After an agonizing death, M/N awoke engulfed in pain. His eyes, teary and bloodshot, opened to a vision smeared with crimson. There was a burning sensation in his chest as his ears rang so intensely his face grimaced.
"Fuck," he gritted out, drawing deep, ragged breaths.
Disoriented, M/N struggled to shift his position, feeling every inch of his body ache and emitting a low groan.
M/N tried focusing his vision. He was surrounded by grimy, damp brick walls and the sound of water dripping from a presumably broken pipe.
I thought I was dead. M/N thought, recalling the haunting silhouette wielding a bloodied knife.
With calloused hands against the floor, he painstakingly pushed himself up, feeling his bones grind and crack as if his skin might tear. Blood trickled down his forehead as he fought against gravity, feeling dizzy.
His hair clung to his skin with a mixture of blood and sweat, like glue.
"I refuse to die, you bastard." Slightly delirious and fueled by spite, M/N voiced his determination, even as each huff of air made his ribs sear.
He stood up, using the wall for assistance and leaning against it. He took this time to stare down at himself. His suit jacket was gone, revealing his ruined white dress shirt. It was seeping, covered, and smeared in an absolute mess. Blood was splattered everywhere.
M/N bit his tongue as he slowly took a few steps with the wall's assistance, quickly regretting it. He should hurry before he dies from blood loss.
Each step was shaky, his legs spasming with each stretch. It was as if he lost almost all ability to function. There might have been some type of nerve damage somewhere.
M/N had to breathe through his mouth, noting how much blood pooled from his nose, making it impossible to breathe. It wasn't any better knowing his mouth was bloody, and tasting horrific.
With how much blood M/N lost, it was a miracle he hadn't already died, but he did look on the verge of slipping into unconsciousness again.
M/N could only force himself to continue, thinking about what to do once he recovers. Who can he contact? Who can he call? His powers have diminished and he no longer has a tight hold on the country. Can he truly rebuild his empire like this?
His subordinates ratted him out like a bunch of damned hunting dogs. M/N should have kept a tighter leash on them. A leash so tight they'd be on the edge of suffocating to death.
"Dad! He's waking up! "
M/N's eyes fluttered open. His eyes were teary and watery. Did I lose consciousness again? With the amount of blood lost, he should have seen it coming, but he expected to be dead if he slipped again.
"Distance yourself. Be careful.."
Voices chimed together, blurring with the sound of low buzzing.
M/N took in a deep breath, taking in the injuries he still had before mustering up the strength to push himself up into a seated position. He couldn't hold it for long before falling back into the wall behind him.
The male was huffing as sweat dripped down his face. He seemed to have a fever as his body felt hot all over. His chest shook harshly.
"Where am I? " M/N uttered, pulling his head back to see two unfamiliar faces. They both had dark hair and similar facial features. They wore cheap-looking clothes that were partially stained or dirty.
"You're in our home." The man spoke, his voice deep and wary. He didn't seem old enough to have grey hair, but old enough to carry that wisdom aura.
M/N's gaze fell to himself, he was wearing the same clothes except his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His arms were now bandaged — albeit poorly— and still covered in now dried blood.
The dirtied bandages weren't properly aligned, leaving some space between the gauze to see the deep cuts he suffered. It was still a disgusting red and noticeably moist.
Carefully analyzing himself, M/N lifted his shirt, seeing the same gauze on almost his whole torso.
"You lost a lot of blood." The man seemed oddly calm about the fact. Most people don't act so casually about blood.
M/N slowly draped his shirt over his wounds, "Why not a hospital? "
"I'm sorry, but this is all we could do in our current situation."
M/N was suspicious about the rundown home he was in. It was small and seemingly a one-bedroom house. The walls seemed thin and the floorboards creaked with every move.
"I'm still grateful for your help." M/N ran a hand through his matted hair, his fingers getting caught in knots.
"What's your name? " The daughter spoke up for once. She looked curious about his whereabouts. And she looked a few years younger than him.
"M/N, just call me M/N. You? "
"I'm Soo — "
"Who are you really? " Her father interrupted, not wanting his daughter to reveal anything to a stranger, "Are you a gangster? Be honest. " His hand curled into a fist. Wait, hand? He only has one arm? M/N took note of that fact.
