Death Justice System

Chapter 2

59... 58... 57...

The red digital numbers flashed across Elias's retinas, counting down through the fractured silence of his fading consciousness. His body lay motionless on the cold floor of the St. Jude autopsy suite. Blood had already begun to pool beneath him, darkening the pale tiles around his head. The fluorescent lights above continued to hum with indifferent consistency, illuminating the room as if nothing had happened.

Elias could barely breathe. His vision had narrowed into a tunnel of light and shadow. Every heartbeat felt weaker than the last, each one dragging him closer toward the darkness waiting at the edge of his consciousness.

Yet, one thought remained painfully and abundantly clear. Marcus. The man who had stood over him. The man whose face showed absolutely no hesitation as he injected poison into his veins. The man Elias had trusted for ten years. The man he had called 'father'.

20... 19... 18...

Elias's fingers twitched against the cold floor. The memory returned with brutal clarity. Marcus's remarkably calm voice. The pressure of the syringe against his neck. The burning sensation that spread rapidly through his bloodstream. And those eyes—there was absolutely no regret in them. No hesitation. Only cold calculation.

Elias wanted to laugh, but his lungs could no longer produce enough air. Ten years. Ten years of devotion and loyalty. Ten years of solving the problems Marcus didn't want connected to his name. Ten years of protecting the man he believed had given him a second family when he had no one else. And this was how it ended. Not with gratitude. Not with an explanation. But with a lethal needle in his neck and his body discarded on a morgue floor.

5... 4... 3...

Elias's consciousness began to dissolve. Yet, beneath his physical weakness, something remained. Something far darker than mere fear. He didn't want to die. Not because he was afraid of death, but because Marcus had not yet earned the right to simply walk away from all this.

2...

Elias glared at the red numbers burning through the remnants of his vision. I am not finished.

1...

Marcus.

[Option B: Reinitialization Initiated.]

The world vanished instantly, then pain dragged him back. Elias jolted violently, gasping greedily for air. His lungs filled so suddenly that his chest burned. He rolled onto his side, coughing hard as his fingers desperately clawed at the mattress beneath him.

For a few seconds, he had absolutely no idea where he was. The ceiling above him was stained from water leaks, with cracks spreading across the pale paint like veins beneath the skin. A weak fluorescent light flickered near the doorway, casting an uncomfortable yellow glow across the cramped room.

Elias froze. He strained his hearing. There was no sound of a ventilator. No heart monitor. No faint footsteps of hospital staff. Instead, he heard the low hum of an aging air conditioner and the muffled sound of music coming from beyond the wall. His breathing gradually slowed. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Elias pushed himself up to sit, a movement that instantly sent a massive wave of dizziness crashing through his head. He stopped and waited for a moment. His body felt strange and heavy. His muscles lacked strength. His mouth was dry, his throat raw, and a deeply uncomfortable weakness spread through all his limbs.

Elias cast his gaze around the room. A narrow bed. A rickety desk. A wardrobe leaning slightly to one side. A plastic bottle with barely any water left. Several empty instant noodle cups. And a smartphone with a cracked screen. The room was small, poorly maintained, and smelled faintly of cigarette smoke, damp carpet, and something metallic.

Elias's eyes narrowed sharply. He looked down at his hands. They were not his hands. The realization hit him in the silence. His hands were thinner. Younger. His knuckles lacked the small scars he had accumulated over years of work. His fingers were long, but they lacked the familiar strength he had developed from countless hours in the autopsy suite. He raised one hand toward his face, and a tremor ran through it.

"What..." His own voice stopped him. That wasn't his voice, either.

Elias slowly stood up. His knees almost gave way under his weight, but he braced himself against the desk and stared into the cracked mirror hanging above the sink. A stranger stared back at him. Young. Pale. Too thin. Dark hair fell messily across his forehead. There were faint bruises along his cheekbones and beneath his jaw, while dark circles surrounded his eyes.

Elias studied the reflection for a few seconds. He didn't recognize the face. He didn't recognize the body. He didn't recognize this room, either. Yet strangely, none of it mattered in the slightest. His eyes lowered, and his mind returned to the last thing he had seen before death took him. Marcus. The image returned so vividly that Elias's breathing changed. His hand gripped the edge of the desk so tightly that the brittle wood creaked beneath his grasp. Marcus had killed him. That was the only fact that mattered.

Elias looked back at the unfamiliar reflection in the mirror. He had absolutely no idea whose body this was. He didn't know where he was. He didn't know why he was still alive. He didn't know what had happened between the moment of his death and this exact second. He didn't even know if this second life was a miracle, an experiment, or some elaborately designed punishment. He didn't care at all.

His jaw hardened. "Marcus Vance." The unfamiliar voice sounded far colder than he expected. His fingers curled tightly into a fist, shooting pain through his weak knuckles, but he welcomed the pain. The pain reminded him that he was conscious. That he was alive. Still capable of thinking, and still capable of remembering. Marcus might have believed that killing Elias would erase all his problems. He was dead wrong.

Elias didn't know whose life he had inherited. He didn't know what name this body carried. He didn't know if he had friends, enemies, family, or a mountain of debt waiting outside this room. All of those matters could wait. The first thing he was going to do was find Marcus. Then he would find out why. And when he did, Elias would make sure the man truly understood what it felt like to lose absolutely everything.

Suddenly, a strange blue light flickered at the edge of his vision. Elias's expression hardened.

[Host consciousness successfully synchronized.]

He stared at the text floating in the air. Another line appeared in its wake.

[Reinitialization complete.]

Elias didn't respond. The System continued its report.

[New Host identity confirmed.] [Adrian Kaelen.]

The name meant nothing to him. Elias looked away. Adrian Kaelen. Fine. For now, it was just the name attached to the body he occupied. He could handle the rest later.

A second notification appeared.

[Warning: Host physiological condition unstable.] [Physical stabilization: 41%.] [Immediate recommendation: Rest and nutritional intake.]

Elias almost scoffed. He had just returned from the dead, and whatever this thing in front of him was, its first concern was telling him to eat. "Later."

The blue interface remained unmoving before him.

[Recommendation remains active.]

"I said later." The interface vanished without a trace.

Elias turned back to look at the desk. His eyes landed on the cracked smartphone. If he wanted to find Marcus, he needed information. Names, contacts, dates, messages—anything could be useful. He reached out to grab the phone. However, when his fingers were mere centimeters from the device, a sharp pain suddenly pierced his temples.

Elias recoiled. The system screen flickered again.

[Identity Integrity Protocol activated.] [Unauthorized access to Host's personal records is prohibited.]

His eyes narrowed. The pain vanished instantly the moment he pulled his hand away. For a few seconds, Elias just stared straight at the phone, then he smiled faintly. "So, you have rules."

The System offered no response whatsoever. Elias didn't touch the device again, not because he was afraid, but because he had already learned enough. Whatever entity had brought him here, it had limitations. Limitations meant rules, and rules meant weaknesses.

He turned away from the desk. He could investigate Adrian Kaelen later.

Before he could think any further, a sound came from outside. Elias froze. Footsteps. Slow. Measured. Someone was walking down the corridor. The footsteps stopped right outside his room.

Elias's eyes moved slowly toward the door. A tense silence followed. He stood upright without making a sound. Then—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Three slow, deliberate knocks struck the thin wooden door. Elias didn't flinch. His hand slowly clenched into a fist.

"Adrian, are you in there?"