The young man with his long black hair tied back hung his head, bloodied and scarred as if he'd been the target of deliberate, cruel torture.
His battered body dangled, suspended in the air by bloodstained chains that held his limbs taut, denying him any movement or freedom.
Around him echoed voices—a tortured cacophony of screams and cries, pleading for forgiveness that would never come.
The crimson moon cast an eerie light over them all, illuminating the damned souls destined to burn in hell for eternity.
Half-conscious, the young man stirred from his exhaustion when a sudden voice broke through the haze.
"Mu Jin, died on March 28, 1680," announced an old man, his fingers combing through a long, ebony beard that seemed to reflect his austere elegance.
"Thirty thousand lives taken. Countless, unforgivable crimes were committed. No chance of reincarnation."
Mu Jin slowly lifted his head, his dark eyes meeting the old man's piercing gaze, black as midnight, studying him as though he could see into the depths of his soul.
Draped in a flowing black robe, the old man stood with a vigor and presence that defied his years.
"Wh… Who are you?"
Mu Jin's voice was barely a whisper, hoarse and fragile as if the mere effort threatened to shatter it.
He hadn't spoken in so long that even the wind sounded louder than his words.
Yet the old man's hearing was sharp. "Do you want to repent?"
At this, Mu Jin let out a bitter laugh, spitting toward the ground. "Repent? God abandoned me long ago."
"Still defiant after all this time?" The old man sighed, shaking his head. "Don't you feel any regret?"
Mu Jin was silent, his mouth dry and parched, a condition he'd endured for millennia without relief.
Regret?
Resentment was all he had left, festering within him like an unhealed wound. His hatred for the divine was as fresh as the day he'd died.
"Rejoice, young man," the old man continued, a slight smile curling his lips.
"For today, I, the Jade Emperor, offer you forgiveness. But on one condition."
Mu Jin's brows furrowed, his voice laced with skepticism. "Forgiveness? And the price?"
The Jade Emperor's gaze didn't waver. "Repent and cleanse the world of murderers still roaming the earth. Fulfill this task, and I shall grant you a chance at reincarnation."
Mu Jin let out a soft, humorless chuckle, turning his face away. The old man was either delusional or cruel to dangle such an impossible hope.
A lifetime of rejection from the gods had convinced him: that no mercy would ever be shown to him. Not now, not ever.
However, Mu Jin's eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment, as if some unseen force was pulling him toward sleep—an impossible comfort in a place like hell, where rest was a luxury denied to the damned.
Yet he felt a strange sense of warmth, like a soft blanket settling over his torn and bloodied body, easing the ache of centuries-old wounds.
Hovering somewhere between wakefulness and dreams, he began to hear faint whispers. They echoed like distant cries, tugging at his fading awareness.
A voice, unfamiliar yet filled with desperation, was calling a name—a name he didn't recognize.
"Ok Seol Ah! Wake up! Seol Ah!"
"Don't give up! Please, wake up!"
"I'm… I'm so sorry!"
***
The girl's crimson eyes fluttered open, narrowing instinctively as they struggled to adjust to the harsh light pouring down from the ceiling.
Blinking a few times, she scanned her surroundings. All she could see was white—walls, floors, even the light filtering through the barred windows.
Everything was blindingly sterile, almost suffocating.
"What the hell…" she muttered, her voice hoarse as she tried to sit up.
A sharp tug on her hand stopped her, and she glanced down to see an IV line embedded in her skin.
With a wince, she yanked it out, ignoring the faint sting as a trickle of blood pooled on her palm.
Pushing herself off the bed, she stumbled to the windows, gripping the curtains and sliding them aside to let sunlight flood the room. For a moment, she stared at the world outside.
"Where is this? Is this… heaven?" she asked herself, then let out a short, bitter laugh.
"No way this is heaven."
Her thoughts raced, fragments of the old man's words flashing in her mind. 'He said I needed to repent, didn't he?'
She rubbed her chin instinctively, only to stop short. Her hand brushed smooth, clean skin.
"I remember having a beard… Where is it?" she muttered, her voice tinged with unease.
She glanced down at her hands and body, noticing subtle differences.
Her thoughts fragmented further as strange memories flooded her mind—memories that felt both foreign and familiar.
"I'm supposed to be Mu Jin… but why do I feel like my name is Ok Seol Ah?"
A strand of hair drifted in front of her eyes, catching her attention. She touched it, her fingers brushing silken white strands.
"White hair? Was I an old man? But I'm… sixteen?" The confusion deepened as another jolt of knowledge surfaced.
"Wait, why am I sixteen? And why am I a… girl?" Her hands shot down to her crotch, panic gripping her as she felt the truth. Flat. Nothing.
"FFUUUCKKKK!!!" she roared, the sound echoing off the sterile walls.
The commotion was enough to summon the nurses, who burst into the room, alarmed. One of them immediately noticed the IV line dangling from her arm, blood dripping onto the floor.
"Mrs. Ok! You're hurt! Please, let us bandage your hand and calm down. You've just woken up from a coma!" one of them exclaimed, gently guiding her back to the bed despite her stunned resistance.
Mu Jin—no, Seol Ah—let herself be pushed back, her mind spinning too fast to resist.
The nurses worked quickly, cleaning and bandaging her hand while scolding her for pulling out the IV.
She barely heard them, her thoughts consumed by one infuriating truth.
She was alive—but in a girl's body.
Her voice dropped to a low, venomous murmur as her rage simmered.
"Fucking hell… I'm gonna kill that Jade Emperor if I ever see him again."
The nurses paused at her words, exchanging wary glances, but eventually shook their heads and returned to their work.
To them, she was just a delirious patient fresh from a long sleep. But for Seol Ah, the fury was all too real.
Her body was foreign, her identity shattered—and her "proud dragon" was gone.