Young Marchis wore an unfathomable expression on his face. What had happened was beyond explanation. If he were to tell anyone about it, they would either dismiss him as insane or laugh at what they would assume to be childish delusion. After all… he was still a twelve-year-old.
"Huh… I had almost forgotten the feeling of being young again."
Marchis quickly sat cross-legged and began examining his body. He carefully inspected his eyes, ears, nose, and every limb to ensure there was nothing amiss. There was no defect, no weakness—everything was perfectly intact.
"Looks like the heavens have pitied me enough not to burden me with any disability. Hehe…"
"Now that I have been granted a second chance, I shall not squander it. I will soar above the entire world and stand at the pinnacle of everything. Let me begin by setting short-term goals…"
"Hmm… This will do."
Young Marchis scribbled into his diary. His first objectives were simple yet ambitious: physical fitness and earning 100,000 Aurons (1 Auron = 10 dollars).
The pursuit of physical fitness was manageable… but 100,000 Aurons? Almost impossible for an ordinary child.
So why was he so confident?
Because his consciousness originated from the future… he possessed knowledge of events yet to unfold—stocks that would skyrocket, bets that would overturn empires, and opportunities invisible to the present world.
"Hmm… I'm still twelve. I can't open a bank account unless… hehe."
A sinister smile curved upon the young boy's lips as he glanced at the date. It was merely ten days before a wealthy man would take his own life. The man had no heirs, no family to inherit his fortune. Loneliness had consumed him entirely.
Marchis knew exactly where the man lived.
He slowly approached the luxurious estate and observed the man sitting alone outside.
"In the end, loneliness is the only chain preventing a man from achieving greatness… hmm. He appears exhausted. Now is not the time. I will return tonight."
As soon as Marchis returned home, he descended into the basement. He picked up a hammer and struck his shoulder and abdomen repeatedly, allowing himself to fall several times to fabricate the appearance of having been brutally beaten.
Was he insane?
"I merely need his sympathy. A touch of fabricated suffering… a glimpse of intelligence… enough to convince him that I am alone in this world. It's unfortunate my parents will return in a few days. I almost forgot their arrival date…"
When he finished, his body was covered in bruises. The pain was excruciating, yet his expression remained indifferent. Not even a flicker of hesitation crossed his mind.
That night, he deliberately lay near the wealthy man's residence.
Within minutes, the man rushed toward him and carried the battered child inside.
At that very moment… Marchis chuckled inwardly.
"I have successfully infiltrated."
Author's Note:
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