The storm outside the café had become a relentless roar, rain pelting the windows like a thousand whispered warnings. Song Jin-Woo sat in the near-darkness, mind racing as the woman's words echoed.
"You're not the only one who returned."
The phrase hung heavy and unexplained.
Who else had been given this impossible second chance? What did it mean for him—and for the life he was struggling to rebuild?
His fingers traced the rough surface of the wooden table, worn from years of use. The scratches seemed like scars of the past—much like his own life, marked by regrets and missed chances.
His thoughts drifted back to that life—the first one, the one he was desperate to rewrite.
Flashback:
The cramped apartment, dimly lit by a single bulb, reeked of stale smoke and disappointment. Jin-Woo, older, worn down by failure, sat slumped on a threadbare couch, staring at the pile of unpaid bills on the table.
His dream of financial success had crumbled, leaving him jobless, alone, and drowning in debt.
His phone buzzed relentlessly—calls from creditors, reminders of missed deadlines.
He remembered the faces of people he'd let down—his mother, his younger sister, friends who had believed in him.
The stock market crashes, the deals gone wrong, the relentless pressure—it all piled up until one moment broke him.
Back in the present, Jin-Woo exhaled sharply, the weight of his past like a stone in his chest.
He had barely escaped that downfall, but this time he had a weapon no one else had: memory.
Every mistake, every missed opportunity burned bright in his mind like a roadmap to success or ruin.
But why did fate give him this second chance? And who else shared this gift?
The woman's words replayed: "There's a network—people like us. Scattered, watching, waiting. Some want to help. Others want to take everything you've gained."
A network.
Others like him.
Was he truly alone in this battle, or was he walking into a trap?
She pressed a USB drive into his hand, its cold plastic a sharp contrast to the turmoil inside him.
"Inside this is everything you need to know about your past life—and the forces that want to erase your second chance."
He held it tightly, feeling the gravity of her warning.
Flashback:
Years before his collapse, Jin-Woo had been on the cusp of success.
He remembered the rush of opening his first investment account, the pride when his portfolio grew steadily.
He recalled the advice of his mentor, a grizzled trader who warned him to be cautious, to expect the unexpected.
But ambition blinded him.
He took risky bets, chasing quick wins.
The crash came suddenly.
Markets plunged, and with them, Jin-Woo's dreams.
The mentor's words haunted him—"The market is a battlefield; you either adapt or perish."
Back in the present, Jin-Woo's jaw tightened.
This time, he would adapt.
This time, he would survive.
Suddenly, the café's emergency lights flickered on, casting eerie shadows. The few remaining patrons had vanished.
Jin-Woo's eyes darted to the door, expecting danger.
The woman's voice came again, low and urgent.
"Trust no one. Not even those closest to you."
Her warning lingered like smoke.
She vanished into the storm, leaving Jin-Woo alone with his thoughts and the USB drive.
Later, in the solitude of his apartment, Jin-Woo connected the drive to his laptop.
Files flooded the screen—encrypted documents, surveillance footage, coded notes.
One name appeared repeatedly: Kang Min-Jae.
The scarred man from the photograph.
Jin-Woo's heart pounded.
Who was Kang?
Ally? Enemy?
A video file played—a distorted voice warned: "They've come back. The second chance is real. But it's a double-edged sword. The past will not stay buried."
The screen went black.
Jin-Woo sat back, the chilling truth sinking in.
His past was alive and hunting him.
Outside, the city buzzed with secrets.
And somewhere in the shadows, others watched.
Waiting.
The storm outside the café had grown into a relentless symphony of wind and rain, each drop tapping against the foggy windowpanes like a ticking clock counting down an unseen deadline. Inside, Song Jin-Woo sat silently, surrounded by shadows and flickering neon lights that painted the worn wooden table in intermittent shades of blue and red.
His mind churned with the woman's final words, still ringing loud and clear.
"You're not the only one who returned."
A simple statement, yet heavy with implication. It threatened to shatter the fragile equilibrium Jin-Woo had struggled to maintain ever since waking fourteen years in the past, armed with memories and regrets.
