Not long after his dramatic flop onto the mattress, Claude heard the sound of the door creaking open.
Soft footsteps approached, and then suddenly, he felt his body being lifted into the air.
His limbs dangled awkwardly as he was turned to face the source of his rescue.
"Oh, my sweet baby, are you alright?"
Dalia's worried voice filled the room as she held him close, her expression soft with concern.
Claude couldn't help but flail his tiny arms and kick his feet, all while involuntarily letting out an embarrassing noise.
"Boo... boo…" He grimaced internally, his baby cheeks turning a noticeable shade of red.
'This is so humiliating.'
Dalia, oblivious to his inner embarrassment, cooed affectionately. "Oh, my baby is fine. You just wanted some attention, didn't you?"
She pulled Claude into a warm hug, pressing him against her chest before shifting her attention to the muscular man standing a few steps away.
For a moment, Dalia looked hesitant, her gaze flickering between the man and her son as if struggling to find the right words.
The emotions in her eyes were a whirlwind—pity, guilt, and, oddly enough, a faint glimmer of happiness.
It was a look Claude couldn't quite decipher, one that unsettled him.
Finally, she took a deep breath, her voice steady but a little forced.
"Claude, this is Theo. Say hello to him, baby," she said, her face brightening into a smile as she gestured toward the man, almost as if trying to present him like some cherished prize.
Claude's eyes narrowed immediately. It was him. The guy from the garden—Theo.
His black hair, his rugged appearance, and the way Dalia had blushed earlier all suddenly made sense.
'No... No, no, no! It can't be...!' his heart sank as the realization hit him.
Theo stepped forward with a cautious smile, his green eyes gleaming. "Can I hold him?" His voice was careful, almost hesitant.
"Of course, you can," Dalia responded with a softness that made Claude's stomach churn.
Then, she added the words that would shatter his world, "He's your baby, too."
Claude's internal scream echoed in his head. 'What the hell?! This... this asshole is my father?! NOOOOO!'
He couldn't bring himself to like Theo.
It wasn't because he was ugly or anything like that—there wasn't anything inherently wrong with him—but his existence shattered the illusion of a perfect world.
Ever since his mother's affair came to light, Enzo had been cold and distant toward her.
It was entirely her fault, of course, yet somehow, as her son, Claude still felt the cracks in his own heart every time he saw her cry.
He blamed her. He did. But no matter how much he tried, he couldn't hate her.
It was complicated, this mess of emotions inside him.
She was his mother, after all—the only one who'd ever truly been by his side, the one who'd always protected him no matter what.
And Enzo? That man almost killed him when he was just a baby. If he'd been that brutal back then, who knew what horrors he'd be capable of in the future?
The worst part? This wasn't even the first time Claude had dealt with this kind of pain.
In his previous life, it had been the opposite—his father was the cheater, walking out on him and his mom without so much as a glance back.
His mother in that life hadn't been like Dalia; no, she was just like Enzo, she'd despised him, blamed him for everything.
That life had been a nightmare. And now, here he was again, trapped in another broken family, carrying the same pain all over again?!
Theo gently took him from Dalia, holding him with surprising tenderness for such a big, buffed man. His smile widened as he gazed down at him.
"Claude... That's a good name," Theo murmured, his voice filled with genuine warmth.
Claude blinked, momentarily caught off guard. His name was supposed to be an insult for him and Dalia.
'But why? Why did he call that name as if it is so precious?'
There was something unsettling about the mix of emotions he felt—anger, disappointment... but also a weird sense of warmth.
'No! Focus!' He snapped back to his mission.
'This guy ruined my life! I almost died because of him! Time for revenge!'
Without a second thought, Claude spat on his face, a glob of drool landing squarely on his cheek.
Theo froze in shock, his face momentarily blank as he processed what had just happened.
He smirked. 'Oh, you think that's the end? Buckle up, Theo, because this ride's just getting started.'
Before Theo could react, Claude felt the telltale pressure in his bladder and, with a smug mental chuckle, unleashed a stream of pee.
