Isn't he already dead? Died in the K. K. Park, which is called "purgatory on earth", in a pit like a mass grave?
He lifted his hands tremblingly, intact. There were no broken bones, no dense cigarette scars, and no black marks from electric shocks. The skin even looks a little pale from lack of exercise.
He jumped up from the bed and rushed to the cracked mirror.
In the mirror was a young but somewhat haggard face, with messy hair, and eyes full of fear, confusion, and a kind of madness that even he felt unfamiliar with, the aftermath of a disaster.
This time, the roles of hunter and prey have to change.
He let go and the curtains fell, shrouding him in darkness again.
Revenge has begun.
