Takuto Kimura, 10 years and 2 months old, had now entered his seventh year since his reincarnation.
The torrential rain relentlessly soaked Tokyo to its core in the dead of night, a cascade of water drenching the city’s neon-lit streets. Beneath the awning of a convenience store, a small figure huddled, drenched, inside a children’s raincoat. Takuto Kimura clutched in his hands the crisp banknotes he had just withdrawn from an ATM—his precious New Year’s money, carefully saved up over the past year. This modest sum would serve as his initial capital to purchase a second-hand computer, one that could connect to the internet and help him embark on the path to his ultimate goal.
"Meow—"
The faint cry barely made it through the torrent of rain, almost swallowed up by the sound of the downpour. Takuto turned his head and, to his surprise, noticed a small calico cat huddled beside a vending machine, its green and gold eyes glowing faintl
When Takuto Kimura opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was a strong, pungent smell of milk. He blinked, and instead of the familiar ceiling of his office, he saw rows of colorful cartoon stickers and crooked children's drawings.“Where am I?” he tried to ask, but all that came out was a soft, pitiful “Ee-ya?”Takuto: "......"In horror, he looked down. Chubby, pudgy little fingers. A onesie with a smiling bear print. A suspicious squishy feeling around his backside. And the kicker? His legs didn’t touch the floor.“Diaper?!” he screamed internally. “How is it that I’m the CEO of a publicly traded tech company, and I’m wearing a diaper?! I negotiated a merger while getting an endoscopy once. How did I end up here!?”As if summoned by his silent agony, a bright, sing-songy voice chimed in."Ah, little Takuto is awake?" The caregiver, Yamada-sensei, who looked to be fresh out of college and full of condescending cheer, bustled over. “Nap time is over, time for a snack~”No, no sn
During snack time, Takuto Kimura sat in a child-sized plastic chair, mechanically chewing small pieces of apple like they were yesterday’s stock report. His chubby fingers gripped a sippy cup of warm milk, and though he looked like any other three-year-old, behind those round cheeks and tiny feet lived the calculating mind of a corporate shark.Since escaping his baby body was proving more difficult than an IPO in a recession, Takuto decided to embrace the situation. He had once risen from intern to CEO in under five years. Surely, he could rise to the top of this preschool's power structure even faster. After all, this tiny society lacked basic market efficiency, no barriers to entry, and almost zero competition. It was ripe for disruption.His eyes sparkled—okay, twinkled cutely—at the idea.It all started during outdoor playtime.As the kids ran out to the sandbox, a cloud of glitter and chaos followed. There were tricycles crashing like bumper cars, screaming toddlers chasing each
Takuto Kimura had seen many dark days in business.He had survived hostile takeovers, market crashes, and that one time the coffee machine in the office broke and the interns tried to replace it with herbal tea. But nothing—nothing—could compare to the tragedy of watching a brand-new iPhone slowly sink into a puddle of warm baby pee inside a toy tent shaped like a cartoon dinosaur.Moments earlier, it had all seemed so promising.“Finally! A chance to contact the outside world!” Takuto whispered, eyes gleaming with desperate hope as he cradled his mother’s smartphone like it was the Holy Grail. He had found it hidden in her wallet, nestled between loyalty cards and old tissues—clearly underestimating her digital defense strategy.He darted into the nearby toy tent like a tiny fugitive, hands trembling with excitement. “If I can just contact Vice President Nakajima, I can initiate a covert operation to restore my adult body!”Pointing the phone’s camera at his squishy, baby-fat-plumped
Takuto Kimura, now three years old, found himself ensconced in the plush, pastel-colored world of kindergarten—a far cry from the high-rise boardrooms and corporate strategies he was accustomed to. The nap room, with its rows of tiny cots and the faint scent of baby powder, was a particular enigma. Today, however, it presented an opportunity he couldn't resist: the legendary Tyrannosaurus rex blanket. This blanket was the ultimate symbol of prestige and power within the kindergarten world. Its soft fabric, warm embrace, and most importantly, its majestic embroidered T-Rex logo had made it the most sought-after commodity. And Takuto, having been given a second chance at life—this time as a toddler—was determined to secure it.Squatting in the corner, Takuto meticulously sketched a SWOT analysis on the back of a diaper packaging using crayons. His objective was clear: secure the coveted blanket. He analyzed the strengths (softness, warmth), weaknesses (limited availability), opportuniti
