Hana and Sato walked through the dark, empty streets, their footsteps the only sound in the still night. The weight of the Soul Ledger seemed heavier in Hana’s jacket now, a silent reminder of everything she’d lost—and everything she stood to lose.

"You sure about this plan?" Sato asked, his voice low, almost cautious. He glanced sideways at her, his eyes narrowing as if he could see the fear she was trying so hard to hide.

"Am I ever sure?" Hana shot back with a bitter smile. "Nothing’s certain, Sato. You know that."

"I know," he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. "But this... trying to take on the Reapers without the Ledger? Feels like we’re walking into a death trap."

Hana stopped, turning to face him. "Look, I’m not pretending this is going to be easy. But we don’t have a choice. It’s either this, or we sit around waiting for them to come and pick us off one by one. I’d rather go down fighting."

Sato’s gaze held hers for a long moment, the tension between them thick. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I get it. Just... don’t get yourself killed trying to prove something, alright?"

Hana smirked, though there was no humor in her eyes. "You worried about me, Sato?"

He gave her a look. "Maybe I just don’t want to deal with your ghost haunting me."

"Trust me, you wouldn’t be able to get rid of me that easy," Hana muttered, though her mind was already elsewhere. Her fingers traced the outline of the Ledger through her jacket, and she could almost feel its power pulsing beneath her skin. But she knew better than to rely on it now.

She couldn’t afford to make another mistake.

"So where to?" Sato asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"I know a guy," Hana replied, her tone shifting to business. "He used to work with some underground groups. Shady as hell, but he’s got connections everywhere. If anyone knows where the Reapers are hiding, it’s him."

"Let me guess," Sato said dryly. "He owes you a favor?"

Hana chuckled darkly. "Not quite. But he’s more afraid of me than he is of the Reapers, so there’s that."

"Comforting," Sato muttered under his breath.

They continued walking in silence, the cold air biting at their skin as they made their way deeper into the city. The lights of the streets flickered above them, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Hana’s mind raced with possibilities, each one more dangerous than the last.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, that they were walking straight into a trap. But there was no turning back now. The Reapers were out there, hunting her, and if she didn’t act soon, they’d come for her first.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

As they rounded a corner, a small, run-down bar came into view. The neon sign flickered weakly, casting an ominous glow over the entrance.

"This the place?" Sato asked, eyeing the building with a mix of skepticism and wariness.

"Yeah," Hana said, her tone sharper now. "Stay close. This guy’s not exactly the trusting type."

They pushed open the door and stepped inside, the dim lighting and smoke-filled air making it hard to see. A few scattered patrons sat at the bar, nursing their drinks in silence. No one paid them any attention.

Hana spotted him immediately—a middle-aged man sitting in the back corner, his face hidden beneath a hood. His fingers drummed against the table in a nervous rhythm, but his eyes were sharp, scanning the room like a predator waiting for its prey.

"That’s him," Hana whispered to Sato, nodding towards the man.

Sato frowned. "Looks jumpy. You sure he’s reliable?"

"As reliable as they come in this line of work," she muttered, making her way over to the table. Sato followed closely behind, his hand hovering near the gun tucked in his jacket.

The man looked up as they approached, his eyes narrowing when he saw Hana. "You," he hissed, his voice low and harsh. "I thought I told you not to come back here."

"And I thought you’d be dead by now, but here we are," Hana said, sliding into the seat across from him. "Got something to ask you."

"I don’t have anything for you," the man growled, his fingers still drumming nervously on the table. "I’m out of the game. You know that."

"Yeah, well, I’m not here for small talk, Cato," Hana snapped. "I need information. And I know you’ve got it."

Cato scowled, glancing around the bar like he expected someone to be watching. "You don’t know what you’re getting into, Hana. The Reapers... they’re not like anyone you’ve dealt with before."

"I’m not scared of them," Hana said coldly, leaning forward. "I need to know where they are. Who’s leading them."

Cato hesitated, his fingers still drumming against the table. "And what makes you think I’d help you? You put a target on my back just by walking in here."

"You don’t help me, you’ll have a lot more to worry about than the Reapers," Hana said, her voice dangerous. "You know what I’m capable of."

Cato’s eyes flicked to Sato, who stood silently behind Hana, his hand still near his gun. "Fine," he muttered, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "But this is the last time, Hana. After this, we’re done."

"Deal," Hana said, leaning back in her chair. "Now talk."

Cato took a deep breath, glancing around the bar once more before speaking. "The Reapers—they’re not just a gang. They’re a cult. They believe in some kind of twisted afterlife, and they think the Soul Ledger is the key to controlling it."

Hana’s blood ran cold. She had suspected something like this, but hearing it out loud made it all the more real.

"And their leader?" she asked, her voice tense.

Cato shook his head. "No one knows for sure. They call him ‘The Prophet.’ He’s the one who started all of this. But he’s a ghost—no one’s ever seen his face."

Hana clenched her fists. A ghost. Of course. "How do I find him?"

"You don’t," Cato said, his voice barely above a whisper. "He finds you. The Reapers—they’ve got eyes everywhere. If they think you’re a threat, they’ll come for you. And they don’t leave loose ends."

"Then I’ll make sure I’m not a loose end," Hana said, standing up abruptly. "Thanks for the info, Cato. You just bought yourself some time."

Cato watched her warily, his fingers still tapping nervously on the table. "Be careful, Hana. The Reapers... they’re not like anything you’ve faced before."

Hana didn’t respond as she turned and walked towards the door, Sato close behind. Her mind was racing, her heart pounding in her chest. The Prophet. A cult. The Reapers were more dangerous than she had imagined.

As they stepped outside into the cold night air, Sato broke the silence. "So what’s the plan now?"

Hana’s eyes were cold and hard. "We make them come to us."

Sato gave her a sidelong glance. "And how do we do that?"

Hana smirked, her confidence returning. "We give them what they want."

"And what’s that?"

"Me."