I’ve been bound to a "System" and tasked with saving a villain. Not just any villain—a reborn, blackened, paranoid, trust-no-one-type villain. [System: Okay, let's pick your role. You could be the girl-next-door he grew up with, or perhaps the toxic side-character who becomes his right-hand woman...] "I want to be his mom," I said. [System: ???] I smiled. "If this is a rescue mission, the best way to save him is to make sure none of the bad stuff ever happens at all." This time, he's going to be a happy kid. This time, he'll have a mother. 1 On a perfectly normal day, a thing calling itself a "Rescue & Redemption System" hijacked my life. It told me I had to save a villain who had been reborn with all his dark memories. [System: He's unstable and trusts no one. He might abandon you or misunderstand you because of other women. But if you just try hard enough, you'll definitely win his heart!] I looked at the photo of the "villain." He was a teenager with ice-cold eyes and a massive scar splitting his face. I was skeptical. [System: Now, let's pick your identity! You can be his childhood sweetheart, the girl next door, or even the evil side-character who ends up working for him. Basically, any female role that can get close to him. Pretty cool, right?] I nodded. "In that case, I choose to be his mom." [System: .......] I shrugged. "Boyfriends are high-maintenance. A son is an investment." And just like that, I woke up as the mother of Milo Vance, who was, at this moment, a newborn. His father had just died in an accident, leaving the original "me" all alone. In the original story, the insurance payout attracted the wrong kind of attention. A local thief broke in, murdered the mother, and stole the money and the baby. The thief, a drunk and a gambler, was a broke good-for-nothing who figured he'd just raise the kid to be his free labor in his old age. This was before security cameras were everywhere, so he got away with it. But he didn't "raise" the kid. He beat him. Milo Vance had a miserable childhood and never set foot in a school. When he was a teenager, the thief got drunk and let slip the truth of his origin. Milo killed him, ran away, and joined the criminal underworld, clawing his way up from nothing. I looked at the photo of him as an adult again. That scar, the one that ran from his temple to his jaw? The thief gave it to him. He looked less like a man and more like a cornered wolf. 2 Milo's father had been an orphan, so we had no family to speak of. I took the $50,000 settlement check and went back to the small, rural hometown I'd grown up in. In this day and age, $50,000 was a real fortune. Most folks were just getting by. I kept the small house in the nearest big town; we'd need it when Milo was old enough for school. I was an orphan, too, basically raised by the whole town. Not everyone was a saint, but it was a tight-knit community. If you yelled, people came running. Not like the city, where you could be dead for days and no one would know. When I showed up with a baby, the town was shocked. But I had money, and Mr. Henderson, the unofficial mayor, helped me get a plot of land. I paid for the materials, gave everyone cash for their time, and bought burgers and barbecue for the crew. In no time, I had a dozen people helping me build a small house. While it was being built, I stayed with Mr. Henderson. His wife, Sarah, helped me with Milo while I was still recovering from the birth. Milo... he was already reborn. His dark little eyes were empty, holding a stillness that was deeply unnerving in an infant. But no matter how dark his soul, he was still just a baby. He ate, he slept, and that was it. He had some kind of infant pride, though. He never cried. Unless he was absolutely starving. Then he'd let out two sharp little grunts. And he absolutely refused to breastfeed. When Sarah laid him in my arms, he just turned his head and spat the nipple out. To be honest, I was relieved. I'd never been a mom. It was awkward. I'd bought formula and malted milk powder in town—both luxuries. Sarah would mix it and feed him, tiny spoonful by tiny spoonful. But he was a baby. What went in, came out. A little while later, he'd squirm and grunt. Sarah would change him, patting his bottom. "He's going to be a real heartbreaker, isn't he? So serious all the time." Milo waved his little fists, as if trying to cover his face, and let out two tiny sobs. He wanted me. I smiled and took him. He stared at me, his gaze intense, curious. "I'm your mom," I whispered. "And this time, you're going to have a happy life." 3 The house was finished. With the System's help, I got the furniture set up, and Milo and I moved in. His favorite thing to do was lie in his crib and just... stare at me. Whenever he did, I'd scoop him up, tickle his stomach, and nuzzle his neck until he was squirming and flailing. He'd look so