[187] : The Same Name?

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Rex hid in a dark alley, his heart pounding as he avoided looking back toward his sister, Luna.

He swore it wasn't intentional. After Luna refused to open the door for him, he angrily flicked his lit cigarette onto the ground.

Who could've predicted the cigarette would ignite some nearby uncollected trash? And from there, it spread to the clutter stored in the hallway.

When Rex realized there was a fire, he didn't try to put it out. Instead, he immediately fled the building and hid far away in this alley.

At that moment, Rex was terrified. Afraid of getting burned, he didn't think twice about escaping, which cost him the critical moment to extinguish the fire.

"It's not my fault... It's really not my fault. It's their fault... Yes, their fault for leaving so much junk in the hallway. Not mine..."

Squatting on the ground, Rex clutched his head, muttering to himself in despair.

He knew the fire was out of control now. If anyone were to die because of it, his life would be over.

Though, in truth, Rex's life had already gone downhill ever since he got addicted to drugs. Still, he didn't want to bear the guilt of taking a life.

"It seems cowards always find the same excuses for themselves," came a man's voice from the alley entrance, interrupting Rex's thoughts.

Rex looked up. Under the dim glow of a streetlight, Roger's figure stood at the alley's entrance, like a Terminator walking out of a movie. His cold gaze was fixed on the "arsonist" before him.

For reasons he couldn't explain, Rex, who was usually aggressive toward anyone, turned and ran without thinking the moment he saw Roger.

It was like an animal encountering its natural predator, or a weaker beast meeting an apex predator. Roger's presence instinctively filled Rex with fear.

Rex ran as fast as he could. He swore he'd never run this fast in his life.

Driven by a primal survival instinct, he unleashed every ounce of potential in his body, sprinting desperately to lose Roger, who was chasing him.

But when he glanced back after running for a while, he saw Roger floating just a short distance behind him—literally floating.

"G-ghost! It's a ghost!" Rex screamed in terror.

That brief moment of distraction caused him to step on an empty soda can, slip, and fall backward, hitting the ground with the back of his head.

Bang!

The fall was brutal. Roger even noticed blood on the back of Rex's head as he tried to get up, staggering from what seemed to be a concussion.

Using his x-ray vision, Roger confirmed there was no internal bleeding in Rex's brain. Without hesitation, he grabbed Rex by the collar, slung him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and said, "Looks like you're not just into gambling—you're into drugs too. Calling me a ghost just because you're high? Wait till the cops get their hands on you."

"..."

Still dazed, Rex couldn't respond.

He didn't even deny Roger's accusation about drugs.

Deep down, Rex screamed that he wasn't hallucinating—he had really seen Roger floating toward him.

But unfortunately, there were no surveillance cameras or witnesses in the area. Even if Rex insisted he had seen it, there'd be no one to corroborate his story.

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