Hei Long opened his eyes.
The first thing he noticed was the sky—it was wrong. Too blue. Too soft. No swirling clouds of spiritual essence. No sword-shaped comets. Just… birds.
The second thing he noticed?
The ceiling.
Plain, white, clinical.
Modern.
He sat up slowly and found himself in a massive king-sized bed. Silk sheets. City skyline through glass walls. Neon reflections dancing across the marble floor.
This wasn't Redleaf Hollow.
This wasn't his world.
This was—
"Young Master Hei! You're awake!"
A voice broke through his thoughts.
A man in a black suit—clean-shaven, earpiece, sunglasses indoors—rushed into the room and bowed deeply.
"Your father has been waiting downstairs. The Zhang family is demanding an apology for yesterday's incident."
Hei Long blinked.
"…Who?"
"The Zhang family, sir. You broke their young heir's spine with a billiard cue and told his mother she looked like a shoe. Do you… not remember?"
Hei Long said nothing.
He stood up.
