Michael stared for a long moment, half wondering if he was still asleep.
Was this place a part of his subconscious?
He looked around—the world around him was bathed in a soft pink glow, with endless rows of sakura trees stretching out on either side, their petals drifting lazily through the air.
"Hmm, let me test something out," he muttered.
Michael approached one of the trees, reaching out carefully before pressing his hand against the trunk.
It was strange—he could feel the rough texture beneath his fingertips, yet it felt distant, almost like touching something through a thick veil.
Then a sudden gust of wind blew behind him, nearly knocking him off his feet.
Catching himself just in time, he turned to look over his shoulder.
There, a narrow stone path appeared, lined with rows of Torii gates that stretched into the distance, winding their way up the side of a mountain.
Okay, if this were a movie, this would be the part where the idiot follows a creepy trail and ends up dead. Who knows—that could be my fate too.
He sighed, can't believe he was going to do this, but curiosity got the better, and he stepped forward.
With every step he took, the lanterns along the trail flickered to life one by one, guiding him higher, farther from the forest below.
When he finally reached the top, he found a stone wall, and in its center stood a red gate marked with strange symbols. There, painted across the middle, was an image of a wolf.
At first glance, he thought it might be a fox, but no—it looked far more like a wolf, which made sense. Wolves had always been his favorite animal, after all.
Stepping closer, he hesitated for a moment. Should he open it? What harm could it do?
Michael lingered in uncertainty, weighing the decision, before finally reaching out and grasping the handle.
Slowly, the gate creaked open.
Beyond it, he saw a wooden bridge stretching over a serene body of water, its surface shimmering under the soft light. And on either side of the bridge stood stone statues of wolves, their silent gazes fixed forward.
More wolves, huh?
He paused for a moment, admiring the statues before moving on, following the stone path as it wound deeper into a vibrant garden. Koi fish glided lazily through the clear waters beside him, and colorful flowers swayed in the soft, whispering breeze, filling the air with a sweet, calming fragrance.
Walking deeper into the garden, Michael followed the winding stone path, his steps slow and cautious as he took in the surreal beauty around him.
Soon, he found himself standing before a shrine—its roof a brilliant shade of crimson, just like the ones he had seen in anime.
But what caught his attention most was the door at the center. Strange seals were pasted across the door like strips of paper.
"This is it? I thought there'd be something crazier up here," Michael muttered.
He approached the door, eyeing the strange seals plastered across it—meant to keep something locked inside.
Without a second thought, he reached for one and tried to tear it off. It resisted, clinging stubbornly to the wood, but after a tense struggle, he managed to rip it free.
The moment he did, the ground trembled violently.
The dreamscape around him shattered like glass, and everything was swallowed by darkness.
Michael jolted awake, his chest heaving. For a brief moment, his eyes shimmered with an amber-green glow before slowly fading back to their usual brown.
He touched his forehead, his heart racing.
Seems to be that it was a dream, he was still in the Bulldogs' cells
What the hell is wrong with me?
Ever since his parents passed away, weird things had been happening—first the whispering, then the strange dreams, and now he was dreaming of shrines.
What was that place even supposed to mean?
And why were there seals on that door—what did they mean?
Then, without warning, a searing pain tore through his chest, as if flames were consuming him from the inside out.
He stumbled back, gasping for air, and let out a heavy, shuddering breath.
But just as quickly as the pain had come, it vanished, leaving only a lingering heat.
"What the hell? For a second there, I thought I was having a heart attack!"
Before he could even process what had just happened, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall, growing louder with each step.
Michael tensed, bracing himself for whoever was coming.
"Well, I didn't expect you to come back like this, old friend," a voice drawled with a sarcastic tone.
Michael glared at the figure.
"We're not friends, Isaac," he snapped, biting his tongue to hold back the flood of insults he wanted to hurl. Isaac was a snake, and Michael wasn't in the mood for conversation, especially not with him.
"My, and here I thought we were the best of friends," Isaac grinned smugly.
"Get to the point," Michael growled.
Isaac chuckled darkly. "The boss wants us to rough you up a little—get some nice pictures. So be a good little dog, huh?"
Michael let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "Oh, I get it now. You couldn't beat me in the ring, so you're trying to beat me while I'm tied up? Pathetic."
He shook his head, glaring at Isaac with pure disgust.
"You're a damn disappointment, Isaac. Always have been. A loser, through and through. And now that I'm the one down, you're finally brave enough to act tough? You're pathetic."
Michael didn't care about anything else at that moment. He knew his sister was too smart to fall into whatever trap they had planned. She had the agency behind her, and Jade would no doubt be right by her side. He had nothing to worry about—at least, not for her.
The bastards knew it too. That's why all they could do now was beat him senseless and hope they'd still get their money.
"You hear me, Isaac?" Michael growled, his voice raw with fury. "I'm going to kill you."
"You know, it's a real shame about your mother and her cancer," Isaac said, his voice dripping with fake sympathy. "Makes me wonder… how come the insurance didn't cover any of the costs? Strange, isn't it?"
Michael's eyes snapped wide open, a surge of fury boiling in his veins. Those bastards.
They planned this—pushing him to the edge, waiting for him to come crawling, begging for scraps so they could crush him even further.
His hands curled into fists so tight his knuckles cracked. Filthy, rotten scum, he seethed. They're worse than monsters. They're parasites.
Before Michael could respond, something shifted—just for a moment. A low, eerie whisper brushed past his ears, barely audible, but enough to make him tense.
Alert! Alert!
Isaac's phone rang, the shrill tone cutting through the air like a siren.
Michael recognized it instantly.
A rift was opening.
The ground rumbled beneath his feet, and the temperature dropped sharply, a cold chill crawling over his skin.
What the hell—of all times, why is a Rift opening now?!
"Holy shit!" Isaac's face twisted in mute panic before he bolted, fear flashing in his eyes.
"Wait, you bastard! Don't leave me here!" Michael shouted, slamming his fists against the cell bars.
He watched in disbelief as Isaac disappeared down the hallway.
Michael's hands trembled.
This is it, huh?
Before he could lay his hands on them—on every last one of the bastards responsible, on the ones who might've even targeted his mother because of him—Michael.
He collapsed back onto the cold, filthy cell floor. Staring up at the cracked ceiling, his chest hollow, his fists limp at his sides.
He let out a shaky breath, the sting of tears burning his eyes. I should've never joined that damn gang. I was stupid. I was selfish.
A broken sniff escaped him. Even if the monsters didn't tear him apart… the Void will.
He stared up at the ceiling, watching as cracks split across it like spiderwebs. Dust rained down, and chunks of concrete began to fall.
A trembling breath escaped him as he lay back against the cold floor, feeling the vibrations of the building's death throes through his bones.
He closed his eyes, ready to let go.
But just before the end, one face pushed through the haze of fear and pain.
Rani.
His little sister. Her smile, her stubbornness, her laugh—everything he wanted to protect.
A lump formed in his throat.
I'm sorry, Rani. Please… live a good life.
A tear slipped from the corner of his eye, just as the world around him came crashing down.