Chapter 7:Flashbacks

The rhythmic hum of the helicopter blades filled the cabin, a steady reminder of the journey Goto Suguru was on. As he gazed out of the window, the endless expanse of ocean stretched beneath him, the waves below catching the light as far as the eye could see. But Goto's mind wasn't on the water—it was drifting back to memories he hadn't touched in years.

His childhood felt like a distant dream, blurry at the edges but still sharp enough to sting. His parents had divorced when he and his brother Osamu were young, and both were left in the custody of their mother. She came from a powerful conglomerate family, one that only cared about results, appearances, and power. From as far back as he could remember, their expectations weighed heavily on him, their demands suffocating him, forcing him into a mold he had no interest in fitting.

His father, on the other hand, had always been a mystery. Goto knew little about his background, but he knew one thing for sure—his father had always cared about him and Osamu. It was thanks to his father's friends that Goto had been able to carve out a small space for himself, learning taekwondo in secret. His time practicing martial arts was the only thing that gave him a sense of freedom, of control. It was his escape, and soon enough, he became incredibly skilled, earning the nickname "Spinning Genius" for his swift and devastating kicks.

Taekwondo wasn't just a hobby for him; it was a way to survive. Goto regularly got into fights with thugs, using his skills to take down entire crews of street toughs. Over time, he built his own network, gathering a small crew of loyal fighters. He had power in the streets, and it was a world where he thrived, one he had built outside of the control of his family. This was long before he and Si Mok's crew ever crossed paths, back when Goto was still a young genius both in the dojo and the classroom.

Academically, Goto was miles ahead of his peers, a fact that only his father knew. His father hid this from Goto's mother, protecting him from the ever-tightening grip of the family's expectations. One of his father's friends, an engineer in a major weapons manufacturing company, saw potential in Goto's sharp mind. Goto began learning about aeronautical engineering, a skill he kept hidden from his mother's side of the family. This knowledge was his secret weapon, something that belonged only to him.

But all of that came crashing down one day.

Goto had overheard that his uncle, the head of the family, was plotting to trick him into signing a contract with a major entertainment company. The company was notorious for exploiting its employees, and Goto knew that once he was trapped, there would be no escape. His uncle thought he could control Goto like he controlled everyone else in the family. He was wrong.

Goto stole one of his crew member's bikes and followed his uncle in secret, tracking him to a heavily secured villa. When he arrived, bodyguards blocked his path, but Goto dispatched them with ease. His fists and feet moved with precision, his strikes devastating. Inside the villa, he found his entire family gathered. His uncle, cousins, everyone. One of his cousins approached him, insulted him, and slapped him across the face. Laughter echoed through the room, cold and mocking, as if Goto were nothing more than a pawn in their little game.

Without a word, Goto grabbed his cousin's arm and, with a quick twist, broke it cleanly. The laughter died instantly, replaced by shocked gasps. But Goto wasn't done. Bodyguards swarmed him, but they were no match for his speed and skill. He tore through them like they were nothing, leaving a trail of groaning bodies in his wake.

Then, one by one, Goto went to each of his family members and broke their arms, regardless of gender or age. His message was clear: he wouldn't be controlled. He left only the few members who had treated him with kindness unharmed, but when he reached his mother, even she wasn't spared. He shattered her arm without hesitation, his eyes cold and unfeeling.

Finally, he turned to the family head—his uncle—the man who had orchestrated the entire scheme. Goto beat him until he was unrecognizable, and it was only his father's intervention that stopped him from killing the man right then and there.

His father didn't yell, didn't scold him. Instead, he quietly helped Goto escape. He arranged for him to get a UK citizenship, allowing Goto to leave the country before things got worse. At just sixteen years old, Goto joined the British Navy, a new chapter in his life beginning far away from the family that had tried to crush him.

The memories faded as Goto's phone buzzed in his pocket. He shook off the haze of the past and answered.

"Yeah?" he said, his voice rough.

"We've got it," the voice on the other end said. "Si Mok's new identity is ready."

"Send it over," Goto replied. "I'll give it to him in person."

As the call ended, Goto glanced out the helicopter window. In the distance, he could see the fleet of aircraft carriers coming into view. His helicopter began its descent, landing smoothly on the deck. The admiral of the fleet greeted him as he stepped out, but Goto barely acknowledged him. His mind was elsewhere, already focused on his next move.

He walked through the bustling hangar, the noise of machinery and personnel filling the air. Somewhere far away, on a quiet cliff, Si Mok and the rest of the old crew sat, waiting. Osamu was the first to receive a message, his phone lighting up with a notification. It was from Goto.

"He's ready to meet," Osamu said, showing the others the message. "At Man Ho's place."