"Oh crap! I pulled the wrong person…"
A panicked voice echoed through the void as a newborn baby suddenly appeared—face wrinkled, limbs flailing.
Before he could even process what had happened, a blinding white light engulfed him. It wasn't visible to ordinary people, yet it carried a strange, divine energy.
The voice sounded terrified, and as the white light wrapped around the baby, he felt something in his mind shatter—like glass breaking inside his skull.
Just seconds into this new life, the baby didn't cry. His tiny face was frozen in confusion.
> "What the hell is going on?"
His body felt foreign—he couldn't move properly, couldn't speak, could barely open his eyes—but his mind was working overtime. His thoughts, surprisingly clear, raced as he tried to grasp what was happening.
His newborn vision was blurred, but he could just barely make out people clustered around him. He couldn't see their faces clearly, but from their excited voices and movements, he could tell something big had just happened.
> "Is this transmigration?"
> "Rebirth?"
> "Something else entirely?"
No matter how much he thought about it, nothing made sense.
> "I wasn't hit by a car…"
> "I didn't drown, I wasn't electrocuted, I didn't fall asleep at the wheel…"
> "I didn't even eat or drink anything weird! I was just sitting on my couch!"
His mind struggled to keep up. One moment, he was watching TV. The next, everything spun around him—and now he was a baby, apparently just born.
Before he could sort out his thoughts, he was suddenly lifted up, followed immediately by a sharp sting on his backside.
> "Ow! What the hell?!"
He cursed in his head, but to the people around him, that first cry was all they had been waiting for.
The midwife—a pale-faced woman in her fifties—breathed a sigh of relief and gently placed the child down. Then, without hesitation, she turned, walked to the door, knelt deeply, and lowered her forehead to the floor in a perfect dogeza.
"My Lord," she said shakily, "I only acted because the Young Master wasn't crying. Please forgive me if I overstepped…"
Though her tone trembled, there wasn't much fear in her expression. She knew that if anything had gone wrong with the baby, she'd likely be buried with him. But since the child was safe and healthy, even a little 'insubordination' could be overlooked.
The door to the room had been left slightly ajar. Several people stood just outside, peeking in. Though they hadn't entered, they'd seen enough.
A tall, middle-aged man stood at the front of the group. His expression was unreadable, but there was a glint of understanding in his eyes as he looked down at the kneeling midwife.
"Anyone who dares to act for my son's safety will be rewarded," he said calmly. "But don't ever try to pull a stunt like that again. You know the consequences."
"Y-Yes, my Lord! Thank you, my Lord!"
The woman hadn't expected him to see through her act. After all, the slap and the child's reaction were barely visible from outside. She had spoken up about it herself just to try and curry favor—and it had worked, barely.
---
Meanwhile, outside...
"Hahaha! Congratulations, Lord Jaxon's father!"
"Yes! We heard from the Great Lord himself. When he found out the heir to the Jaxon family had finally been born, he immediately sent us to offer his personal blessings—and this gift, hand-picked for the Young Master!"
The halls of the Jaxon estate were abuzz with excitement.
Inside the grand banquet hall, noblemen, officials, and respected guests smiled and laughed, offering congratulations. Whether they were genuinely happy or just putting on an act, one thing was clear: the Jaxon family held serious power.
At the head of the long table sat the family patriarch, Xingye Zhu, smiling and nodding in response to the well-wishers. He exuded authority and warmth—traits befitting the head of one of the most influential families in the land.
Behind him stood a woman in her twenties, gently cradling the newborn child—Jaxon—in her arms.
No crying. No fussing.
One month had already passed since his birth, and Jaxon had come to terms with his new reality. Although he'd been pretty bitter at first, being reborn into a rich, powerful family wasn't exactly the worst outcome.
After all, back in his previous life, he was just another overworked corporate slave. Now? He was the heir to a noble clan with wealth, servants, and influence beyond imagination.
> "I had no attachments anyway," he thought. "My parents were divorced, I had no siblings, no girlfriend. If my old body died on that couch, nobody would've noticed."
This new life? Not bad at all.
The name his new parents had given him was Jaxon.
And the past? Best left behind.
He had no interest in going back. This was a fresh start, and he intended to enjoy it to the fullest.
Sure, his mental faculties were way too advanced for a baby, but his physical body still followed normal growth patterns. Every few hours, he'd fall asleep uncontrollably—no matter how active his mind was.
As he yawned and prepared to doze off again—ignoring the constant noise from the festivities—a sudden thought struck him.
> "Wait… That voice I heard when I got here…"
> "Wasn't it something about a system?"
> "System? You there?"
He called out in his mind, hoping to trigger something.
But there was no response.
After a few seconds of silence, he gave up.
> "Guess not… Whatever. I'll just enjoy my rich baby life for now. If something weird's gonna happen, it'll happen sooner or later."
---
Three Years Later
The wrinkled newborn had grown into a lively toddler.
Jaxon, now three, could run, jump, and talk with ease. And by now, even the vast courtyards of the estate felt too small for his curiosity.
The Jaxon family compound wasn't just a home—it was practically a city. Parks, lakes, personal theaters, indoor arenas—it had everything. He hadn't stepped into a kitchen once since he was born. Meals were prepared for him, clothes brought to him. Life was luxurious.
He didn't even know where the servants' quarters were. All he had to do was say what he wanted, and either it was delivered instantly, or someone was sent to procure it.
> "So this is what peak capitalism looks like…" he mused.
But whatever it was, Jaxon loved it.
As he casually walked across the marbled floors of the main hall, heading toward the massive garden outside, a voice called out from behind.
"Young Master Jaxon, are you going out?"
He turned and saw a young woman, maybe in her early twenties, dressed in a crisp, elegant uniform. One of the maids under his mother's direct command.
If he had still been an adult man in his original body, he might have appreciated her beauty more—but in this tiny three-year-old body, he honestly felt nothing at all.
"Is something up?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
The maid smiled politely. "The Mistress has requested your presence."
Jaxon blinked, immediately suspicious.
> "Oh no. This feels like a trap."
"I've been home all day, doing nothing," he grumbled. "And now that I'm finally going out, she wants me?"
"The Mistress says she hasn't seen you in several days," the maid added, bowing slightly. "She misses you."
"What? Just for that?"
He sighed, shoulders slumping. The timing was uncanny—like the universe didn't want him to leave the house.
"Fine, fine. Tell her I'll stop by this afternoon."
The maid nodded respectfully.
Without another word, Jaxon turned and sprinted toward the back garden—afraid that if he stayed a second longer, the maid might actually grab him and drag him to his mother.
> "Freedom!"
Øóffer going on for diamond tier
pàtreøn (Gk31)