In my past life, I was a salary worker.
After college, I landed my first job at a ga co-operation.
But the working conditions drove to insanity.
I realized with a sick feeling, from the mont I started working, that the cooperation was an exploitative company.
I arrive at the office at six o'clock in the morning without sparing ti for a cup of coffee, then head diving into a truckload of tasks.
There were relentless etings, constant deadlines, and multiple unfinished projects.
I had no lunch breaks instead I ate at my desk while trying to complete my tasks.
All my colleagues looked like zombies, trapped in the sa vicious cycle of work.
I an, why not? We were underpaid and overworked.
Overti was a norm. I would look at the dates on my phone and realized it's been two weeks since I slept at ho.
And yet, I'll spend hours staring at spreadsheets and report's plastered on my computer screen.
I hated this job as much as I hated my boss.
My health deteriorated due to nurous sleepless nights. I even developed an ulcer.
It was a horrifying life that I had to endure for sixteen dreadful years. Then one day, my life took a wild turn that changed everything.
I was fired.
It was a terrible mistake I made at work and my boss was so livid with that he gave the sack.
At age 34, I was depressed and unemployed with no savings, no wife and no kids. Finding a new job these days was nearly as impossible as finding a needle in a haystack.
So I did what all frustrated depressed folks do; go to a bar and drown myself in alcohol.
I was a failure. I couldn't do anything aningful with my tragic life.
That very night, drunk and half conscious, I staggered into the road with a bottle in my hand.
The last thing I saw was a white truck crashing down into . The screeching noise of tires kissing against the asphalt road told all I needed to know.
My miserable life as I knew it, has finally co to an end!
Or so I thought....
* * * *
"Congratulations, Lady Myra. It's a boy," a girl's voice ca to .
My blurry vision adjusted as it focused on the girl with white short hair and two long pointy ears.
An elf? I don't believe it. Is that really an elf?
"Bring him to ," another woman said.
The elf girl picked up as if I weighed a feather and placed in the arms of the second woman.
This woman was a beauty, possibly in her early twenties. A warm smile played on her lips as she stared at .
"Oh, Iris, he's so beautiful," she said, tears smarting her eyes. "Have you ever seen such golden eyes?"
So the elf girl's na is Iris, huh? How interesting.
Iris ca over. "He's indeed a beautiful baby, my lady. What shall we na him?"
Myra wiped her tears with the back of her hand. "I've already thought about it. I'll na him Archer."
I blinked twice. Sothing strange has happened to .
Glancing down, I noticed my feets and hands were tiny and the two won looked like giants from my perspective.
It only took sixty seconds to figure it out. I have just been reincarnated and this woman is my new mother.
Iris leaned forward, staring suspiciously at . "How strange. Most babies cry when they're born but he's unusually quiet."
Myra must've been thinking the sa thing for she peered at closely, a worried expression written on her face. "Now that you ntioned it, you're right."
Seeing their growing suspicion, I opened my mouth and pretended to cry out like a normal baby would.
The tension in their eyes eased off a bit. "Thank goodness," Myra laughed. "I actually thought sothing was wrong with him."
Well, it's not like she gets it. I was, after all, reincarnated with all the mories of my past life intact.
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