Dead men don’t pray, but I do. For her. For us.
Job was never a hero, just a man with a mop, scrubbing away the sins of a city that refused to be clean. They called him Lone Wolf, the orphan who got things done, the man who erased bloodstains no one else dared touch. But New York is no city of light. It’s a butcher’s block, a beast that devours its young, and Job was its favorite knife.

Now, Job is dead. His wife too. Or so it seems. In the liminal space between life and death, he wanders through a haunted New York where neon veins pulse like false promises and every alley whispers betrayal. What begins as grief becomes revelation: the city didn’t just kill them, it claimed them. And in that claim lies something darker, something eternal.

New York Reincarnation is a brutal, poetic descent into the underbelly of a metropolis built on lies. It’s the confession of a man who thought he was saving love but instead dug his own grave. It’s a ghost story, a crime saga, and a meditation on rebirth in a city that never mourns—only consumes.

Job’s prayer is simple: that death is not the end. But the truth he uncovers is bloodstained, merciless, and far more dangerous than any metaphor. His soul may be gone, but the city isn’t finished with him yet.

I am dead but my wife. No this can't be, this can't be how it end, she can't be dead with me this is my prayer. Yeah that was me " I use to think I was saving her. Turn's out I was just digging our grave with a mop" hmm now I wonder alone in this dead word. Let me tell you what you don't know. New York lied to you, they say it's a city that bleeds light, a thousand glittering veins pulsing with dream but I've seen it's true color. This city is a beast that eats it's young, yeah I thought this was poetry. But now I know it's a confession. My name is Job they call me the man who gets it done, the man who scrubbed away it's sins. The lone wolf. Funny, isn't it? The name they gave orphans and prophets, I'm neither. Just a ghost with a mop and a moral compass buried six feet deep. But the beast swallowed me. And her, God, her. The city must mourn with me for this is not our end, only just the beginning. But who cares about metaphors, do you? You want the bloodstained truth. Let's start with the night I traded my soul for a heartbeat…


Chapter 1 - New York Reincarnation.