Midnight wrapped the lower wharves in thick, unmoving darkness. Clouds drifted lazily across the moon, dimming the river's silver spine. Perfect conditions for shadows that wished to remain unseen.
From the reeds behind Warehouse Three, Jin Yue watched the guards change positions. His breath was steady, controlled. The faintest hint of riverweed brushed his senses, masking everything else...including his own scent. Omegas drew unwanted attention; tonight, he could allow none.
A pale mask covered the upper half of his face...smooth, featureless, shaped like something neither human nor beast. The eye slits were narrow, reflecting only thin glimmers of moonlight. It hid his identity, his beauty, his nature. Behind it, no one would recognize him. Behind it, he could be anything.
Or nothing at all.
He touched his fishing rod once...his anchor, his constant. Nearby, his coil of fishing line glimmered like a thread of the moon itself.
Fishing or killing…
The rhythm was the same.
He exhaled.
Then he moved.
The crates stacked against the warehouse wall formed an unstable path, one that would crumble beneath a careless step. But Jin Yue was precise. Balanced. His weight spread lightly across shifting boards as he climbed, the mask protecting even his breath from escaping too loudly.
When he reached the rooftop, he crouched beneath the overhanging tiles. The lookout had abandoned his post, leaving behind a lazily tied rope dangling down the side.
Careless.
Jin Yue slipped beneath the tiles, gripping the support beam. The old wood sagged under pressure, but he distributed his weight without sound...just as he had learned balancing on old fishing piers that bent with every wave.
He crossed the beams, hood shadowing the edges of his mask.
Below him, Warehouse Three unfolded like a dim cavern. Lanterns flickered in patches of sickly yellow light. Crates lay open, rope coils scattered. Two guards spoke idly...one hunched over coins, the other dragging a whetstone across a dull blade.
In the far corner...
Movement.
Breathing.
Small, uneven.
The boys.
Jin Yue stilled completely. Even the thin fabric of his mask seemed to pause. Their shallow breaths reached him despite the height, threading through the stench of moldy grain and old rope.
They were alive.
For now.
He unwound his fishing line...thin, strong, nearly invisible. It caught the lantern light only faintly, like a strand of moonlight drifting through the air. A modified fisherman's knot slid into place between his fingers, practiced and lethal.
Timing mattered more than strength.
And the moment opened naturally.
Below, the first guard yawned...a long, careless stretch.
Jin Yue dropped.
He landed behind the yawning guard like a fallen petal.
Silent.
Weightless.
Unreal.
Before the guard inhaled again, a loop of fishing line snapped around his throat. His breath caught. Hands clawed uselessly at the tightening thread.
Jin Yue pulled him backward into the shadows between crates. The man's heels scraped once against the floor...then stilled.
The masked figure twisted his wrist.
A soft, wet choke.
A quiet collapse.
When he lowered the man, Jin Yue's mask reflected the dying lantern flame. No face. No mercy. No identity.
Only the Moon Ghost.
The knife-sharpening guard stiffened.
He sensed something… not danger exactly, but a shift in the warehouse's rhythm. The air felt thinner. A breath missing. A voice missing.
"Zhou?" he called. "You fall asleep?"
Jin Yue glided across the stacked crates, mask gleaming faintly.
The fishing line hummed between his fingers.
The guard approached warily, knife raised...
too slow.
Jin Yue flicked the line.
It wrapped around the man's wrist, jerking it sideways.
The knife clattered to the floor.
The guard sucked in a breath...
a single startled inhale...
before Jin Yue was behind him, the line re-looping smoothly across his throat.
The man tried to shout.
No sound came.
His hands flew up, clawing desperately at the thin thread digging into his skin, fingers trembling as he fought for air. He stumbled backward, but Jin Yue guided the motion, twisting his wrist with clean precision.
A soft tightening.
A sharp jerk.
The guard's body went rigid.
A choked sound...
half gasp, half plea...
escaped him, then dissolved into silence as his legs buckled.
Jin Yue lowered him gently, easing the collapse so the crates wouldn't rattle.
No blood.
No mess.
No struggle that lasted more than a breath.
Just another quiet, efficient kill.
Behind the mask, his expression did not change.
Only the Moon Ghost remained.
He slipped through the crates and reached the grain sack wall.
Three boys huddled inside. Bound. Unconscious but breathing. When he cut the rope, the knot resisted...three loops, twist under, cross back...
Jin Yue froze.
The island knot.
The same knot used by demon pirates years ago. The same knot used to bind him when he was young.
Memory stung like saltwater.
His grip on the rope tightened.
He severed it cleanly.
The eldest boy stirred first.
His eyelids fluttered, breaths shallow. When his gaze focused, he stiffened...seeing only a tall figure in a pale, expressionless mask.
For a heartbeat, raw fear flooded his face.
Jin Yue lowered himself to one knee, easing his posture so he would not tower over him. He spoke softly, voice low and smooth, careful to keep it steady behind the mask.
"You're safe now."
The boy froze.
Not because of fear...
but because the voice…
was gentle.
Unthreatening.
Almost quiet enough to belong to a dream.
The boy swallowed. "A-are you… the Moon Ghost?"
Jin Yue didn't answer with words. He reached out, checking the bindings around the boy's ankles, then lifted him slightly to see if he had injuries. His touch was firm but careful...not like a captor or guard, but like someone used to handling fragile things.
When he found a cut on the boy's arm, he tore a strip from his own sleeve...fast and clean...and wrapped it around the wound. The boy watched him in astonishment.
No ghost wrapped wounds.
"You won't die from this," Jin Yue murmured.
"It stings now, but it will stop soon."
The boy blinked rapidly, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.
"N-no one… no one else came…"
Jin Yue paused for a breath.
Others could have come.
Should have come.
But they didn't.
"They will now," he said. "You only need to stay awake until dawn."
The boy hesitated, then whispered, "Will… will you stay?"
Jin Yue shook his head.
"I cannot. But you will not be alone."
He placed the boy gently beside his younger brothers, rearranging the sacks beneath them so their heads were raised. The masked face drew close for only a moment ... too brief for recognition, yet close enough that the boy heard something he didn't expect:
A sigh.
Quiet, almost weary.
Not the sound of a monster.
Not a ghost.
But a man.
The boy reached out impulsively, small fingers clutching Jin Yue's wrist.
"Wait!"
Jin Yue stilled.
The boy's voice trembled.
"Are you… are you a bad person?"
Moonlight glinted across the mask, turning Jin Yue's silhouette into something both unreal and painfully human. His expression remained hidden, unreadable, but his voice…
…softened.
"Maybe," he murmured.
"But I do things bad men fear."
The boy stared up at him, the words carving themselves into a place he would never forget.
Jin Yue adjusted the torn sleeve-turned-bandage, making sure it held. Then he placed a steady hand on the boy's shoulder…light, reassuring, careful.
"Stay here," he said quietly.
"Don't move. Don't make a sound."
His tone wasn't harsh.
It was firm. Protective.
A promise wrapped in command.
"I'll deal with the last one," he added, barely louder than a whisper.
"I'll come back for you."
The boy nodded, small and trembling, trusting a ghost because no one else had come.