The morning air was cool and heavy with mist as it seeped through the cracks of the aged building. Jeok-Myung Jin lay sprawled across the floor, his mind lingering in the haziness of sleep. Abruptly, the serenity was shattered by a grating voice that pierced the veil of tranquility. “Hey, wake up,” it commanded with an edge that brooked no argument. “HEY, I SAID WAKE UP YOU PUNK!” The words were followed by a kick, sharp and unyielding, that thrust Jeok-Myung Jin into harsh reality.
Grimacing from the pain, Jeok-Myung Jin’s gaze flitted across the room, taking in the ominous figure that towered above him. The man was massive, his bald head a beacon in the dim light of dawn, his eyes alight with a cruel intent. “Got an issue, you punk?” he snarled, his stance aggressive, as if daring Jeok-Myung Jin to retort.
A second voice, smoother and composed, cut through the brewing storm. “Take it easy, would you? We can’t afford to damage the goods before delivery.”
Jeok-Myung Jin’s mind, now fully alert, raced as he studied his bindings and the grim faces of his captors. A startling realization washed over him. This wasn’t the luxurious expanses of his Master’s palace; this was something far more sinister. He glanced at his reflection in a stagnant pool of water and gasped. The face staring back at him was his own, yet it bore the unmistakable features of youth. An impossible thought took root: he had traversed the streams of time.
“Wait, if that’s the case, then this is…” His musings were cut short as the bald man’s voice boomed again. “Get up! Time’s wasting, and we’ve got a schedule to keep. Move!”
Pushing himself to his feet, Jeok-Myung Jin’s hands remained secured behind him, the coarse rope biting into his skin. A sardonic smile crept onto his face. If his memories served him right, and time had indeed turned back its hand, then these men were marching towards their demise. "If I truly have gone back in time, then they are taking us to the Demonic cult to be slaves. But unlucky for them, they don’t know they’re about to get killed soon."
Their procession was halted by an assertive shout. “STOP RIGHT THERE! What do you think you’re doing with those kids?”
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The bald man turned, irritation flaring in his eyes. “None of your damn business. Get lost if you know what’s good for you.”
The newcomer, a figure of defiance, challenged the captor. “I should've known – demonic worshippers. Snatching innocent lives for your vile purposes, just so you can keep your cult alive!”
Jeok-Myung Jin’s smirk widened. 'You’re finished, baldy. I can’t say it had been a pleasure to meet again.'
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The air grew tense as the bald man faced the newcomer, an agent of the Justice Faction. Their confrontation was more than a mere skirmish; it was an embodiment of their conflicting philosophies.
“You rely on such cowardly tricks and surprises!” the agent of justice proclaimed, his voice echoing with determination.
“Doesn't matter, the winner will write history!” the bald man retorted, his laughter cold as he launched another vicious assault.
Their combat was a spectacle of clashing wills, the bald man’s ferocity against the justice agent’s precision. The bald man swung wildly, his blade seeking the life of his opponent. But with a deftness born of experience, the agent of justice turned the tide, his own sword gliding through the air to deliver a grievous blow.
“Foul luck!” the bald man rasped, as blood began to blossom on his clothing.
“Lay down your arms. Your fight is over,” the justice agent urged, his stance unwavering yet not unkind.
“You think I’d trust the likes of you? You who parade around preaching justice?” the bald man sneered, his life slowly ebbing away.
“This is the end,” the agent declared, his Qi surging around him like a storm about to break.
Jeok-Myung Jin observed from the sidelines, his heart alight with dark amusement. 'The curtain falls for you, bald menace. My path, however, is just beginning anew. Beware, middle brother. This time, my revenge will be merciless.' His eyes sparkled with a mix of anticipation and vindictiveness, a lethal combination for those who stood in the way of his second chance at destiny.
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The bald man stumbled back, his steps faltering as the lifeblood seeped from his wound. The justice agent advanced, his blade an extension of his unwavering resolve. “Your path ends here, corrupted by darkness. May you find some semblance of peace in the hereafter,” he intoned.
Jeok-Myung Jin could hardly believe the spectacle before him. Here he was, a young man once more, witnessing the downfall of those who had once held him captive. The poetic justice of it all brought a cold smile to his lips.
“Mercy? Ha! I spit on your mercy,” the bald man choked out, his defiance undimmed even in the face of death.
The agent of justice paused, his blade poised for the final strike. “Then so be it. I take no pleasure in this, but justice demands retribution.”