Night had already swallowed the city when Leong stepped off the bus and walked toward the dimly lit street leading to his rented room. Humid air clung to his skin, the kind that made breathing feel heavier. But Leong's mind was alive, sharp, calculating.
His first move had already rattled Ren.
Tomorrow, the next move would follow.
And soon, the people who killed him would feel something they never imagined possible:
Fear.
He pushed open the door of his room, switched on the light, and placed the folder of documents on the desk. The room was painfully modest—plain walls, a single bed, a cheap table—but it was temporary. Everything in his life right now was temporary.
Except revenge.
He sat down and flipped open the documents again. Every line, every signature, every forged transfer reinforced the same truth—his death had been prepared, executed, and celebrated by the people who thought he was too naïve to ever fight back.
They would learn.
But just as he reached for another page, his phone buzzed.
A message.
From Fatma.
Again.
"Are you home? You didn't reply for a long time."
Leong stared at the screen. A strange warmth tugged at his chest, subtle but undeniably there.
He typed back:
"Yes. Just busy."
Three dots appeared almost immediately.
"Busy with things that hurt you?"
Leong's fingers paused above the keyboard.
No one had ever asked him that question.
Not in his past life.
Not even the woman he thought he would marry.
He typed:
"They are things I need to finish."
Fatma replied:
"Then I hope you finish them safely."
Safe.
He hadn't felt safe for years—long before his death.
Leong pocketed his phone and returned to the documents. He couldn't allow distractions. Not from her kindness. Not from the ghosts of his last life.
But as the minutes passed, he sensed something.
Something off.
A presence.
A weight on the air.
He wasn't alone.
Slowly, he tilted his head.
Through the slit under his door, he saw it—
a shadow.
Someone was standing outside.
His muscles tightened. He rose silently, moving to the side of the door. Another shadow shifted—someone else was standing near the stairs.
Two people.
Not random.
Not accidental.
A soft knock.
"Leong. Open the door."
A female voice.
He recognized it instantly.
Taira.
The cousin who smiled as the poison killed him.
Leong's pulse slowed—not with fear, but with focus.
He quietly unlocked the window on the opposite wall. If necessary, he could slip out. But he wanted to know why they were here.
Another knock.
"Leong, we just want to talk."
A lie.
They never came without hidden knives.
Leong stayed silent.
Then Taira's tone sharpened. "If you don't open, the landlord will. And trust me—you won't like what we have to say in front of him."
They wanted a reaction. A mistake. A sign he was cornered.
Leong unlatched the door gently, but did not open it. He stood there, breathing steady.
Finally—
He opened it halfway.
The hallway lights flickered overhead. Taira stood wearing a tight blouse and a pleasant smile that didn't reach her eyes. Behind her stood a man in a leather jacket, arms crossed—one of Ren's hired watchers.
Leong leaned against the doorframe casually. "What do you want?"
Taira pulled her lips into a delicate pout. "Leong… you've been avoiding everyone. Ren's worried. Sofia's heartbroken. You disappeared and never explained."
"I don't owe any of you explanations."
Taira blinked, surprised at his coldness. She tried again. "We only came to check on you. You look… stressed."
Leong met her gaze. "You poisoned me."
The smile cracked.
The man behind her tensed.
Taira whispered, "Leong, what are you talking about?"
"Don't play innocent," he said calmly. "Your fingerprints were on the documents you forged. And you think I wouldn't notice the transfers Ren approved under my name?"
Her pupils trembled.
"But don't worry," Leong continued. "I'm not here to accuse you."
He leaned closer.
"I'm here to warn you."
Taira stepped back unconsciously.
The man behind her reached into his jacket—reflexively—but Leong's gaze flickered to him, cold and sharp as a blade.
He froze.
Leong continued, voice low and controlled. "Tell Ren and Sofia this—if they come near me again, I won't forgive a second time."
Taira swallowed. "You've changed."
"Yes," Leong replied. "Death does that."
Her face drained of color.
She backed away slowly, then turned sharply, walking down the hallway with the man following closely behind. They disappeared into the stairwell without another word.
Leong closed the door quietly.
Then exhaled.
They were afraid.
And fear was a weapon.
He returned to the documents—but before he could dive in again, his phone buzzed.
Another message.
From Fatma.
"I don't know why, but I keep worrying about you."
He closed his eyes for a moment.
Of all times…
He typed:
"I'm fine."
She sent:
"If someday you need someone to stand with you… I will."
