On record, the earliest a baby ever started walking is within three months. Daisuke shattered that record by a whole fifteen days. It was a shame the Guinness World Record had no p this world, wherever it might be.

  “Oh, my goddess!” Daisuke’s mother excimed in a mix of shod delight, dropping to her knees with arms outstretched. “Haxks! You’re not even three months old yet; how you already be walking?!”

  With a smug smile, Daisuke waddled into her arms, and she hugged him affeately.

  “Good job! Mommy’s little boy is so smart,” she cooed in baby talk. “I’m so proud of you!”

  Daisuke’s eyes sparkled. At the back of his mind, he somewhat felt like a cheat, being essentially a young adult ihe body of a baby. Yet, the shower of pliments and attention stirred a warm quiver in his heart.

  “I know the world must be tempting now that you move around, but promise me... never veside, okay?” She poi the sorry excuse for a door, shaking her head in denial.

  Daisuke had never been outside before, and whenever his mother ventured out, she draped herself thhly, remi of someone from a Middle Eastern try.

  Was that the case? Did this world adhere to some absurdly chauvinistic w, or was she merely a fugitive? Regardless, Daisuke harbored no io expose himself to risks when he couldn’t currently defend himself. And by defending, he meant, of course, running away.

  ***

  Being able to waddle around like a penguin was certainly an improvement over being fio a straw-woven basket, but there was nothing worth seeing in a decrepit old hut. Keeping a baby eained was simple, but a mature mind needed greater stimulus to be tent, and the bats now living in the roof didn’t provide nearly enough.

  After a bit of expl, Daisuke found what remained of a mirror beside the stained old bathtub, which he had secretly brought into the living room area. It was the first time he was seeing himself since he was whisked away to this godforsaken world.

  Small hands tousled the silver hair that sat atop his head. A round pair of butterscotch eyes assessed the silky rose beige that was his skin tone. And, finally, he stretched the waist of his diaper and took a gander down south.

  Phew, he wiped away the ent sweat from his forehead with a sigh of relief. Thanks, dad!

  While walking toward the bedroom with a cupped , Daisuke started deliberating. Except for my eyes and hair color, which I got from the NPC, I pretty much have the same physical traits as I did in the real world.

  Daisuke regarded his mother as an NPC, but with the exception of her obnoxious naming sehere were really no other indicators that supported his cim. Typically, in video games, NPCs—or Non-Pyable Characters—were scripted automatons that rinsed and recycled several dialogues. They gave pyers information and ?quests?, and were always the owners of various stores at which pyers could trade money foods and services.

  Traditionally, NPCs were easily identified by a clear name floating above their heads, distinguished in a color separate from those of pyers. They were alsrammed to walk or run on a scripted path or to perform a certain series of as.

  All in all, with enough observation, NPCs could easily be distinguished by their repetitive and robotic behavior. However, assuming this was indeed ihe game, his virtual mother hadn’t dispyed any of those signs. There was no ag floating above her head, and she had a level of autonomy that suggested eaP this world may be blessed with a tremendous degree of artificial intelligehis added a godlike level of realism to the world.

  The front door let out a slight squeak as it opened, revealing Daisuke’s mother entering with a panion. The stranger shed his hooded robe, revealing a stout figure dressed in regal attire remi of medieval dignitaries.

  Daisuke froze in his tracks, his tiny arms hanging loosely at his sides upon realizing the sort of business his mother had been dug all this time without his knowledge.

  The strahe pot-bellied bastard—narrowed his eyes and licked his lips in a perverse manner upnizing the child’s distress. In response, Daisuke’s mother swiftly pulled him into her frock as a means of shielding his gaze.

  Yet, the damage was already done. Beyond the curtain separating the front door entrand bedroom from the living room area, Daisuke had unraveled the mystery of his virtual mother’s secret dealings.

  “I’m sorry, Sir. Bennington,” she uttered softly. “Why don’t you go and make yourself fortable; I’ll be with you in a moment.”

  Daisuke’s brows furrowed, and his tiny fingers ched into fists. He hadn’t been in a particurly good mood since he started teething, and this situation had only intensified his erratic emotions.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” his mother whispered apologetically. “Mommy will py with you soon.

  Just be a good boy and wait here for me, okay? And remember not to go outside.”

  She khe toddler might have only grasped one or two words from her speech, but the obedient look in his eyes broke her heart. She reized the intelligen her child, and the realization that he might fully uand the situation added another yer of sorrow trief.