The warm liquid soaked his shirt, spreading quickly as the man's face turned from confusion to horror.
He instinctively tried to lift the baby away from his drenched chest, but before he could, Claude's tiny hands shot out, grabbing a fistful of his hair.
'You're not going anywhere, buddy!' He thought, his baby grip iron-tight as Theo winced in pain.
"Aw! Aw! Aw!" He yelped, his face contorting as he yanked harder.
Dalia rushed over, trying to pry Claude's hands away. "Oh no, Claude! Let go of Theo's hair!"
'Not yet!' Claude's mischievous glee was in full swing. 'He hasn't paid the full price!'
Just as Theo managed to loosen the baby's death grip on his hair, the sound of a loud fart echoed through the room, followed immediately by the unmistakable odor that sent him into a state of panic.
"Damn it!" Theo screamed, flinching as the smell hit him.
His arms flailed, trying to get away from the now diaper-filled disaster that was Claude. His shirt was now not only soaked in pee but splattered with baby poop.
Claude could barely contain his joy, his tiny body shaking with a baby's version of maniacal laughter.
'Take that! The power of medieval diapers that can't hold a drop of pee! Eat your own mess, Theo!'
Theo, thoroughly defeated, stumbled backward, holding Claude at arm's length, his face a mix of shock and disgust.
Dalia, trying hard not to laugh, hurried over to help clean up the mess. She couldn't help but giggle a little at the sight of Theo's miserable expression.
"Looks like someone needs a bath," she said, trying to stifle her laughter.
Meanwhile, he lay in Theo's arms, utterly pleased with himself. His tiny chest heaved from the exertion of his antics, but the smug satisfaction was worth it.
'Yeah, that's right. Don't mess with me, Theo. This baby means business.'
As Dalia attempted to calm Theo down and clean up the disaster, Claude gave one last baby giggle, eyes sparkling with mischief.
'That's what happens when you can't keep your pants to yourself!'
Dalia wiped the last bit of dirt from the floor and carefully cleaned Claude and laid him back into his crib, cooing softly as she adjusted his freshly changed diaper.
Meanwhile, Theo had already slipped out of the house, looking pale and miserable, no doubt rushing to rid himself of the lingering stench.
Claude, still basking in the satisfaction of his earlier "victory," stared at the ceiling and giggled to himself.
'Serves him right,' he thought smugly.
But before long, as always, the relentless pull of sleep crept in.
He hated how easily his new baby body fell into naps. He barely had time to stew in his triumph before drifting off.
It wasn't long before he was halfway between wakefulness and sleep when something odd stirred him. His ears caught the faint murmur of voices.
"Is this the baby?" A voice, unfamiliar and low, sent a chill through him.
Claude's heart skipped a beat as the next words followed.
"Should we kidnap him and take him to that place?"
Panic coursed through him. 'Kidnap me?!' His mind raced, but his body betrayed him, still as helpless as ever.
"Not yet, he's still too vulnerable for that," another voice replied.
That one, unmistakably, belonged to Theo. The man who'd just been covered in his baby's wrath.
'Theo?' Claude's chest tightened.
The man who had flinched at a baby's spit and pee, now calling him vulnerable and plotting something far worse?
'What the hell is going on?'
The helplessness of being a baby hit him harder than ever before.
No system, no powers, nothing. Just his little limbs and a voice that only produced giggles and gurgles.
He struggled to force his eyes open, but they felt heavy, resisting his effort. He caught the briefest glimpse of shadowy figures standing above him, their faces blurry in the darkness.
"Oh, I think he's waking up," Theo's voice said, his tone eerily calm.
Claude tried to move, but his small limbs refused to cooperate. Then, without warning, he felt a hand—Theo's hand—gently cover his eyes. Darkness swallowed his vision.
"Should we erase his memory?"
Theo chuckled softly. "No need. He's just a baby. He understands nothing."
That was the last thing Claude heard before sleep finally overtook him, pulling him into a deeper slumber than he'd ever felt before.
But even as sleep claimed him, an uneasy feeling gnawed at his mind.
'I understand more than you think, Theo. And when I wake up…'