Leong tightened his grip around the phone.
He didn't deserve that kind of sincerity. And yet it kept finding him through her.
He placed the phone face-down on the table.
Tomorrow… he had to accelerate everything.
Because the moment Taira showed up, it meant one thing—
Ren and Sofia no longer trusted the illusion.
They were starting to suspect him.
Good.
Let their paranoia destroy them from the inside.
⸻
The Next Morning
Leong arrived early at Kelvin's consultancy office. Kelvin looked exhausted—dark circles under his eyes, messy hair, shirt untucked.
"You weren't kidding about working overnight," Kelvin said as he handed over a flash drive. "This has every transaction log going back eight months. And… I highlighted the suspicious ones."
Leong nodded. "Good. You did well."
Kelvin hesitated before speaking again.
"Leong… someone came here last night. Ren. He wanted to ask about you."
Leong's expression didn't change. "What did you tell him?"
"The truth—that I didn't know anything."
"That's the correct answer."
Kelvin swallowed. There was something in Leong's tone—authority mixed with quiet danger—that made him realize:
This wasn't the Leong he used to know.
This was someone reborn.
Kelvin lowered his voice. "Leong… am I in danger?"
Leong answered slowly. "Not if you stay on the right side."
Kelvin nodded quickly.
Leong left shortly after, taking the flash drive and heading toward a nearby café where he could review things in public—just in case Ren sent someone again.
He chose a corner seat and plugged the flash drive into his laptop.
Within minutes, he found it.
The pattern.
The method.
The betrayal laid bare in numbers:
—Sofia's fake medical clinic bills
—Ren's "investment" loans
—Taira's forged signatures
—A fourth person transferring untraceable cryptocurrency from Leong's accounts
A fourth person.
Someone he didn't know yet.
Someone he hadn't suspected before.
Someone who helped kill him.
Leong's heartbeat slowed.
This changed everything.
He pushed away from the table slightly, deep in thought—until a shadow fell across the café window.
A woman stood outside.
Long scarf.
Soft eyes.
Nervous smile.
Fatma.
She spotted him inside and waved gently.
Leong stared at her for a moment.
Why… of all days… was she here?
She stepped in hesitantly, walking toward him.
"You're up early," she said with a small smile.
Leong closed the laptop. "Just working."
Fatma swallowed. "Are you angry I found you? I wasn't… stalking. I just walk this way to school."
He studied her expression.
No lies.
No schemes.
No hidden knives.
Just sincerity.
He shook his head. "No. It's fine."
Her shoulders relaxed. "You looked tense. And yesterday… I don't know why, but I felt like someone was troubling you."
He didn't respond.
Fatma took a small breath. "If someone hurt you before… I hope they don't get to hurt you again."
His eyes softened despite himself.
She didn't know the full truth.
But she sensed enough.
He stood. "Fatma, listen. You need to stay away from me for a while."
Her eyes widened. "What? Why?"
"Because I'm dealing with dangerous people."
"I don't care."
"You should."
She looked down. "I don't want you facing darkness alone."
Her voice trembled, not with fear, but with courage.
For a moment—just a moment—Leong felt something warm crack open inside him.
But he closed it again.
He couldn't involve her.
Not yet.
Not when people were watching him from shadows.
He took a step back. "Please. For your own safety."
Fatma clenched her hands but nodded slowly. "If staying away keeps you safe… then I will. But—"
Her eyes lifted.
"Don't disappear again."
Leong froze.
Those words hit him harder than any betrayal ever did.
He exhaled. "I won't."
Fatma smiled faintly—a small, hopeful smile—and walked away, scarf fluttering behind her.
Leong watched her go, his emotions twisting in ways he couldn't control.
She didn't know it…
But she was already inside the war he was trying to shield her from.
And the enemy was watching.
⸻
The Smile Behind the Glass
Across the street, inside a parked black car, Ren lowered his binoculars and grinned.
"Interesting," he murmured. "So she's the reason he's acting strange."
Beside him, Sofia leaned forward, eyes full of venom.
"That girl," she hissed. "She's been getting close to him."
Ren smirked. "Want me to scare her off?"
Sofia's lips curved.
"No. Let's see how Leong reacts when the girl he cares about becomes our leverage."
Ren laughed darkly.
And inside the café, unaware of the eyes watching him, Leong felt a sudden chill travel down his spine.
The war had begun.
But now—
Fatma was officially on the battlefield.