Chapter 4 Into a New Body
The cold handcuffs bit into Marcus’s wrists as the guards dragged him toward the prison transport van. Reginald kept shouting his name, but Marcus refused to look back.
If he possessed any power at all, he would have ended this betrayal right there.
All hope seemed gone as the van doors slammed shut.
“Am I really going to prison?” he whispered, still in disbelief. Two silent tears escaped.
He had just been sentenced to eight years imprisonment, all thanks to his greedy uncle that betrayed him.
Seventy two hours ago, he still had his life, his wife and his job but everything got scrubbed and collapsed within a twinkle of an eye.
Elena smirked as she walked closer to her. His eyes went straight to her finger, and realized her wedding ring had been replaced with the new engagement ring from his uncle.
“What are you doing here?” He questioned with his cold voice.
Elena ignored him and walked further. “Why are you so stubborn? Why can't you just apologize to your uncle for stressing him and release that Codex to appreciate him for bringing you this far? But if you wanna try to prove stubborn then it's okay by us, with or without you, he will find that book and make a good use of it”
“You scumbag!” He annoyingly cursed.
“Chill, ex-husband, rest well in the prison but you do not need to worry about your things here, I'll sell them off as my pay off gift for wasting my time with you and when your uncle eventually finds the Codex, he will make good use of it and I'll make sure he donated to the prison from the money made from it” then she laughed.
“Bitch! I dare you to touch my property!” He yelled, losing his patients but the guards ignored his despair and immediately dragged him into their van.
Barely one hour into that journey, Marcus heard a loud noise from the driver like something was happening on the road but he couldn't see it.
Suddenly, a deafening crash shook the vehicle and the van rocked violently.
Before anyone could react, a massive truck slammed into them from the overpass above. The driver lost control, and everything tumbled.
“What's going on? Help!” Marcus screamed and before he knew what was happening, everything went black.
The steady beeping of machines pulled him back to consciousness. His head throbbed and the room was dim.
“What happened?” he thought, trying to sit up but feeling strangely heavy.
A young woman in a white coat approached “Hi, are you awake?” She checked the monitors.
Reality hit , he was in a hospital. Relief washed over him as he remembered the accident.
“How bad are my injuries? Any internal damage or vascular complications?” he asked.
His own voice sounded completely foreign.
“Wait , what happened to my voice?” he said, sitting up abruptly but screamed as the headache hit him again.
“Careful! You could collapse again,” the intern warned, while helping him to lay back on the bed.
He swung his legs off the bed and caught his reflection in a nearby glass panel. The face staring back was not his own.
Different skin tone, different features, taller build , but his consciousness was inside this stranger’s body.
He stumbled backward and fell.
“How did I get here?” he muttered.
“You don’t remember?” the intern asked gently and he shook his head negatively.
“You’re Ethan Voss. You stormed out of the house after arguing with your father and were involved in a club-related incident that led to the crash.”
“This can’t be real. I’m losing my mind,”
Marcus whispered in Ethan’s body.
The intern, worried he was having a neurological episode, called for backup.
Two senior doctors rushed in.
“Mr. Voss, how are you feeling? Scans look clear, but tell us if anything feels off,” one doctor said.
“My voice,my face, my …” Marcus trailed off as he examined his new hands and smooth, well-cared-for skin.
They gently but firmly returned him to the luxurious VIP suite.
“Looks like partial retrograde amnesia,” one doctor noted.
“The Chief will handle this when he returns.”
“His father won’t tolerate any mistakes,” the intern added quietly.
“He already threatened to fly him abroad for treatment if we can’t fix this.”
Rich father? Marcus thought. This body’s life is completely different.
“Quick question,” he said, clearing his throat.
“The accident , were there other victims? A prison transport van?”
“One doctor was involved and is now in a coma. Two guards had minor injuries, but one didn’t make it,” she answered sadly.
Marcus’s blood ran cold. His original body was in a coma while his soul had somehow transferred.
The door opened. A distinguished man in his mid-fifties rushed in, face lighting up with relief.
“My son!” he exclaimed, pulling Marcus (in Ethan’s body) into an embrace.
The man’s face triggered a vague memory. When the wall-mounted TV showed a news clip of the same man speaking at a major corporate su
mmit, Marcus blurted out:
“The Chairman of the National Medical Consortium?”
He was shocked!
