**Fap…Fap…Fap**
Weird sounds could be heard from the room, accompanied by subtle grunts from a man.
"Onichan, please stop. We aren't supposed to do this; we're step-siblings,"
a high-pitched voice from the PC echoed.
"Yeah, yeah," the man whispered as the sounds of flesh slapping intensified.
You might be wondering who this guy is. Well, you guessed it—that's me, Edwin.
Suddenly, a louder grunt broke the rhythm, followed by complete silence. Edwin stretched his hand toward a paper towel placed beside his PC, wiped himself, and carelessly tossed it toward a trash bin in the corner. The bin overflowed with paper towels, littering the floor around it.
**Click, click.**
The man, seemingly in his 30s, continued scrolling through numerous videos, as though searching for something specific.
"'BDSM,' 'coming,' 'squirting,'" he muttered, leaning closer to the screen.
"Step-mom. Aha!" he exclaimed, as if discovering a hidden treasure, and clicked on the video. The screen flickered to life, and Edwin reached for baby oil, smearing it over his palms before focusing intently on the video.
After some time, he reached for another paper towel, cleaned himself up, and discarded it like the others.
"Ahhh… thirty," he sighed, leaning back in his chair. He closed all his incognito tabs and stared at his reflection on the dark screen.
"What's wrong with me?" he muttered to no one in particular. The emptiness of the room echoed his words. He was hit by a wave of self-loathing, a moment of post-clarity realization.
"Well, I'm a piece of trash. No use feeling this way. Guess I'd better hit the shower," he said, standing up.
But as soon as he did, the room began spinning.
"What's wrong with me?" he murmured, his hand reaching out to stabilize himself. He stumbled, then collapsed to the floor.
"F***… must've overdone it. Who does this over twenty times in a row? I'll be fine… just need to close my eyes for a bit," he mumbled, exhaustion overtaking him.
Moments from his life began flashing before his eyes.
"Ah, is this what they mean by your life flashing before you die? Am I really dying… like this? With my… y'know… sticking out? That's sad. Not like I haven't faced worse disgrace, but… must I be this shameless before I go?"
Tears welled up in his eyes as he continued to reflect.
"If I had one wish, it would be to right all my wrongs. I wouldn't be overweight. I'd talk to more women. I'd live life on my own terms," he thought as his heartbeat slowed for the last time.
**Ba-dum… ba-dum…**
"And that's how I died for the first time," Edwin narrated.
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As my heart stopped, it felt like my consciousness faded. Then, I was suddenly overwhelmed by cold and silence.
"Arghhh… what's that noise?" I groaned as my eyes fluttered open. The brightness around me made me blink a few times before my vision adjusted.
"Where the f*** am I?" I thought, looking around. A blurry, feminine figure hovered nearby. For some reason, my vision was unclear, which confused me. I had always been praised for my good eyesight before my death.
"Madam, take your child. It's a boy," a woman in a nurse's outfit said. At the time, I couldn't comprehend what was happening.
"Why hasn't he cried yet?" another voice asked.
"I know that voice," I thought.
"That's my mom! But she sounds younger and clearer."
Though I couldn't see her face well, I could tell from her voice that she must be beautiful.
I was handed to the figure I'd seen earlier, who gently rubbed my back and tickled my toes. It wasn't painful, just irritating. I tried to tell her to stop, but all that came out were incoherent screams, followed by tears.
As I cried, I was handed back to my mom. Seeing her up close for the first time made tears stream down my cheeks again. She kissed my forehead tenderly.
In my past life, I had disappointed her so much, but she had always believed in me, reminding me that I was a gift from God. I had been too lazy to repay her kindness.
Suddenly, something soft entered my mouth. The sensation was strange but comforting. The taste was indescribably good, and my body seemed to love it. Instinctively, I began sucking.
"Well, it seems I've been reborn," I thought to myself.
"There isn't much I can do with this tiny body. In fact, there's nothing at all. But one thing's for sure: I'm happy to have my mom back… and…"
Before I could finish my thought, exhaustion took over, and I drifted off to sleep. This body tired easily, and I couldn't fight it.
When I woke again, it seemed time had passed. The room was quiet, and I felt restricted by my small body. Hunger gnawed at me.
"F***, how do I ask for food?" I wondered. Before I could figure it out, I found myself crying again. Tears rolled down my cheeks, and soon enough, someone came to my aid
"What is all this? I open my mouth, and suddenly I'm crying, tears filling my eyes and rolling down my cheeks. They never mention this part in those reincarnation and regression manhwas and novels. It's so annoying."
I was a huge fan of anime. I watched everything that was anime-related. I bless the day I discovered it because it helped cure me of my depression. I might have been a piece of sh*t, but I felt truly safe while watching. It was as if the characters were speaking directly to me.
I also read manhwas. While I wasn't a big fan of reading novels—I preferred seeing the art drawn—I still wanted to be a writer. With all the knowledge I had, all the characters huh difficult to explain things clearly, and the reviews I got were far from what I had hoped for.
At first, I wrote for passion—describing fight scenes, building better worlds far removed from my own. Writing became my little escape from reality. But then I discovered that this passion could be monetized.
That's when it all went downhill. I stopped writing from the heart and began writing to please everyone, chasing deadlines and pandering to trends. On top of that, my addiction to explicit content consumed me, further distancing me from what truly mattered.
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