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Books For Moms

Reincarnated as a Goblin... and My Mom’s an Elf?!

Kaito was never given a choice. An orphan with no family, no warmth, and no future — the cold hands of an assassination organization shaped his life. Stripped of emotions and molded into a weapon, he lived only to kill, following the twisted orders of the one he called "Mom." She was never his mother — just a manipulative figure who saw him as nothing more than a tool. He became their most feared assassin — sharp, precise, and merciless. Yet in the end, his greatest strength became his curse. Out of fear of his talent, "Mom" betrayed him. Alone and bleeding out, Kaito’s world faded to black. But death wasn’t the end. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself in a new world — a body too small, too frail — and yet, he remembered everything. Memories of bloodshed and betrayal haunted him. Before he could make sense of it, he saw her — his mother. She wasn’t a commanding voice or a cruel manipulator — she was warm yet fragile, gentle yet strong. An elf mother, trembling as goblin cubs swarmed her, powerless to stop them. Something inside Kaito snapped. He didn’t think. He didn’t hesitate. He slaughtered the creatures without mercy — blood splattering the earth beneath his tiny feet. When it was over, he turned to her — battered, bruised, yet still trying to smile for her child. “Are you my mother?” he asked, his voice almost breaking. In her exhausted, teary gaze, he saw something he'd never known before — unconditional love. For the first time in two lives, Kaito knew what it meant to have someone worth protecting — not out of duty, not because of orders — but because she was his mother. And no one would ever hurt her again. No one.
Flowerhead_Evan · 11.3K Views

For Me, For Us, For Everyone

Cigarette smoke curls in the stagnant air, the dim glow of a dying bulb casting twisted shadows against the walls littered with half-torn articles and red-thread connections. Somewhere between the ink-stained papers and the scattered pills, a man sits—silent, unmoving, staring blankly at a stuffed monkey in a clown suit. A detective, they call him. A man of justice, a solver of mysteries. But behind the applause and empty praises, behind the sharp smiles and hollow congratulations, he is nothing but a walking contradiction—one hand holding a case file, the other exchanging cash for little plastic sachets. His mind is a labyrinth of voices, whispers that coil around his thoughts like suffocating vines. His brother grins at him from the corners of his vision, eyes glinting with the truth he refuses to face. His father’s voice is gentle, forgiving—too forgiving. Too much for a man who doesn’t deserve it. Each pill swallowed is another step into the illusion, another moment of stolen happiness before the weight of reality drags him under. He walks the city streets, drowning in faces that admire him, loathe him, see him as something he is not. He is both a hero and a villain, a detective and a criminal, a man trying to outrun the past while shackled to its corpse. And at the end of the night, when the echoes of the world fall away, all that remains is the darkness, the whispers, and the suffocating truth—he can never escape them.
Zeisn · 0 Views
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