The masked figure was gone.
Jin Yue stood at the edge of fractured stone, lightning hissing through the void below, eyes scanning the unstable towers for any lingering trace. The rotating bridge that had collapsed in the figure's wake finished disintegrating into sparks and falling debris. No teleportation flare. No seal fracture.
Gone by movement alone.
His gaze lowered slightly.
Something had torn loose from the masked man's cloak during that final leap...caught briefly on a jagged shard of conductive stone before drifting down.
Jin Yue stepped forward and caught it mid-fall.
A scrap of dark fabric.
On it, etched in faded thread...
A symbol.
Not crescent.
Not tournament script.
A jagged insignia shaped like a broken wave with a blade through its center.
His pulse stilled.
Demon Pirates.
The memory surfaced unbidden: black sails against storm sky, salt wind thick with smoke, a flag tearing in lightning.
Was it coincidence?
Or did someone from that island know him?
