Noah's blood turned cold; it seemed that ghost hunters weren't just jokes in this world. He went fully intangible and fell through the earth for at least ten seconds.
Then he went tangible, and the earth shot him up like a cannonball, but he angled his body so he would fly away from the park. The wind rushed between his black flames, and he had the urge to yell as he soared over the city.
The bright lights of apartment windows and red beams of cars cutting through the streets illuminated the world.
And he was about to crash into one of those streets.
At the last second, just when details in the tarmac became clear, he went intangible.
The next moment he returned to his solid state and was spat out of the earth, spinning midair to land perfectly on his feet.
"That was a very fun and useful night, but now, I need to get back home."
He didn't know what the demon hunter girl was capable of; if she could trap him, it was a good idea to escape before she could. Being a ghost definitely made it a lot easier to get away.
If he was a werewolf or something, he'd have to fight there. Well, he might be more powerful, so it could be a decent tradeoff.
But being a ghost made it easier for him to stalk the Ironfield mob without revealing his identity.
He could even go back to the park later and figure out where the ghost girl's body was buried. But that would be after he cleared up school, which he was now remembering he had a presentation to give tomorrow morning in front of the entire freshman class.
He ran back home and climbed through his window. His body was there, dead as usual. Hopefully it won't be tired tomorrow too.
For a second, he sat on the edge of the bed, looking through the dark room.
Then he remembered that this world's Noah hadn't prepared for tomorrow's speech at all. He had even been planning to just skip the ceremony as he would be recovering from the drugs he took.
Noah groaned and got off the bed, grabbing the laptop on the desk and walking into the toilet. Once the door closed, he turned on the light and got to work preparing something.
One of the advantages of not having to sleep at night.
○——○
Once it hit 6 a.m. on the clock, Noah left the bathroom and repossessed his body, dragging the tired flesh from his bed and into the toilet.
The body seemed to have gotten some sleep last night, but repossessing the body made his hunger grow. He groaned and leaned against the bathroom door.
"What am I hungry for?"
After a warm bath, he pulled on some of his clothes with a fury that only a starving man could manage. A ripping sound dragged him from his unconscious actions.
He looked down at his shirt and found a rip in the armpit. He narrowed his eyes but thought nothing of it and tried the other clothes in his wardrobe. But strangely enough, they were all too small.
The only clothes he could wear were the ones that had been too long and baggy for him to consider before. But now they fit pretty well.
"Guess my ghost form has other benefits besides increasing my strength."
His next objective was trying to act normal. He looked at himself in the mirror and attempted to make a decent smile and replicate the expressions that Noah in this world had before he took over.
But it was mostly just to waste time. He was nervous for the first time in years. It wasn't like walking into a gunfight or being tortured.
No, he was going to have dinner with his family.
He walked out of the toilet and tried to walk out of the room immediately, but his hand hovered over the door handle, just looking at it for a while.
It's nothing, just relax. I'll see them again, it'll be nice.
When he was finally about to open it, the door was pushed open, hitting him in the face, making him stumble and fall over.
"Ohhh, sorry, Noah, were you just about to come downstairs?" his mother, Cara, asked, peeking through the door.
Her black hair fell over her purple blouse in curls, a careless smile on her lips. Noah swallowed like it was a horror movie.
"Yeah, I'll be down in a sec. I was just finishing up my presentation."
"Ohhh, a sec," Cara repeated with a teasing voice. "Well, I got a tape of the Ghostcrackers, and I wondered if you wanted to see it together. You know, like…"
Noah stared for a moment, then he smiled.
"Like old times. Sure, I'd be honoured."
"You'd be honoured," she repeated in a mock voice. "Ha, who are you?" She closed the door, shouting as she went downstairs. "We're waiting for you!"
His mother was a bit sillier than he remembered, but he only knew them during the hard times in his past life, where Paul lost his job when Noah was three. The fact that they enjoyed peace in this life probably made her freer.
He needed to protect that freedom, no matter how many people he had to exterminate from this world.
With a single breath, he pushed himself to his feet and walked into the hallway. He saw Fara, his little sister, on the way and nodded silently to her, but she just stood there staring.
What the hell?
He thought in passing as he made his way downstairs. The kitchen was down the hall, the living room and a guest room at the other.
Paul is doing really well in the world. Look at that TV and the chandelier. If I robbed this place, I could—
He slapped himself and entered the kitchen without looking up. If he did, he would have caught how his parents stared at him.
Cara's bacon was burning on the pan, and Paul had poured way too much syrup over his pancakes.
Noah lifted the syrup bottle before taking his seat. Then he raised his head and took in the kitchen. The sleek white walls and huge metal stove and kitchen area looked clean, modern.
But the colorful dinner table and the scattered plethora of colorful knives, pictures, and pots made the place brighter.
He finally also noticed how Paul and Cara were staring at him. He had already resolved to protect them and live, but now he was getting nervous again. He cleared his throat and spoke.
"Is there soap in my ear?"
Paul blinked twice, brushing back his smoothly styled brown hair and nervously adjusting his glasses too much, like he couldn't believe his eyes.
"You grew a bit taller, son?"
"A bit taller?" Cara asked from the kitchen island. "He's taller than both of us by far. Did you cheat on me with the mailman?"
"Cara, don't blaspheme me in front of my son," Paul sighed.
"Blaspheme," Cara mocked in return. "That's what I meant when I said he started speaking to me all formal-like. I guess he's still your kid. Sniff, maybe not mine."
Paul rolled his eyes, and Fara joined them in the kitchen, grabbing some milk from the fridge before she went to the table.
"I thought I was the only one that noticed it," Fara added. "He was hunched over when we spoke last night. I thought my memory was tricking me."
"Can you hand me the pancakes?" Noah asked simply, rubbing his temples.
"Do you want coffee with that, sir?" Fara mocked. "Why are you talking like that? What happened to just pointing at something till I got it for you?"
Cara brought him some tea and bacon, smiling brightly.
"Ohh, what does it matter? See how handsome my boy looks. He's still too pale, but you seem a lot stronger too. You have to stop avoiding me; I didn't notice how much you'd changed."
"Honey, we talked about this," Paul droned, reading something on his phone. "He's at the age of feeling boxed in by his parents and—"
Cara rolled her eyes, kissing Paul on the forehead before returning to the kitchen area. Noah's mind was stuck on school. It might be easier than here; this was the first day of the new semester at college.
They wouldn't notice the change since he didn't have any friends his freshman year.
Hopefully.