Maximus Darn felt the world closing in, his body numb, vision swallowed by darkness. The shuffling drag of his own body echoed in his ears, every jostle sending a fresh ripple of agony through his battered limbs. Memories seared through his mind—loss, grief, and the cold resolve that followed, shaping him into the man everyone feared. Even now, humiliation lingered, recalling the ridiculous origins of the White Tiger Gang, as if fate had always intended to mock him.
The figure yanked Maximus upright by the hair, forcing him to squint through the haze of blood blurring his sight. Masked Figure’s voice was low, mocking, tinged with an inexplicable familiarity. "Still cracking jokes, even now? I can’t believe someone like you led the White Tiger Gang. Pathetic, really." Each word dripped with venom, making Maximus question whether his executioner was a stranger or someone from his own inner circle.
With one last, brutal kick, the figure sent Maximus tumbling backward. Ice-cold water rushed into his mouth, flooding his senses as he sank beneath the surface, the world dissolving into muffled chaos. Rage boiled inside him, desperate questions clawing for answers—who betrayed him, and why? As the light faded, so did his hope of ever knowing the truth.
Agony exploded in Maximus’s skull, sharper than any wound he’d endured. He fought to move, to scream, to open his eyes, but his body refused to obey. Distant voices pressed in—urgent, commanding, alien. Authoritative Voice barked, "You will do everything in your power to save Max Stern. The Stern family will pay whatever it takes. Fail, and none of you should bother returning tomorrow."
Awareness trickled back to Maximus, but something was wrong. The name they used—Max Stern—hung in the air, alien and all too familiar at once. He tried to move, and this time, a finger twitched. Panic warred with confusion as the reality set in: gone was the notorious gang leader, replaced by the heir to a fortune, surrounded by people who barely knew his history. How could this be? Was this a second chance—or a new prison?
The weight of the Stern name pressed on Maximus’s chest as he stared at his reflection, the features not quite his own. The world outside buzzed with the news of his miraculous recovery, oblivious to the man who now inhabited this privileged shell. Memories of betrayal, violence, and loss haunted him, but so did the intoxicating promise of power—real power this time, not clawed from the gutter but inherited, absolute. Would he use this new life to seek vengeance, redemption, or something else entirely? The future was a blank check, signed in blood and billions.