"I'm more of a businessman." It's not like M/N had a clean company, but not far enough to be called a gangster or exploiter.
"You look too young to be a 'businessman', pardon me." He did not seem to want to be pardoned at all.
"Right, yes. I wouldn't believe me either. I look seventeen, don't I? " M/N pointed a finger at himself. He knew it was absurd for a minor to be a CEO, he wasn't even nineteen before his business bloomed.
"Yes, you do. "
"It may seem hard to believe, but I'm the founder of the HNH group."
Everyone fell into a deep silence. You could only hear the cheap lightbulb above them buzz.
"Is it a Korean company..? " The daughter asked awkwardly.
"It's the biggest group in Korea right now, surely you've heard of it? It's run by my secretary, the one with heterochromia, the one who models on the side."
"There's no company like that." The man bluntly replied.
M/N tilted his head, extremely confused. How would they not know his company? It was one of the fastest-growing competitors in all of Korea, about to reach an international scale. His secretary's face was everywhere.
"You may have hit your head when you lost consciousness." They didn't seem to believe him much.
"No, no. I think.." M/N pulled a tight smile, "I think I'm alright. But, where are we specifically? "
"The suburbs of Seoul. Do you feel dizzy? "
The suburbs.
How did he get here? It was too far from his penthouse, he should have bled out long before he was dumped. Was he dumped at all? Did he forget where he was stabbed? He may actually have hit his head.
"I'm fine. Can I borrow your phone? I need to make a few calls." M/N brought a hand to his neck, holding it in comfort.
"If it's on speaker."
M/N simply nodded in agreement, he wasn't in a spot to negotiate, plus he owed the two for saving him.
"Could you leave the room for a moment? " The man turned to his daughter. She looked at her father in concern before following his request.
M/N watched the other dig through his pockets before pulling out a very small older phone. It had a few scratches but otherwise looked alright.
"Here." The man unlocked the phone before passing it to the younger.
"Thank you." M/N received it with two hands before rapidly dialing in a combination of phone numbers. He typed so fast he thought he'd accidentally break the lent phone.
M/N sat still, listening to the phone ring, waiting for one of his associates to pick up.
The first call no one picked up.
The second call no one picked up.
The third call no one picked up.
The fourth call no one picked up.
The fifth call — the stranger watched as M/N's nerves began to unravel — no one picked up.
Before M/N dialed the sixth number, he stared at the small time stamp at the top of the screen before clicking on it. He paused, processing the year he saw. It was 20 years behind.
"Is this date correct? " M/N flipped the phone, pointing to the flashing date on the screen. He was extremely skeptical.
"It's correct. You've only been resting for a night."
It's correct? This is impossible, it's behind my birthdate and yet I'm here? Is this guy crazy? Wait, am I dead? I could have sworn I died. I didn't die in that alley, but I died in what should have been the penthouse. The suburbs are across the city, I would have bled out before I made it halfway. Did they purposely prevent the bleeding to dump me somewhere? That's too absurd, that fucker wanted my head!
"Have you heard of the Kwak family? " M/N asked in a rushed voice.
The man narrowed his eyes, "No. They don't exist either. The only company I know of is the H group."
I don't know that company. They never existed before. I should know, I controlled so much of the stock market in Korea. I've studied the market like my life depended on it, I should have known who they were.
The teen sucked in a deep breath as he slowly opened the camera app, staring right at himself.
I look younger and my scars are gone. What the hell happened? I still look like me, but so extremely different. Did I really hit my head? No one is picking up. Do they exist either? Am I the only person who went back in time? If I went in time why is my body so different? I died, that's it. I died that day. There's no other explanation. So whose body am I in now? And why is the date different?
M/N returned the phone before leaning back and staring up at the thin ceiling. He was stuck in thought.
"Do you have anyone else you could con— "
M/N snapped his head back at the man, catching him off guard and staring intensely into his eyes. He was impulsive, jumpy, skittish, all the like.
"Mister, would you like to start a company with me? "