Others—like him—others who had been gifted this second chance.
But why? And more frighteningly, for what purpose?
Jin-Woo's fingers absently traced the deep grooves carved into the café's table, scars worn smooth by years of use, much like the invisible scars etched into his own soul. The storm outside was mirrored by the storm inside him—a torrent of fear, hope, and uncertainty.
Memories of the First Life
He closed his eyes and let the past wash over him—crisp images and raw emotions rushing forth.
The cramped apartment he had once called home, barely furnished and thick with the stale scent of failure. Unpaid bills piled high on a cluttered desk, each one a monument to his downfall.
Phone calls that never stopped—creditors, angry investors, family members pleading, demanding answers.
Jin-Woo remembered the nights spent staring at the ceiling, heart racing, overwhelmed by the crushing weight of his mistakes. The market crash that wiped out everything overnight—the bitter sting of watching his dreams evaporate like smoke.
He recalled his mentor's steady voice, full of years of hard-earned wisdom:
"The market is a battlefield. Adapt, or perish."
Jin-Woo had ignored the warning, blinded by ambition and desperation, making reckless decisions that plunged him deeper into ruin.
The memories came fast and fierce, but with them came a fierce determination.
This time, he thought, I will not fail.
He opened his eyes to the flickering emergency lights. The café had emptied silently, all but the two of them vanishing into the storm.
The Woman's Warning
Her voice cut through the stillness, low and sharp:
"There's a network. People like us. Scattered, watching, waiting."
She leaned forward, eyes glinting in the dim light.
"Some want to help. Others want to take everything you've gained."
Jin-Woo's pulse quickened as she pressed a small USB drive into his palm. The cold plastic felt like a lifeline—or a noose.
"Inside this," she said, "is everything you need to know about your past life—and the forces that want to erase your second chance."
Her gaze locked with his.
"Trust no one. Not even those closest to you."
And with that, she disappeared into the pouring rain.
Alone with Secrets
Jin-Woo remained seated long after the door closed behind her, the storm's fury outside matching the chaos inside him. When he finally left, the rain had softened to a steady drizzle, the neon signs casting shimmering reflections on wet asphalt.
Back in his apartment, he connected the USB drive to his aging laptop. The screen flickered to life, revealing folders full of encrypted files, videos, and documents.
One name appeared repeatedly: Kang Min-Jae.
The scarred man from the photograph.
Who is Kang Min-Jae?
Jin-Woo's stomach twisted. Kang's face was a sharp reminder of a past he had tried to bury.
Another flashback struck him.
Flashback: The First Encounter
Years ago, Jin-Woo had been desperate and broken, wandering the cold streets alone after losing everything. One night, in a dark alley shrouded in mist, he had met Kang Min-Jae.
The man's scar was a cruel slash from temple to jawline, his cold eyes unreadable.
"You owe a debt," Kang had said quietly but firmly.
Jin-Woo had barely escaped that encounter, his heart pounding not just with fear but with the knowledge that Kang was a force to be reckoned with.
The Warning Video
Back in the present, Jin-Woo clicked on a video file labeled "Warning."
The grainy footage showed a dimly lit room; a distorted voice warned:
"They've come back. The second chance is real. But it's a double-edged sword. The past will not stay buried."
The screen went black.
Jin-Woo sat back, the implications crashing down on him. His past wasn't just a memory. It was alive, watching, waiting—and hunting him.
Questions That Burn
The storm outside eased into a low rumble as dawn approached. Jin-Woo felt the exhaustion of hours without rest but couldn't sleep. The questions clawed at his mind.
Who else had returned?Why were they watching him?Could he trust anyone?
His second life, which he had hoped would be a clean slate, was rapidly becoming a dangerous battlefield.
The Weight of the Past and Future
Jin-Woo stood at his window, looking out over the waking city. Neon lights faded as the first rays of sun pierced the horizon.
This second chance was a gift—but also a curse.
He needed to uncover the truth about Kang Min-Jae and the network of returnees before it was too late.
Because the shadows of his past were closing in—and they didn't intend to let go.