The night was heavy with silence. Hùng sat alone in a dimly lit room, his eyes locked onto an old photograph he had pulled from a forgotten drawer. The edges were frayed, worn thin from time, and the image itself was blurred slightly from years of handling. It showed a younger version of himself—Hùng, before the betrayal, before his world had fallen apart—alongside Thu. They stood together in the photo, their smiles wide and genuine, unaware of the disaster that would one day sever the bond they thought unbreakable.

His fingers traced the outline of Thu’s face on the photograph, the memories flooding back, uninvited yet unstoppable. He couldn’t help but think back to those early years. The laughter, the plans for a future they would never have. It seemed so far away now, as if it had all belonged to someone else, to another life. And in a way, it had. Hùng had died once—killed by the very people he had loved, his body left to rot while Thu and her lover took everything he had worked for. But this time, things were different.

"This was before," Hùng whispered, his voice barely audible over the quiet hum of the old refrigerator in the corner of the room. "Before the lies, before the betrayal."

He let the photo slip from his hands and fall onto the table. It landed with a soft thud, but to Hùng, it might as well have been a thunderclap in the stillness of the night. The reminder of what he had lost, of the life he had once held so dear, gnawed at him like an open wound that refused to heal.

Outside, the rain had begun to slow, the once torrential downpour now reduced to a soft patter against the windows. The smell of wet earth and the cool, damp air filled the room as Hùng sat there, lost in thought. It had been weeks since he had awoken in Tấn’s body, weeks since he had been given a second chance. But time was running short. Quân was already starting to sniff around, and it wouldn’t be long before he put the pieces together.

Hùng stood up, pushing the chair back with a slow creak. He paced the room, his mind racing with thoughts of revenge, but also with memories of his past life. Every step he took seemed to echo the tension building inside him. He thought of his daughter, alone in the orphanage, unaware of what had happened to her father. The pain of that loss was sharper than any betrayal.

The First Move

The phone on the table buzzed, pulling Hùng out of his reverie. He glanced at the screen. It was Vinh.

“Meet me tomorrow at the old warehouse. I’ve got something important. Don’t be late.”

Hùng stared at the message, his mind already churning. Vinh had been useful so far, an ally with connections in all the right places. But he didn’t fully trust the man. Not yet. There was something about Vinh, a certain glint in his eyes, that made Hùng wary. Nevertheless, Vinh was a necessary piece in this game, and Hùng knew he had to play his cards carefully.

The warehouse was located on the outskirts of the city, a forgotten place that had once been bustling with activity but now stood as little more than a shadow of its former self. Hùng had met Vinh there a few times already—always in the dead of night, always in secret. It was a place where no one asked questions.

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The next day, the sky was overcast, the heavy clouds hanging low as if threatening to burst open at any moment. Hùng made his way to the warehouse, his footsteps steady but his thoughts far from calm. The air smelled of rain and rust, the kind of smell that lingered in abandoned places, where time seemed to move differently.

As Hùng approached, he could see Vinh’s silhouette standing near the entrance, his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his jacket. Vinh always seemed nervous, like a man constantly looking over his shoulder. And today, he looked worse than usual.

“You’re late,” Vinh said as Hùng approached, his voice tight with impatience.

“I’m here now,” Hùng replied coolly. “What’s so urgent?”

Vinh glanced around before motioning for Hùng to follow him inside. The warehouse was dark and musty, the kind of place where secrets could be buried forever. Once they were far enough from the entrance, Vinh turned to Hùng, his expression grim.

“Quân knows.”

Quân’s Discovery

Hùng’s heart skipped a beat. For a moment, the world around him seemed to freeze. He had been careful, methodical even. How could Quân have found out? He clenched his fists at his sides, forcing his voice to remain calm despite the storm of anger brewing inside him.

“How?” Hùng asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Vinh shook his head. “I don’t know. He’s been asking questions, poking around. Whatever you did, it got his attention.”

The words settled like a lead weight in Hùng’s chest. He had wanted Quân to suffer, to live in fear, but now that the man was aware of the danger, things were going to move faster than he had anticipated. The game had changed, and Hùng needed to adapt.

“This doesn’t change anything,” Hùng said after a long pause. “We keep going. But we need to be smart about it.”

Vinh raised an eyebrow. “Smart? Quân’s not just some street thug, you know. He’s got connections—people in high places. If he feels cornered, he’ll lash out.”

“Let him,” Hùng replied, his eyes cold. “I want him to.”

There was a moment of silence between them as Vinh considered Hùng’s words. Finally, he nodded, though there was still doubt in his eyes.

“Fine,” Vinh said, stubbing out his cigarette on the ground. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you. Quân’s a dangerous man.”

“So am I.”

The Calm Before the Storm

The meeting with Vinh had left Hùng more determined than ever, but it had also heightened the tension. Quân knowing meant that the timeline for his revenge was shrinking, and he needed to act soon before Quân made his move first.

The following days were a blur of planning and reconnaissance. Hùng spent hours tailing Quân, learning his every move, his routines, his vulnerabilities. Quân was careful, but not careful enough. There were moments—brief windows of opportunity—where Hùng could strike, where he could finish what he had started.

One night, as he sat in the small apartment that now served as his base, Hùng’s thoughts drifted back to Thu. She had been quieter lately, more cautious, but still playing her part. The guilt she had once shown, the hesitations in her actions, had all but disappeared now. She was fully entrenched in Quân’s world, and that made her just as dangerous.

Outside, the rain had returned, falling in sheets against the windows. Hùng stood by the glass, watching the water run down in rivulets, distorting the view of the city beyond. His mind wandered, contemplating his next move, when a sudden knock on the door shattered the silence.

Unexpected Visitors

Hùng’s heart raced as he crossed the room, his hand instinctively reaching for the knife he kept hidden under the table. He opened the door cautiously, only to find Vinh standing there, drenched from the rain.

“You need to see this,” Vinh said, his voice urgent.

Hùng let him in without a word, closing the door quickly behind them. Vinh pulled out his phone and handed it to Hùng, his expression grim.

“It’s about Quân.”

On the screen was a message—one that sent a chill down Hùng’s spine. It was from one of Vinh’s contacts, a man who worked closely with Quân. The message was simple, but its meaning was clear: “We’ve got him. It’s time.”

“They’re coming for you, Hùng,” Vinh said quietly. “You need to act now, or it’s over.”