Tyler narrowed his eyes at the figure, suspicion in his gaze. "So… first thing's first," he began, his tone steady but cautious. "Why are you even here? Could this really just be some… coincidence?"
The man shrugged, glancing at the lifeless body slumped in the alley. "It's… complicated. But hey, be grateful that this so-called 'coincidence' led to me saving you. And the man pulling the strings—he's dead now."
Tyler nodded slowly, not fully convinced. "I guess… And what should I call you?"
"Phantom," the man replied in an even tone. He reached into his coat and withdrew a compact, seemingly microscopic bag. With a few quick movements, he inflated it into a full-size body bag, durable enough to carry the weight.
"Phantom? Right… but what about your actual name?"
"I don't have an actual name..." Phantom replied, his voice flat and final.
Tyler blinked, taken aback. "No name?"
But Phantom didn't elaborate. He busied himself packing the body, arranging it with practiced efficiency. Just as he was about to zip the bag closed, a muffled ringing came from the dead man's pocket. Phantom's hand froze. He glanced at Tyler, then fished the phone out, his face impassive as he answered. He said nothing, letting the caller speak first.
A tense silence filled the alley.
"Where the hell are you?" demanded a voice on the other end, thick with frustration.
Phantom's eyes narrowed as he quickly adjusted his stance. After a brief pause, he replied, voice slightly wavering, "G-Got him…"
Tyler and Phantom listened intently, but the caller only hesitated before hanging up.
"Damn," Phantom muttered under his breath, shoving the phone back into the bag.
"It was the same voice…" Tyler said, his eyes widening.
"The same voice?" Phantom echoed.
"Yeah. The same distorted voice that called me."
Phantom's face darkened, his gaze flicking back to the body. "So… there's more to this than we thought. This guy was just a puppet."
Tyler scoffed, shaking his head. "If you'd kept your cool, we might've learned more. The stutter was a dead giveaway."
"No," Phantom replied sharply. "It was convincing. This guy was… mentally unstable, let's say. It's more likely they recognized the difference in tone—or maybe there's a code I missed. Either way, they knew."
"How do you even know that?" Tyler asked, still skeptical.
Phantom zipped the bag, hoisting it up with ease. "Let's get out of here first," he said briskly. He glanced at his watch, his eyes flicking to the alley's exit. "In thirty seconds, we'll turn left, sprint three blocks, and take the third right. We'll be out of sight."
Tyler looked at him, incredulous. "You planned this out?"
"Of course."
"But… you didn't know I'd show up. Wasn't this supposed to be a quick job?"
"You never know," Phantom replied with a slight smile. "So you prepare for everything."
"Right…" Tyler trailed off, feeling a strange mixture of awe and mistrust.
Thirty seconds later, they sprinted left and found the third right turn, slipping into a deserted side street. Tyler's mind raced, but something—intuition, maybe—told him that, for now, he could trust this enigmatic man named Phantom.