the streets all the time isn't such a good idea anymore.
He glanced down at the phone he'd swiped. It wasn't fancy, but it'd probably get him a warm meal or two. Maybe even a drink.
Then something caught his eye.
Across the street. A familiar alley.
The same alley where he'd left the briefcase.
Two men in black suits were standing there.
He squinted, eyes narrowing. They were holding a strange scanner, analyzing the briefcase's handle with intense focus.
'Weird. What are those two up to' He thought
Reaching into his jacket, Adam pulled out a mask. It was sleek black, with sharp, jagged white teeth curling into a monstrous grin. It covered the lower half of his face, giving him a ghostly, almost demonic look.
He slipped it on. Not for disguise—he just felt braver behind it.
Then he crept forward, ducking behind a dumpster piled high with trash bags. He listened.
Ray dug through the trash bags near the empty briefcase, his hand suddenly pausing. "John… over here."
John turned, raising an eyebrow. Ray lifted something from the corner of the dumpster — a half-rotten apple, shriveled and pale. The vibrant color it once held was completely gone, replaced by a dull, sickly gray. It looked like it had been drained of life.
"Is that—?" John asked, stepping closer.
"No doubt about it." Ray turned the apple over in his hand, the scanner in his other palm beginning to buzz slightly. "He ate it."
John cursed under his breath. "The damn brat bonded with it. No wonder the container was empty."
"That confirms it, then. We're not retrieving it anymore…" Ray flicked the scanner into his palm and activated a glowing blue disk. "We're hunting him."
> "So how do you propose we find him?" Ray asked, hands in his pockets.
> "I couldn't get any prints," John replied. "But I scanned the apple's energy signature. Although feint, We can track it."
> "Crap." Adam's eyes widened. "It really was important. Now they're after me? Fantastic."
> "Wait,I'm picking up a reading," John said, adjusting the scanner. The device buzzed and pulsed like a radar, projecting a small blue hologram. It beeped faster and faster as it turned toward the dumpster.
Adam's stomach dropped.
> "It's pointing over there... but..." John squinted.
Then, one of the trash bags slipped off the top of the pile—just enough to reveal a pair of wide, startled eyes behind the dumpster.
> "There!" John shouted, pointing.
''Crap...''Adam cursed