The Scumbag’s Second Life

7. Mischievous

At only five months old, Hazrad had become a healthy, restless little creature, but something about him worried Azra a little bit.

His growth seemed stagnant or slow. Reaper infants his age were usually twice his size, yet he was still tiny, almost fragile… maybe because he wasn't a full reaper.

That made Azra wonder if that small frame of his would affect his future value as their "ultimate weapon."

Nero, however, the cerberus pup born the same month as him, was the complete opposite.

The beast wasn't just active—it grew at a frightening pace, exactly what one would expect from a creature designed to tear armies apart.

It already stood roughly 35 cm at the shoulder, its long body stretching close to a meter and a half. Its skin was already as hard as a concrete with dark, shiny furs covering it up.

Its strength was impressive too; it could carry Hazrad on its back without feeling the slightest weight.

For nearly a week, Hazrad had been sneaking out of the house, riding Nero into the forest to train.

Five month year Olds aren't expected to do push-ups. But at this age, Hazrad could do up to 20 push-ups in one set.

Thanks to his matured reasoning and his Appraiser skill, he helped Nero get used to its abilities as well despite being only half a year old.

Naturally, Nero would eventually master its innate skills on its own, but that would've taken months.

Under Hazrad's guidance, it did so in a week.

After another long day of training, both of them returned home just as the sun was about to fall.

Hazrad, feeling mischievous, dismissed Nero to the dog house and stayed in the main house with Azra.

She was asleep again, sprawled across the floor with an open book on her stomach. She must've been reading before dozing off.

Hazrad grinned wildly and crawled toward her bedroom.

The place was its usual chaotic heaven: the bed undone, clothes thrown everywhere, and that intoxicating womanly scent hanging in the air like a drug.

Hazrad inhaled deeply, eyes gleaming.

Then he spotted something even better.

Right there on the floor, Azra had left a white, dirty lace panty she must have taken off not too long ago.

Saliva dripped onto the floor as Hazrad crawled toward it. He grabbed it with his tiny fingers, brought it to his nose, and inhaled greedily.

Ah… l had almost forgotten this scent, he thought, his little heart thumping with joy.

Moments like this made reincarnating worth it. It made him forget that he was meant to grow up into a weapon, destined to be thrown at Soul Witches or whatever enemy the reapers were obsessing over.

He inhaled even deeper, nose reddening.

Azra's panties always carried that dirty, addictive aroma. It drove him insane every time.

Not surprising though—Azra did nothing except read erotica all day, get wet, then fall asleep, so most of her panties were always dirty.

Since being assigned to raise Hazrad, she'd been relieved of all duties as an Archreaper. No more war. No more killing. Just books, protecting Hazrad, fantasies, and neglecting her laundry.

The more Hazrad touched her panties, the more wicked his mind became.

Today's goal was clear:

He was going to touch her boobs.

He'd always wanted to get a good feel of them ever since the day he thought she might breastfeed him.

Up till now he hadn't gotten the proper, thorough feel he desperately craved. To feel her nipples, her heavy areolas, those perfect milk-filled mounds…

Damn it!! He cursed his tiny body! It limited him to all the things he wanted to do!

As a proud female undergarments thief, he stuffed Azra's panty into his napkin. He'd sniff it more later.

Then he crawled out her room with purpose.

But when he returned to the living room, Azra wasn't asleep anymore.

His tiny eyebrow twitched in pure, sharp annoyance as she yawned.

"Hy, kiddo. Did you eat?" she muttered groggily, picking him up.

Come on! I wanted to grope your boobs while you were asleep!! Why'd you wake up!!

Azra picked him off the floor, brushing the back of his head.

At least he got to mash his face against her boobs while she carried him. Small blessings.

Her expression suddenly shifted as she studied his face.

"Still can't see with your left eye, huh?"

She brushed a finger over it. He didn't blink, not because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't. He'd never been able to see or feel anything on that side since birth.

Sometimes he wondered if there was even an eyeball in that socket.

"Well… I believe it'll see someday! Don't worry," Azra said. "I sense something special in it."

She smiled warmly, maybe because she believed he understood, or maybe because she was just too lonely. Talking to a baby who couldn't answer was her only therapy.

But her words got Hazrad thinking.

What does his blind eye look like now? Empty? Hollow?

He wished he could check his reflection, but there weren't any mirrors in the house.

After setting him down, Azra walked toward the bathroom to take a bath.

Hazrad instantly forgot about his worries and crawled after her, hoping she'd bathe with him this time… and he'd get a full view of all her heavenly secrets.

But of course, she slammed the door shut.

Growling, he sat at the door. Three minutes later, he heard muffled moans echoing from the bathroom. Heavy breaths. Wet dirty sounds of fingers sliding in and out of something squelchy, and drenched.

Of course. She was pleasing herself.

Hazrad wondered if she had a husband or boyfriend, or if she was just this horny by nature.

He leaned against the door, listening closely.

Azra is so horny… and so beautiful. When I grow up, I'll make her feel good. That's a promise.

Her moans grew louder, reverberating through the entire room.

A sharp cry, a gasp, and heavy panting.

She had just climaxed.

Hazrad crawled away before she caught him eavesdropping. Being a baby truly was a torture.

But there was a bright side: he had all the time in the world to learn about this new world and grow strong enough to survive it.

And is there any better way to know the world than reading its history books?

He went to the dining room and rummaged through the piles of books Azra tossed everywhere. Most were smut novels, of course, but eventually he found one that caught his eye:

A Guide To Becoming Father Death's Favorite Child.

What a lame title!

Intrigued, he began to read.

TBC