‘I see that today they woke up more energetic and boisterous than usual’
Sitting in the corner of the crib, I watched the babies, nay, the children, go about their daily antics.
… Children? Are they really children? That is something I’m not quite sure about since, to my eyes, they look more like a group of beasts or barbarians who love to fight.
‘One, two, three. So, three have been the ones who have stood up on this occasion’
I mentally counted the three brats who, showered with cheers from the rest, lay fighting on the floor, banging, scratching, and biting each other.
‘Heck. I figured it out. Even without seeing it, I knew it. These guys are, or, unfortunately, should I say, we’re weirdos’
Long before these brats acted like this, I had assumed that they were not only weird in looks but also from the depths of their being, and I was right. After all, even if I ignore the fact that all of them, who until a couple of months ago were babies who only knew how to eat, sleep, and shit, can already get up from their cribs, and half of them have already managed to walk, the rarest thing about them is their love for fighting.
‘Was I wrong to rule out the possibility of the beast nest and that we are the children of orcs or gorillas but not the experiment of a madman?’
That is something worth pondering.
Maybe we are, as that would explain our ugliness. Besides, the pain I felt when I reincarnated could have another origin that I don’t know, nothing to do with what I had thought.
Their habitual actions could also be due to being their children, since just like beasts, as soon as they learn to walk, they get down from their cradles to patrol the ground in search of establishing their domain, and, when they meet another one like them, fight with all their might while rolling around everywhere.
Well, actually, I think even beasts don’t act like that.
There is also another thing I erred on, and in this case, it’s not a maybe, but a sure thing, as it seems I underestimated too much the hardness of our bodies, and no, I’m not referring to the blows that the brats endure while fighting. After all, even if these resonate with force on impact, these are still children’s fists and kicks, actions that would hardly generate a lasting consequence. What I am referring to is that which occurs due to the lack of gray matter in their brains.
Their superhuman abilities have been given to them at the expense of their appearances and brains,
A few days ago, when I was trying to sleep, tired from the hard work of chewing the meat they fed us, I suddenly heard a loud bang that took me out of my inner world, startling me in the process and making me get up as fast as I could to find out the origin of that sound, which, to my surprise, came from an idiot who, under the feet of his cradle, was holding his head with both hands while moaning in pain.
In the beginning, I had a hard time since these fools, as if imitating the first one, always went down the same way. They don’t know or learn from their companions how to descend correctly to the ground, so with time, I got used to it. Even though they laugh at their siblings as they watch them cry out in pain, when it is their turn to go down, they don’t bother to do it gently or even pull themselves down hard but with their feet facing the ground. They always do it without thinking.
In a way, this is all a bit curious since, although they are fools at most things, from what I’ve seen when it comes to fighting, they do it quite skillfully, considering their age. I guess their bestial instincts are very well-calibrated.
Those situations were repeated on so many occasions that a disaster finally ensued.
It happened when one day, a brat woke up with enough strength and courage to throw himself headfirst to the floor, which on its own is nothing new since others who also did it ended up with only a bump on the head or at most a small bleeding wound, but that time it wasn’t like that.
The boy threw himself face down so that his nose broke when it came into contact with the hard ground. Moreover, while that was already worrisome, as a broken nose equals a lot of blood loss, the bigger problem occurred when one of his eyes was severely injured after a sharp rock got stuck in it.
On his knees, with his elbows supporting half of his body and his back curved upwards, the boy pressed his face with both hands while blood dripped from his slender fingers. He, with his young voice, screamed noisily from the terrible pain, attracting the attention of the other children in the room, who, unlike the usual, looked at him with curiosity, not laughing at him but with no sign of concern in their eyes.
That was the first time in my life that I had personally witnessed an injury of such a degree, so I could not help but be stunned for a few moments, plus although usually, I would criticize my actions for being an indecisive idiot, on that occasion, that was the right choice, since shortly after the event, a couple of babysitters showed up on the scene.
It was a bit odd for them to arrive so early, as they had never done it out of their usual hours, but, fortunately, they did it in time, because when they arrived, they took the wounded man in their arms and, after cleaning his blood, they wrapped his head with a cloth and then laid him on his crib, where, after a couple of hours of moaning and crying, he fell asleep.
I got a little angry at the lack of attention they gave him despite the severity of his injuries. Both women did not treat him properly. They only dried him, wrapped him up, and threw him on his bed as if he was not a living being. So, from then on, I began to think that maybe the women in this place were not as innocent as I had imagined.
However, that thought vanished when, a week after the incident, the brat stood up as if nothing had happened.
He, whose only special treatment he received was an increase in his food allowance, was completely healed in such a short time. His nose was still as ugly as ever, but there was no remaining scar on it, and his eye, the one most injured in the accident, apart from an apparent itch, was in perfect condition.
Not only that, but the brat was also visibly fatter than before due to the large amount of food he had eaten, which caused a look of pride to form in him and envy in those around him.
Those idiots envied him despite the terrible experience he had to go through. They envied him even though he cried when he woke up in the days after the fall.
I even began to worry that they would try to imitate him to be able to eat more, but, thanks to the fact that they are so dumb, after a few days, they forgot what they had to do to do it.
In any case, I understood that I was wrong.
Two or three falls? Ha, nonsense. After seeing how someone so young was cured of a wound, which should have permanently removed the sight of one eye, so easily and quickly, now, I doubt that as an adult, two or three bullets would be able to kill me.
It was comforting to discover that our ugly was not only rewarded with ultra-resolution vision and accelerated growth, but a high capacity for healing also came in the package. Hopefully, limb regeneration might be possible…not that I want to experience it.
That was not all I got out of that event, for from then on, a little of the worry in my heart faded away.
I was so worried that when they saw me walking, they would take me out of the room, just like they had done with the other children, to take me to a slaughterhouse or some similar place. After all, although it was highly likely that they were raising us to fulfill a mission in the future, being a pessimist, it could also be possible that they were doing it for more disturbing reasons, such as a food farm.
Okay, I may have exaggerated in thinking that way, but when I saw that they were only concerned about keeping us well-fed and clean, I got worried. Besides, having the walking brats led out of the room with their hands and necks tied to a dark hallway didn’t help calm my fear.
Anyway, these have already diminished a lot after seeing how they helped cure that fool since I now know that they need us healthy, so they must be raising us for a physical job or something, and if that’s the case, then it won’t be so hard for me to find a way to escape in the future.
Therefore, it is no longer wise to hide all my skills while training in hiding, as that would make me stand out negatively. Slowly, calmly and intelligently. I must exploit my advantage over my peers to disguise myself as an ordinary brat and take them by surprise at the right moment.
‘Sitting in a corner, I observe with attention those barbarians that fight among them while my left elbow leans on the railing of the cradle, and in the hand of the same side, rests my chin, upon which is drawn a slight smile that is accompanied by eyes that reflect a lot of intelligence’
Perhaps my young body is influencing my soul, or maybe this attitude has come with me from my past life, but whatever it is, I find it fun to act like I’m the hidden boss in this place. Full of geniality and manliness.
Yet, it is something I must hide from the nannies as if they see me behaving like this, any future attempts at rapprochement would be in vain. After all, seeing a muscular and sweat-covered child acting this way must be very scary…