Now, in 1894, Jin found himself in Hong Kong, far from his homeland but burdened with a secret that set him apart even here.
The memories of his past life had come suddenly, unbidden, two years ago. At first, he thought them delusions, remnants of a fevered imagination. Schizophrenia, he had called it. But how could a boy in the 19th century even know such a term?
The memories were too vivid to dismiss, the knowledge too precise. Over time, they aligned with history in ways Jin couldn't deny. He was a man from the 21st century, a stranger in his own skin.
"Phew…" Jin exhaled softly, closing his journal.
Rising from his chair, he knelt beside a loose floorboard. Carefully, he lifted it, revealing a small wooden box. Inside were his most valuable possessions: handwritten notes chronicling future events and the modest savings he had earned through relentless work.
Jin's gaze lingered on the contents for a moment, his thoughts dark and determined. His father's sacrifices had kept them afloat, but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.
And so, at thirteen, Jin had stepped into the streets with nothing but a shoeshine kit and a plan.
He had approached the work methodically, targeting the wealthiest clients. The British, who dominated Hong Kong, had proven the perfect choice. Soldiers, merchants, and politicians—all fascinated by the young boy who spoke their language fluently.
It was a start.
But Jin's ambitions were far greater. He didn't want to be useful; he wanted to be indispensable.
But Being Merely Useful Wasn't Enough
Jin leaned against the creaking wooden desk, staring down at his journal with determined eyes. It wasn't enough to be useful—to simply exist as a convenience. He aspired to be something far greater: indispensable.
He envisioned a future where his presence was not just beneficial but vital, where people relied on him completely and could not imagine succeeding without him.
For that purpose, Jin had spent the past year and a half meticulously saving every copper coin he earned. Each grueling day as a shoeshiner, each odd job completed, every resource he gathered—all of it fed into his dream. This was his seed money, the foundation for a new beginning.
"Phew… At least it's fortunate that Father works on a trade ship," Jin muttered to himself.
Had his father been home every day, Jin's life would have been vastly different. If his father had been a farmer, Jin would have been forced into the fields, his time consumed by endless toil. If he had been a shopkeeper, Jin would have spent his days hauling goods and tending to customers.
Instead, Jin lived in an era where sailors worked until death claimed them. It was a grim reality, but one that gave him the freedom he needed. Breadwinners in this time rarely earned enough to support their families, and Jin's father was no exception.
His main responsibility was his sister. Even this duty, however, was shared with kindhearted neighbors, thanks to the small sums of money his father gave them before departing on his long trips. His father's absences—lasting anywhere from two weeks to a month—gave Jin the perfect window to act on his plans.
"Brother, the lady next door gave us food! Come out and eat!"
His sister's cheerful voice broke through his thoughts. Jin smiled faintly, closing his journal.
"Okay, I'll be out in a minute!" he called back.
Sitting side by side at the table, the siblings shared their modest meal. While they didn't have meat every day, the variety of dishes on their plates was a small luxury for the era.
"Let's eat!"
"Let's eat."
Jin glanced at his sister as she happily dug into her food. Although he carried the memories of a different time, of a different man, this small girl was now his most precious and irreplaceable treasure.
For her, he could endure any frustration, any hardship. He would protect her, no matter the cost.
His resolve hardened once more, like steel forged in fire. To protect his loved ones, he needed to rise above the world itself.
The next morning, Jin left his sister in the care of the neighbor. It wasn't just practical; he thought it would be good for her to spend time with other children her age. She deserved moments of normalcy, away from the weight of his plans.
Jin's own destination, however, was far from ordinary: a Catholic orphanage.
In China, the concept of an orphanage was almost unheard of. Families often struggled to survive even in the best of times, let alone during famines. The idea of taking in and caring for orphans seemed absurd in such conditions.
But Hong Kong was different. Here, Catholic priests had established orphanages funded by donations and bolstered by carefully managed budgets. These institutions served a dual purpose: providing care for orphans and spreading Catholicism. The orphanages were as much a tool for religious promotion as they were sanctuaries for the vulnerable.
Despite their mixed intentions, Jin had to admit they were effective. Properly managed, the orphanages gave many children a chance at survival.
Unfortunately, not all stories were as hopeful. Incidents of child abductions and the trafficking of orphans to foreign lands had sparked outrage among the Qing population. Protests and backlash from citizens had forced many orphanages to close or reduce their operations.
Even those run by churches faced dwindling donations. People feared the judgment of their non-religious peers, hesitant to show support for such institutions openly.
Jin's thoughts darkened as he considered the fate of older boys in these orphanages.
Even in future Korea, where society was far more developed, orphanages faced the same grim reality. As children grew older, they were often forced to leave, their spots given to younger, more vulnerable newcomers.
By the time they reached thirteen, many boys understood they were no longer wanted. Expelled from the orphanages, they ended up in the shadows—working illegal jobs in back alleys, exploited as laborers, or worse.
To Jin, these boys weren't just victims of circumstance. They were an opportunity.
Young, desperate, and willing to do whatever it took to survive, they were the ideal candidates.
Jin's eyes gleamed with determination as he considered his plan. These boys would become his allies. His foundation. His army.
And with their help, he would ascend.