- 6 ChsContent
- ratings
- N/ASUPPORT
Cohen, a member of the specialized guerilla unit, along with his squad were ambushed. Even though they tried their best, they couldn't fend off the enemy forces. Soon, the members of Cohen's squad all fell, and Cohen followed along. But after a while, he opened his eyes, only to find himself in a new place—a new world. But Cohen's voice, and body were not that of his own, but rather, a child's. What was even worse was that the child was malnourished, of small built, and living in a slum, where nobody would grant him anything. For the sake of survival, Cohen decides to do what he was best at previously—killing, for a living. The cover photo of the novel is not mine. If the creator of the artwork wants me to remove it, I'll remove it.
"It's an ambush!"
"Khh! How did they find out?!"
"Cohen! Provide support!"
"On it!"
Ratatata!
Screams of agony could be heard from Cohen's squad. Though they tried their best, they reduce the number of casualties. One after another, Cohen's comrades fell, and soon, Cohen, too, got shot in the chest.
Lying on his back, unable to move a muscle, Cohen's eyes started to lose focus, and he started to black out.
'Is this how I am going to die? Truly was a pathetic life, not gonna lie.'
Soon, Cohen lost consciousness....but, after what felt like an eternity, Cohen heard something. Opening his eyes, what he saw was a completely different scenery. Soon, Cohen found himself in a ragged place with torn-out tents, and the nasty smell coming from the junk lying on the ground.
'What is this place?' thought Cohen. He looked around a bit, and it wasn't hard to gather that it was a slum.
"Wasn't I suppose—Wha...? Wait, what? Is that, is tha me speak—WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO VOICE?!" The voice was not that of Cohen's. It was too high-pitched to be that of Cohen's, a full out, 34 year-old adult, serving in the special guerilla unit. It resembled more that of a child. Confused, and still recovering from the shock, Cohen took a step back, but as he was staggering, he tripped on a stone and fell on a small ditch containing water.
*Splash*
"Ouch!"
The fall made Cohen take a look at his legs. They looked slender, and extremely pale, as if they had no blood in them. Hurriedly, Cohen also glanced over at his hands, too. His hands, too, were as skinny as his legs, in fact, it looked as if they were malnourished. Only then did he realize that it was not only his voice, but also limbs—no, he himself was a child. He took a look at the puddle where he splashed on, the water reflected the face of a small boy, looking no older than 12, with deathly pale skin, dark eyebags, and an overall malnourished face, much similar to that of his limbs.
Cohen moved his hands towards his face, and the reflection also showed the boy's hands moving towards his face. His reaching cheeks, Cohen pulled them.
"Aak!" Yes, it hurt. Cohen realized that he was not dreaming, neither was he in the zone where he, and his comrades were ambushed and we're brutally killed by the enemy forces.
He finally understood that he....had reincarnated.
