The whirring of an old electric fan filled the small, humid room.
John Smith gasped for air as his eyes shot open. His chest ached, and his mind raced. The last memory burned into his brain was the sound of a gunshot echoing through a rally in Quezon City. He remembered gripping the podium, collapsing under the weight of pain, and the panicked screams of the crowd. Then, darkness.
But now… he was staring at a cracked ceiling he hadn't seen in decades.
John sat up, his breathing sharp and uneven. The walls were bare except for a Nirvana poster taped crookedly above the desk. On the side table lay a bulky pager and a battered Walkman. His eyes narrowed, confusion mixing with dread.
He stumbled to the desk and yanked open the drawer. Inside was a calendar—January 1995. His hands shook.
"No… this can't be."
He turned toward the small TV in the corner. Static gave way to a morning broadcast:
"President Estrano continues to prepare his bid for next year's elections, while the administration of President Ramos pushes new reforms to modernize the economy…"
John's entire body froze. Estrano. Ramos. Names that mirrored real figures from his country's turbulent political past, disguised but unmistakable.
"1995…" he whispered. His reflection in the TV screen stared back at him, not the graying lawyer he remembered, but a lean-faced boy of eighteen. His hair was black and thick again, his skin free of wrinkles, his body young and restless.
He touched his face in disbelief. "I… I'm eighteen again."
For a long moment, John sat motionless. The truth pressed down on him like a storm. He remembered the years of fighting corrupt officials in the courts, gathering evidence, watching the system twist and bend to protect the powerful. He remembered his assassination silenced before he could reveal his findings to the nation.
And yet, here he was, decades younger, before it all began.
At first came the fear. Then came the clarity.
"If this is real… then I know what's coming. The internet revolution. The Asian Financial Crisis of 1997. The political scandals, the rise and fall of dynasties… all of it."
He paced the room, adrenaline surging. "I don't have to fight them with empty words this time. I can prepare. I can build wealth. I can build influence. And when the time comes… I won't be the powerless lawyer they crushed. I'll be the storm they can't contain."
The door creaked open. His grandmother, Lola Maria, stepped inside with her usual morning tray of coffee and bread. Her presence nearly broke him. She had died long before his assassination yet here she was again, alive.
"Juanito," she said warmly, using his childhood name. "Up so early? You must be excited for college, hmm?"
John forced a smile, hiding the tempest inside. "Yes, Lola. Very excited."
As she set the tray down, he noticed her weary hands, calloused from years of hard work at the local market. A pang of guilt stabbed him. He remembered how little she had enjoyed in her later years, how she had passed away before seeing him succeed.
This time, he swore silently, things would be different.
That afternoon, John walked through their narrow neighborhood streets. Vendors pushed carts of fish balls and roasted peanuts. Jeepneys painted in bright colors rattled past, belching smoke. Teenagers huddled in arcades, playing Tekken on coin-operated machines.
But while everyone else saw the ordinary chaos of Manila, John saw something else: opportunity.
He remembered the future clearly how the world would change in a matter of years. In America, a company called Netscape had just gone public. Within a decade, the internet would reshape everything. Cellphones, once rare and expensive, would flood the country. Real estate would boom after the Asian financial crash. And politicians, blinded by greed, would make the same corrupt deals, again and again.
John clenched his fists. "This time, I'll be ready. I won't just watch history happen I'll use it."
That night, he sat at his desk, scribbling furiously on yellow paper.
"1997: Asian financial crisis peso collapses. Buy dollars, wait for rebound.
1999: Mobile phone boom invest in telecom stocks.
2001: Arroya presidency foreign deals increase.
2004 onward: real estate surge Ortigas, Makati, Taguig.
2008: Global crash opportunity for massive buys."
Each note was a stepping stone, each prediction a weapon.
John leaned back, staring at the list. His young reflection looked back at him from the window, eyes burning with determination.
He whispered to himself, "This time, I'm not just going to fight corruption with words. I'll have the money. The power. The influence. Enough to protect the people they betray and to bring the system crashing down on their heads."
His lips curled into a thin smile. "The second life of John Smith begins now."