indignant, and I'd just laugh. Then I'd give him a bottle, and he'd be fast asleep. Just like that, Milo turned three. He was a homebody, but I made good snacks, so the neighborhood kids always came over to him. He had playmates, even if he just sat there with his little grumpy face, which earned him the nickname "Old Man Milo." Today, I dressed him in yellow overalls with a little duck on the pocket, stuffed his pockets with candy, and hung his little canteen around his neck. "Go on, honey. Go play with your friends." Milo, ever the cool guy, just hugged my leg and mumbled into my jeans. "Mommy. No go." I crouched down and looked him in the eyes. "Today is a special mission for a brave explorer. Mommy will be right here waiting for you. I promise." 4 I gently nudged him out the door. With the System, I had a live feed. He stood on the porch for a full minute, his face all scrunched up. Finally, his little legs started moving. He was heading for the big hay bales by the creek, where the town kids always played hide-and-seek. I'd taken him there a few times. A few adults saw him and waved. "Hey there, Milo! Where you off to?" He'd stop, tilt his head all the way back to look up at them, and after a long pause, say, "Out. To play." They'd chuckle. "Alright. Don't go too far, now." He's not a social kid. Usually, he just hides his face in my neck. But I taught him that when people say hello, you have to say hello back. It's polite. He gave them a tiny nod. "Thank you. I know." He'd pat his hat, a blue one with a little tiger on it. He once told me it was "babyish," but I know he loves it because I always catch him fiddling with the ears. So, I sew little animals on all his clothes. 5 He finally got to the hay bales. The kids swarmed him. "Milo! You're out by yourself?" "Where's your mom?" A little girl pointed to his overalls. "I love your clothes! That duck is so cute!" Her voice was full of envy. In this town, in this decade, new clothes were rare. The boys just pointed at his hat. Milo puffed up, covering his tiger hat with both hands. "Don't touch me!" he yelled. "Or you get no candy!" That got their attention. "Candy! He has candy!" They all stood at attention. Milo sighed, like he was bearing a great burden. "Sit down. You have to sit nicely to get candy." They sat. He gravely walked down the line, placing one piece of candy in each outstretched hand. One of the kids was so happy he was licking the wrapper. "Your mom is the best. She gives you new clothes and candy. And she makes the best food. I wish she was my mom." This started a chorus. "Yeah, me too!" This, apparently, was the wrong thing to say. Milo got mad. "She's my mom!" he shouted, trying to snatch the candy back. "She doesn't like you! Not any of you!" The kids yelped and shielded their candy. Milo, defeated, huffed, turned around, and stormed off. 6 He only made it a little way down the path before he got tired. He sat down, opened his canteen, and took a sip. He hesitated, then pulled a caramel from his own pocket and popped it in his mouth. His little cheeks puffed out. He looked like a chipmunk. A sparrow landed a few feet away, tilting its head, not at all scared. Milo watched it. Then he pulled a cookie from his other pocket, broke it into crumbs, and tossed them on the ground. The sparrow stared at him, then hopped over and started to eat. [System: Who'd believe that's the heartless villain?] Milo wasn't a scrawny, scarred wolf-cub anymore. He was plump and pale, his cheeks were round, and his hands were dimpled. He was a little white dumpling. "Rich soil grows beautiful flowers," I replied. "It's only natural." [System: His affection for you is at 60%! This is unheard of! Saving a villain like this is supposed to take decades!] "Kids love the person who takes care of them," I said, feeling smug. "That's also natural." [System: ....Show-off.] I laughed and went back to making chocolate chip cookies. On the system feed, I saw Milo rounding the bend by the big oak tree. I quickly went outside, holding a big, red candied apple. I was pretty strict about sugar, so this was a huge treat. I stood on the porch in my yellow sundress. As soonE as he came into view, I called out. "Milo!" His little walk turned into a trot, and then a full-on run. And he was smiling—a huge, goofy grin, showing all his little milk teeth. It was the first time I'd ever seen him smile that freely. I opened my arms, and he crashed into me. "Did you have fun today?" I asked, kissing the top of his head. He just rubbed his face on my neck and nodded hard. "Mm-hmm." I set him down and handed him the apple. "Your reward, brave explorer." His eyes went wide. He stuck his tongue out and gave the apple a tiny lick, then squinted his eyes in pure bliss. [System: Alert. The villain has become a fiend for sugar.]
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