To be free from prison is a glory to behold. It is not just glory—it's grace.
And when a man who was meant to spend his whole life behind bars receives a presidential pardon, that is true glory.
Wen stood outside the prison gates, smiling brightly as he watched cars speeding by, their horns echoing across the road. He waited for a ride to take him home, if going home was even possible.
His children, Luna and Chun, would have called him a loser for not being there for them. He didn't expect to see them. He didn't expect anyone.
But still… something made him wait. Something told him that someone—someone who missed him—would come for him.
Wen stood like one of the police officers, using only his sharp eyes to watch the fast‑moving vehicles.
Then he turned to the right, shocked to see a polished red car approaching him.
He watched it sway from side to side like the driver couldn't control it.
Inexperienced driver, he thought.
The car stopped right in front of him, kicking up dust into his face. Wen waved it away, coughing lightly.
The window slid down, revealing a dark‑skinned man with dreadlocks and sunglasses that covered a bruised face.
"Mike…" Wen whispered as the face unlocked an old memory.
He could never forget Mike—his closest friend. They ran the same hood together, which they named "Raspberry." But when Wen got arrested, Mike had been the first to run like a coward… and the first to stand against him in court, accusing him of murder.
So why was he here?
To mock him?
The car door swung open, inviting Wen inside.
"What do you want?" Wen asked sharply, his fists slowly tightening.
"Please… get in," Mike said, breathing heavily like someone who had been running.
"I will never enter a betrayer's car," Wen snapped and turned to leave—
until Mike lifted his shirt, revealing a bomb strapped around his stomach.
"Please… don't let my family die," Mike pleaded.
Wen stared in shock… then let out a bitter laugh.
"Wait," Wen said, stepping closer to inspect the device. "You think I'm foolish? You want me to enter the car so the bomb can kill me, right?"
He gripped the car angrily, staring into Mike's eyes before turning away.
He began to walk off. Mike shouted his name again and again, the sound floating into the air—until one shout landed perfectly, making Wen freeze.
"I guess that one hit the right spot," Mike said.
Wen stood still, listening.
"If I take one more step, I'll explode, Wen. You know this kind of bomb."
Wen's mind flashed back to their last mission—to kill the gangster king, Mr. Macroll. A mission that ended with Wen in prison… and Mike betraying him.
"I don't believe you," Wen said, turning back, studying Mike's position.
"Your brother told me to give you this."
Mike raised an envelope high.
"My brother is dead," Wen growled. "You won't deceive me again."
"You have to believe me. Just take the letter. That's all I want."
Mike lifted the envelope again.
"If you don't, my family dies. Please."
Wen looked back at the prison he had just left. The police watched him closely; one even tried to listen, but they were too far away. Wen replayed Mike's words in his mind.
"I will never be fooled a second time," Wen said firmly, turning away.
Out of fear, Mike took a single step.
"BOOM!"
A bright flash swallowed the whole area. A powerful wave of air slammed into Wen and threw him to the ground.
He smiled weakly.
He hadn't been fooled again.
Or so he thought.
Something landed lightly on his head.
Wen reached up and picked it—the same envelope Mike had been holding. Police sirens wailed, officers shouting and running toward him.
His hands trembled as he opened the envelope.
Inside was a tiny sheet of gold-painted paper with one white space in the middle… and one single word written in the handwriting of his twin brother, Wren—the brother who died because of his dangerous lifestyle.
Wen's heart pounded.
He read the word silently, then said it aloud:
"Run."
He heard the officers' footsteps racing toward him.
"He's the one! He killed him!" someone shouted.
Before Wen could speak or defend himself, something hard struck the back of his head. He collapsed.
Wen woke up to a blurry world. His head ached. As his vision cleared, the room around him felt strangely familiar—the television, the flower‑decorated chair, the kitchen, every corner.
He stood shakily, bumping into a vase which fell and shattered.
He bent down to gather the pieces… and froze.
This was the same vase he once stole to decorate his home.
Wait… am I in my house?
He turned around quickly—but before he could think, something cold touched the back of his head.
A metal object.
"If you move," a deep voice said behind him, "I will break your skull with a bullet."
Wen trembled.