High In Pursuit

Chief Inspector Ryan, a man haunted by the color red, finds himself bleeding out, cornered by the enigmatic serial killer known as Doctor Jackal. Just as death's embrace tightens, a mechanical voice offers a bewildering escape: transmigration. Now, as the unassuming Dr. Zhang Wei, Ryan is thrust into a new world, tasked with altering fates and stopping a familiar, terrifying evil. But how can he fight a killer from his past when his new reality is already plagued by his own unsolved murder?

High In Pursuit

Chief Inspector Ryan, a man haunted by the color red, finds himself bleeding out, cornered by the enigmatic serial killer known as Doctor Jackal. Just as death's embrace tightens, a mechanical voice offers a bewildering escape: transmigration. Now, as the unassuming Dr. Zhang Wei, Ryan is thrust into a new world, tasked with altering fates and stopping a familiar, terrifying evil. But how can he fight a killer from his past when his new reality is already plagued by his own unsolved murder?

The crimson stain spread, a grotesque bloom around Ryan’s lifeless form. His chest, once a testament to life, now lay still, save for the phantom shudders that convulsed it. A guttural gasp, a desperate claw at breath, echoed in the suffocating silence. A lake of his own blood, horrifyingly red, pooled beneath him, gushing from the gaping wound in his neck.

He despised red. Every shade, every nuance, it invoked a primal urge to vomit, a cold sweat that drenched his skin. Even his therapist couldn't unravel the knot of aversion. He couldn't remember why, but the visceral reaction was always there, a constant companion.

“Are you still alive, Chief Inspector Ryan?” A gruff voice cut through the haze, chilling him to the bone. “You hate the red color with deep passion, but, I think, red color suited you the most, sir. You looked like a fine piece of art to me. A masterpiece.”

Art. For a psychotic killer. The insult ignited a last flicker of defiance in Ryan’s blurring eyes. He couldn't accept this defeat. He was so close. So frustrating! So despicable! He heard the killer's chilling chuckle, felt the caress of cold fingers on his pale cheek. “Because of that, I will give you the last gift. A farewell gift.”

“Fuck… you, crazy bastard…!” Ryan rasped, his voice barely a whisper.

Then, the cold hands were around his throat, squeezing, stealing the last vestiges of air. A futile struggle, a desperate claw. And then, a loud crack. Darkness swallowed him whole. His emerald eyes, once bright, dulled, became hollow abysses. His body went limp. "Rest in peace, my beloved Han Ryan."