Kai Ren was the first to visit. He told Jin everything—about Lina's sacrifice, how she gave up everything to keep him alive, and how she vanished into the shadows of the world.
Jin, once weak and helpless, now had a fire burning in his chest. "I will find her," he whispered. "No matter what I have to become."
He left the hospital the next day.
Years passed.
He trained. Studied. Worked day and night. He clawed his way through pain, guilt, and rage, until he stood as Detective jin, one of the sharpest young minds in criminal investigations—known for solving human trafficking rings with brutal precision.
He used to spend his days among paperbacks and poetry, speaking gently and offering warmth in a city that didn't know how to be kind. But when Lina vanished, something in him cracked—then hardened.
For months, he searched as the gentle man he had always been—asking, posting flyers, calling every number he could find. But the deeper he looked, the more the shadows mocked him. People laughed at his desperation. Some even lied, scammed him for fake leads.
That was when he realized: softness would never bring her back.
So he buried the poet.
He sold the bookstore.
And he disappeared.
Kai Ren used the last of his savings to start a business: WenCorp Security. Small at first, offering personal protection and surveillance for local businesses. But behind the public face, he trained privately with mercenaries, ex-military, and black-market spies. He learned how power truly moved.
Each year, WenCorp grew.
Each year, Kai Ren grew colder.
He bought data from international trafficking rings. Built his own intel networks. Hired hackers, ex-cops, bounty hunters. And when he uncovered just how deep the abyss went—how many girls vanished like Lina—he didn't just get angry.
He declared war.
Soon, Kai Ren was no longer a name.
He was a ghost with eyes everywhere. The man with a checkbook that could buy you heaven—or bury you under it.