The wind swept down from the mountains, ruffling Jin's coat as he stood on the edge of the village road. The morning mist curled around his feet like a farewell embrace. Behind him, the quiet village that had once been his cage now felt like a closed book. He didn't look back. There was no reason to. Not anymore.
Jin Park was reborn.
He adjusted the strap of his duffel bag, filled with only a few belongings. Money wasn't an issue. The lab's hidden vault, which he had found after spending days underground studying files and systems, had enough clean digital currency to support him for years. Everything had been prepared for the rich man who never got to live this new life.
Now it belonged to him.
The bus arrived with a long wheeze of its brakes. Jin stepped aboard. The driver, an older man with tired eyes, gave him a quick glance.
"First time leaving?"
Jin nodded politely. "Yeah."
He paid in cash and took a seat near the back. As the bus pulled away, the village disappeared into the fog. He closed his eyes, not to sleep, but to recall.
The past few weeks had been intense. After the explosion killed the scientists and destroyed part of the lab, Jin had spent long days underground. He had no scientific background, but the systems were intuitive. The body-pod interface, the AI voice assistant, the documentation on brain-to-core consciousness transfers—everything had been designed to be understood easily.
The perfect body had been grown in a synthetic womb and enhanced in ways humans could only imagine. Bone density, muscle mass, cellular regeneration, memory capacity, reflex speeds—all off the charts. The AI had scanned Jin's consciousness and, after confirmation, transferred him into the vessel.
He had chosen the appearance of Daniel Park—his favorite manhwa character. Youthful, attractive, strong, adaptable.
And most importantly, unknown to the world.
There was a sleek black phone in his pocket now—a device that allowed him to alter his appearance, access all his abilities, manage finances, and even contact the dormant AI for assistance.
He wasn't just reborn.
He was upgraded.
The city came into view hours later, glittering in the distance like a promise. Seoul.
As the bus approached the urban sprawl, Jin watched everything through the window. People, cars, noise, billboards, movement—this was the real world. The world he had only seen in screens and pages.
He felt no anxiety.
Only purpose.
He stepped off at a central station and walked through the crowd. The city smelled of ambition, sweat, and the thrill of a hundred million lives trying to mean something.
He stopped at a clothing store. He had already studied fashion trends, grooming, and style. With a clean-cut Korean look, casual black jacket, designer jeans, and white sneakers, he stepped out looking like a K-drama lead.
He turned heads instantly. Girls stared. Some whispered.
He was used to being invisible. This was new. But he didn't smile.
He walked like someone with somewhere to be.
In the evening, he checked into a luxury apartment—paid in full for six months. He didn't want to waste time on cheap beginnings. From the 18th floor, he looked down at the glowing city and thought only one thing:
Where do I begin?
There were too many choices. Business? Music? Acting? Sports? Medicine? Tech?
He could master them all. But first—he needed to enter one world and make a name.
He chose modeling. It was fast. Visual. Easy to break into with the right face. And he had the perfect one. It would get him noticed.
He sat down with the black phone and opened the AI interface.
"Prepare a portfolio. Include images, stats, and applications."
The phone glowed. "Understood."
The next morning, ten agencies had received perfect modeling applications.
By afternoon, five had replied.
By evening, three had offered to meet him the next day.
Jin Park had taken his first step into the world.
And though he was kind and calm to everyone he met—polite, gentle, and respectful—there was something beneath his smile.
A warning.
He would never hurt the innocent. But if anyone tried to cheat him, use him, threaten him, or touch what he claimed as his own—
He wouldn't hesitate.
Not even for a second.
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