  ***

  “…Puh-Puppy,” Daisuke awkwardly echoed after his mazing up at the lovely woman from the fort of her p.

  The presumed NPC clutched a timeworn children’s book in her hands, teag her son how to read. It had been a little over three months, and Daisuke had developed enough to babble, with some words surprisingly coherent for a toddler his age.

  He made an effort to downpy his abilities, but his aptitude for learning remained unusually high. It was a bittersweet revetion for his mother—she was thrilled to have given birth to a child prodigy, yet dejected that she couldn’t provide him with the formal education he deserved.

  Even if, by some miracle, she could e into some money, her humble background wouldn’t afford him the privilege to enroll in a det school.

  Witnessing her distress, Daisuke pivoted his waist and embraced her tightly. Her casg silver hair brushed against his cheek, and her cherished pair of hairpins, each adorned with a firefly, gleamed in her hair.

  “…Love, mommy,” he uttered softly.

  “Oh sweetie, I love you too,” she sniffled, pulling him in close, their bodies jerking from her gentle sobs.

  Daisuke’s eyes drifted open, his expression devoid of emotion as he listeo the turmoil of her beati. Tears pooled in his eyes as memories flickered in his mind like the pages of a sketchbook.

  Every day, he would curl his body into a ball, desperately trying to drown out his mother’s responses from the bedroom. Her sacrifices were an unwele burden, born out of y rather than desire. The realization that he couldn’t tribute to ease her struggles filled him with a profound sense of disgust.

  Like a broken dam, all of his anger and rage transformed into a tumultuous sea of frustration and self-loathing. He couldn’t fathom what he had doo deserve the years of punishment he had endured, but it felt as though he had iently dragged this woman into the chaoti along with him.

  As soon as Daisuke transitioned from breastfeeding to ing physical food, his man w longer hours to ehere was enough oable for the both of them. It was iable now that she had another mouth to feed.

  After the day she wept in front of him, his mother resolved o let it happen again. Life in the slums was a relentless struggle, where food and water were scarodities. Even with the meager earnings from her ers, making ends meet remained an uphill battle.

  More often than not, some of her ts would pay her little to nothing, and some wouldn’t pay at all. But what could she do? She didn’t have a brothel to back her, and she didn’t have the strength to fight.

  Despite the hardships, she always bore a resilient smile, sistently assuring her son that everything would eventually be all right.

  Over time, as if the occasional ck of payment wasn’t tormenting enough, she would emerge from her room with severe bruises on her fad body. Her line of work was already physically demanding—now, to make matters worse, she had to tend with the burden of dealing with injuries.

  But, despite the harsh w ditions, she refused to quit.

  ***

  The house was immersed in an eerie silence, disrupted only by the screeg of crickets on a particurly chilly night.

  Daisuke and his mother k at a beaten-up, knee-length table, a lone dle casting a feeble glow on the modest space. A meager loaf of bread, perilously close to its expiration date, occupied a pte before them.

  “Now, go ahead a up,” his mother chimed with her ary smile, a robe carefully veiling her malnourished form.

  Daisuke looked down, his eyes quivering. With posed eagerness, he reached for the loaf and tore it into two halves, her a share with an outstretched arm.

  “Food tastes better when you share it with someone,” he warmly remarked.

  The woman slowly shook her head in refusal, the dlelight barely reag the deep circles under her eyes. “I’m fine... just a little tired,” she returned softly, pushing to her feet. “I think I’m going to turn in for the night. Eat up, then e to bed when you’re ready.”

  Daisuke watched her leave, and the bread slipped from his trembling hand, nding on the lopsided table. As the bedroom door closed behind her, his mask crumpled, and tears spilled from his eyes.

  Goddammit! Goddammit! He cursed inwardly, crushing the stale pastry in his right hand. I’m so pathetic! Isn’t there anything I do?

  Despite p his limited options, he was still too young and vulnerable to take on any kind of work, even if opportunities existed in the slums. Furthermore, his mother strictly forbade him from leaving the house, and the st thing he wanted was to upset her.

  Her warnings painted a bleak picture of a poverty-stri world marred by crime—robberies, kidnappings, rape, murder. Despite the risks, he didn’t want to be separated from her while she engaged in her line of work.

  It only took one unforeseen i, one sociopath, and his entire world could crumble and fall apart in an instant. Whether she was a virtual guardian or not, this woman had bled, cried, and sacrificed for him.

  It was too te for his previous parents, but he was resolute in always being there for this woman. In this world, he would lead a life withrets.

  Fear of monsters & the unknown: 95.8%