Leong reached the quiet street corner where the café faded behind him, the scent of roasted beans still lingering on his clothes. The morning sun had climbed higher, warming his back, but the warmth failed to touch the cold determination settling inside him.
There was no turning back now.
The man he called earlier—Uncle Raymond—was not a real uncle, yet in Leong's past life, he had been the only person willing to risk his job to hide the truth about certain documents that could have protected Leong from the betrayal that killed him.
But Leong had been blind.
He had ignored every warning.
He had trusted the wrong people.
Not this time.
He walked to the nearest bus stop, choosing public transportation deliberately. No one would track him here—not yet. He boarded a half-empty bus and took a seat near the back, facing the window. The city buildings passed in fast motion as he rehearsed everything he knew.
The documents Raymond hid.
The fake contracts Taira forged.
The poisoned inheritance agreement.
The stolen company shares.
And finally… the night of his murder.
His grip tightened on the metal rail beside him.
Every memory was sharp.
Painfully vivid.
Burned into him like scars that refused to fade.
He inhaled slowly and forced himself to relax. Anger was a weapon, but only if he held it steadily. Uncontrolled anger was exactly what his enemies wanted.
Today, he needed focus.
The bus stopped. He stepped off onto a quieter part of town—an old commercial street with peeling paint, aging shops, and dusty signboards. At the corner stood a modest office with foggy windows and a rusty sign:
Raymond & Associates — Private Consultant
Leong pushed the door open.
The Man Who Once Tried to Save Him
A chime rang softly. Inside, papers were stacked in slightly chaotic piles, filing cabinets half-open, and an old fan hummed lazily in the corner. Behind a wooden desk sat Raymond—a man in his late fifties, with tired eyes but a sharpness that no exhaustion could fully dull.
He froze when he saw Leong.
"You…" Raymond whispered, pushing up his glasses. "You really are alive."
Leong nodded. "It's been a while."
Raymond stood, almost knocking over a stack of folders. "I thought—after that night—"
"I know," Leong replied. "Everyone thought so."
Raymond exhaled shakily and motioned him to sit. "Why now? After disappearing for so long?"
Leong met his gaze steadily. "Because I'm ready."
Raymond swallowed. "Ready… to finish what they started?"
"No," Leong said quietly. "To undo everything they did."
Raymond slumped into his chair, rubbing his temples. "I kept the files. I kept everything you asked me to hide back then. I always hoped you would return for them. But I never expected this."
"You did the right thing," Leong said. "Those files could change everything."
"You don't understand," Raymond replied. "Those files could start a war."
Leong leaned forward. "Good. Let them."
Raymond stared at him—long, assessing, searching for the naïve young man Leong used to be.
But that Leong had died.
Finally, Raymond stood and walked to a locked cabinet. He took out a metal box, small but heavy, and placed it on the table between them.
"Everything is inside," he said quietly. "Contracts. Transaction logs. Original ownership certificates. Even the investigation report you never saw."
Leong's pulse quickened.
The report.
The investigation he never knew existed.
The investigation he didn't live long enough to see.
Raymond hesitated. "Are you absolutely sure you want this path? Once you start, there is no return."
Leong opened the box.
"I died once because I did nothing," he said. "This time, I do something."
Truth That Should Have Shattered Him
He pulled out the thick envelope labeled:
Internal Audit: Confidential – Not Approved by Board
He broke the seal and unfolded the first page.
His eyes skimmed through lines of text that stabbed him like knives.
Financial discrepancies.
Unauthorized withdrawals.
Share transfers made under his forged signature.
Leaked confidential plans.
Poison traces identified in weekly test results that the family had hidden.
And finally—
Suspects:
Taira Leong
(Redacted)
(Redacted)
The second and third names were blurred out. Leong's chest tightened.
Raymond noticed. "I had to protect some parts… in case they discovered the files. But now—"
He produced another small envelope.
"This one contains the unredacted versions. I never trusted your cousins."
Leong took it and opened it slowly.
The second name was someone he expected.
His step-brother, Ren.
The third name…
Was someone he had loved.
Someone who had kissed him while stealing from him.
Someone who fed him poison and watched him die.
Leong stared at the name.
Sofia.
His ex-girlfriend.
The woman who told him he was her whole world.
The woman who whispered "I love you" hours before she helped murder him.
His fist trembled, the paper crumpling in his grip.
Raymond's voice was gentle. "I'm sorry you had to see it this way."
Leong's jaw tightened until it hurt.
"I already knew," he said softly. "I saw her face before I died. She didn't hide it."
Raymond inhaled sharply. "Leong…"
"It's fine," Leong said, though his voice was ice. "I have no intention of forgiving her."
He slid the documents back into the box.
"Raymond," he said, standing up, "I'm going to need your help again."
The older man nodded. "Tell me what you need."
Leong's eyes were cold and sharp.
"Information. Every connection they have. Every weakness. Every secret."
Raymond swallowed. "That will take time."
"I have time," Leong replied. "I was given a second life. I won't waste it."
Unfinished Business
When Leong left the office, the weight of the documents felt heavy in his bag—but strangely light in his heart.
For the first time since his rebirth, he had something he didn't have before:
A clear direction.
He walked down the quiet street, letting the wind cool his thoughts. He needed a plan. A strategy. Revenge wasn't a single strike—it was a series of steps, each one precise, calculated, and unstoppable.
But as he turned the corner—
A soft voice called his name.
"Leong?"
He froze before turning.
It was Fatma, holding a grocery bag, her eyes wide and warm.
He blinked. "You again?"
She smiled shyly. "I could ask you the same thing. Are you following me?"
The joke eased something in his chest.
"No," he said softly. "Just a strange coincidence."
Fatma studied him closely. "You look… different."
Leong stiffened. "Different how?"
"Like something heavy is on your mind."
She wasn't wrong.
He forced a small smile. "Just dealing with old matters."
She hesitated, then stepped closer. "Do you want help?"
He stared at her.
Why did she keep appearing?
Why did she keep offering kindness he never deserved?
"Fatma," he said gently, "you don't even know me."
"I know enough," she said quietly. "I know you're trying hard… and that you're carrying something alone."
Her words hit him with unexpected force.
In his previous life, no one had ever said that.
Not once.
He looked away, trying to control the emotions bubbling inside him.
"Thank you," he whispered. "But the things I'm dealing with… you shouldn't get involved."
Her brows knitted with worry. "Leong—"
"I mean it," he said firmly. "Just stay safe. That's enough."
She didn't argue, but her eyes lingered on him with a softness he wasn't used to.
"Okay," she finally said. "But if you ever need someone to talk to… I'm around."
He nodded faintly. "I'll remember that."
Fatma gave him a small smile and walked off.
Leong watched her go, fighting the strange warmth in his chest.
He wasn't used to kindness.
Especially not from someone who seemed to genuinely care.
He exhaled slowly and turned the other way.
There was work to do.
Enemies to expose.
Power to reclaim.
And a past that needed to be rewritten step by step.
Leong walked with renewed determination.
His second life had just begun.
And the people who murdered him had no idea what was coming.