Ethan stood on the balcony of his modest Seoul apartment, rain pelting the glass behind him. Below, the city moved in ignorant chaos—people oblivious to the storm that was about to descend on their world.
His phone buzzed. A single message from Michael Carter's underling:
"We've made our move. Prepare for… complications."
Ethan didn't even flinch. Instead, a slow, predatory smile spread across his face. He knew every complication, every betrayal, every move before it happened. And now, it would all end in blood and ash.
He called Daniel Frost, his loyal assistant, whose loyalty had been cemented through trials that no ordinary man could survive.
"Gather the men," Ethan said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through the walls themselves. "Tonight, we remind Carter's people why fear is the only currency that truly matters."
Minutes later, Ethan's small convoy rolled through the darkened streets. Shadows danced in the rain, the engines' growl masking the heartbeat of terror that followed him like a living thing. He wasn't just leading men—he was radiating power, an aura that made hardened criminals hesitate, made cops rethink intervention, made ordinary people pray in the darkness.
At the warehouse where Carter's syndicate had stashed illicit assets, Ethan stepped out first. Rain soaked his suit, clinging to the hard angles of his body, yet he radiated an aura of unearthly control.
"Where are the fools hiding?" he whispered, and it wasn't a question. It was an edict, a command that bent reality around him.
Two men appeared from the shadows, guns drawn. They fired, but Ethan's aura seemed to slow time for them. Every shot he dodged effortlessly, every movement precise, almost inhuman. In seconds, both lay unconscious, bruised and broken—alive, but permanently marked with the knowledge of their failure.
Inside, chaos erupted. Ethan moved like a ghost, every step deliberate, every gesture a lesson in fear. Men who thought themselves untouchable screamed as his henchmen neutralized them. Blood flowed, but Ethan didn't flinch. Every drop was a message: betray me, and this will be you.
Finally, he reached Carter's lieutenant, the man responsible for his near-death in his past life. The man raised his gun, trembling, sweat mixing with rain.
"You…" he stammered.
Ethan's hand flicked—a movement almost imperceptible—and the gun fell from the man's grip, clattering on the concrete. His blue eyes burned like ice-fire.
"This is the beginning," Ethan said softly. His aura pressed on the man, making him kneel even without a word. "You will live. But you will remember fear. You will teach it to anyone who dares oppose me."
By dawn, the warehouse lay in ruin. Carter's assets were gone, his men scattered and terrified, and one clear truth spread like wildfire through the city: Ethan Cross does not negotiate. He does not forgive. And he is coming for everyone who betrayed him.
Back in his apartment, Ethan removed his drenched suit, revealing the faint scars of his past life etched into his skin. Hana Seo's words echoed in his mind: "Be careful. Don't lose yourself."
Ethan smiled darkly at his reflection. "I am already myself… the self that this world fears."
And somewhere deep inside, a new calculation began forming. The stock market, the syndicates, the corrupt elites—they were all pieces. And Ethan Cross? He was the hand that would move them all.
Tonight, the first blood had been spilled. But this was only the beginning.