Jin Seok-woo was only nineteen when he was dubbed the "Youngest Billionaire in the World." The second-generation heir to the Jin Conglomerate, he had everything the world could offer—money, fame, the kind of power that could shake governments. Private jets, luxury mansions, elite schools, celebrity friends, business ventures before age twenty—he lived a dream.
Seok-woo's parents, Jin Dae-hyun and Min Ji-yeon, were beloved figures. Dae-hyun was a visionary entrepreneur, and Ji-yeon a philanthropist known for her kind heart. Despite being born into wealth, Seok-woo was taught values, and he was truly close to his parents. They were his world.
Until the accident.
One rainy night, while returning from an overseas charity event, the private jet carrying his parents exploded mid-air. Authorities claimed it was mechanical failure, but deep down, Seok-woo knew something was wrong. That night, the bright lights of his life went out.
Within days, his fortune crumbled like a house of cards.
BREAKING NEWS: YOUNGEST BILLIONAIRE JIN SEOK-WOO DECLARES BANKRUPTCY
MYSTERY SURROUNDS JIN CONGLOMERATE'S SUDDEN COLLAPSE
PARENTS OF YOUNG TYCOON DEAD IN AIR DISASTER—SABOTAGE OR ACCIDENT?
The media feasted on his downfall. His so-called friends ghosted him. Board members turned on him. Stocks plummeted overnight as false rumors spread. His family's companies were torn apart and sold in pieces. He lost everything.
Even his home.
Seok-woo spent the next two years crawling through society's filth. His once soft hands became calloused. He worked construction, carried bricks, swept alleys—anything to survive. Gone were the silk suits, the chauffeured cars, the imported wine. His meals were cold rice or leftovers. His mansion? Replaced by a rusty rooftop shack in Seoul's slums.
He was angry. Grieving. But mostly, empty.
And then, one ordinary night, fate twisted the knife.
He was walking home with a bag of cheap groceries when he saw him—his uncle, Jin Tae-suk—standing across the street from his old mansion. He wore an expensive suit and was laughing with another man.
Curious, Seok-woo quietly moved closer and ducked behind a pillar.
Tae-suk's words hit like bullets.
"That dumb kid never saw it coming. I sold off his father's stocks piece by piece. Ha! I squeezed every drop from the corpse of that company. If only Dae-hyun hadn't been so sentimental about his brat. Oh well. Now everything belongs to me."
Seok-woo's mind went blank.
"I ripped him off so cleanly—just like his parents. Accidents happen, don't they?"
His knees buckled. Trembling, he stepped into the street. "YOU… YOU BASTARD!"
Tae-suk turned in surprise, but quickly smirked. "Oh? The beggar's still alive?"
Seok-woo charged, but a wall of muscle hit him—his uncle's bodyguards. They grabbed him, slammed him to the ground, and began kicking him mercilessly.
"No witnesses," Tae-suk muttered coldly. "Make it look like a junkie fight. I don't want him breathing."
Pain exploded through Seok-woo's ribs, jaw, stomach. He bled. Bones cracked. His vision blurred.
"You stole my parents… my life…" he gasped.
Tae-suk leaned in, lighting a cigar. "You were never worthy. Now go join your pathetic parents."
Seok-woo's last sight was the city lights fading into darkness.
And then… silence.
An endless void.
No time. No pain. Just… black.
He floated, bodiless, senseless. Then came whispers in a language he didn't know—low, echoing chants. Something ancient. Alien.
And then—light.
A blinding sphere of white tore through the darkness and swallowed him whole.