Takuto Kimura crouched behind the kindergarten storage cabinet, writing a cheat sheet on his palm with a crayon. Today was his first parent-teacher meeting since being reborn, and it was the perfect opportunity to interact with his former business partners. You see, Takuto was no ordinary three-year-old. He had been a high-powered corporate executive in his past life, and he had every intention of applying those same high-stakes skills to the world of kindergarten. Today was an important day: he would have the chance to reconnect with old acquaintances, strategize, and maybe—just maybe—take over the sandbox empire."Listen up, little bear," he whispered, pressing his favorite stuffed toy against the wall. "Later, you’ll distract the teacher for me. I need to investigate three targets: 1) Vice President Nakajima's wife, 2) Competitor Matsumoto’s wife, and 3) that one who always sends wellness messages in the parent group—maybe she's the HR director from my past life."The black eyes of
Takuto Kimura stood at the edge of the sandbox, his chubby little hands clenched into fists. The morning sunlight shone on his baby-fat face, casting a few traces of incongruous solemnity. His eyes narrowed with the precision of a seasoned executive evaluating a new business opportunity. He was a man—er, a toddler—with a mission."Since I can't go back for now," he solemnly announced to the sandbox, "I will rebuild my business empire right here."As soon as he finished speaking, a snot bubble popped on the tip of his nose."Damn metabolism!" he grumbled under his breath, fumbling to wipe it off. But his sleeves were too long and, in a most tragic turn of events, he tripped over them, tumbling face-first into the sand pile. When he finally managed to get up, his face red from both the fall and his indignity, he realized that all the other kids had paused to stare at him."What’s Little Takuto playing with?" Ai-chan, a petite girl with twin pigtails, asked with a quizzical tilt of her h
Takuto Kimura lay on his nap mat, his little chubby arms sprawled out as he carefully studied his crayon work. His gaze was focused, his furrowed brow the picture of concentration. On the inside of his arm, in vivid red and yellow crayon, he had written: "Feasibility Report on the Monopoly of Sandbox Production Materials." This was not some simple toddler scribble—it was the blueprint for the next big thing. Or, at least, his next big thing. Sunlight streamed through the classroom windows, casting striped shadows across his round face, making him look like a zebra plotting something very, very suspicious."Direct transactions are too risky," Takuto muttered quietly, instinctively licking the jelly residue at the corner of his mouth. "I need to establish an underground distribution network."As his mind raced through potential strategies, a noise interrupted his concentration. Kenta, who had been lying next to him on his nap mat, rolled over with a grunt. Takuto quickly shoved his arm
Takuto Kimura, a self-proclaimed genius of logistics and strategic brilliance, crouched at the edge of the sandbox, the sun casting a merciless spotlight on his furrowed brow. He was so absorbed in his "logistics strategy" that he hadn't noticed the sweat streaming down his face, threatening to dive straight into his meticulously drawn map. Takuto took a deep breath and muttered under his breath, "The straight-line distance from the sandbox to the swing area is only 15 meters, but the kids have to detour around the climbing frame. Inefficient, terribly inefficient." He paused, his twig tapping the ground as if pondering the meaning of life itself. "Ah, but that’s it! This is the blue ocean market!"Of course, his grand revelation was interrupted when the bead of sweat he'd been trying to avoid finally dropped, splashing right onto the "Profit Forecast" section of his map. Takuto stared at the ruined data, horrified. "Even my sweat glands are shorting my project…" he groaned.As the cl
Takuto Kimura, 10 years and 2 months old, had now entered his seventh year since his reincarnation.The torrential rain relentlessly soaked Tokyo to its core in the dead of night, a cascade of water drenching the city’s neon-lit streets. Beneath the awning of a convenience store, a small figure huddled, drenched, inside a children’s raincoat. Takuto Kimura clutched in his hands the crisp banknotes he had just withdrawn from an ATM—his precious New Year’s money, carefully saved up over the past year. This modest sum would serve as his initial capital to purchase a second-hand computer, one that could connect to the internet and help him embark on the path to his ultimate goal."Meow—"The faint cry barely made it through the torrent of rain, almost swallowed up by the sound of the downpour. Takuto turned his head and, to his surprise, noticed a small calico cat huddled beside a vending machine, its green and gold eyes glowing faintl
On 2:15 a.m, A soft nightlight was still glowing in the children's bedroom of Takuto Kimura.The nine-year-old boy sat cross-legged on his bed, surrounded by three electronic devices.On his tablet: a detailed diagram of “Physiological Changes During Puberty.”On his phone: a Stanford lecture on developmental biology.On his laptop: a freshly finished report titled “Feasibility Analysis on Accelerating Puberty Progression.”“According to available data,” he muttered, pushing up his round glasses as they slipped down his nose, “the average age for male secondary sexual characteristics to appear is 12.4 years, but by increasing protein intake and stimulating growth hormone secretion...”A sudden screeching of alley cats outside made him jump, nearly flinging his stylus across the room.This “former CEO with the soul of a thirty-year
Takuto Kimura stood at the blackboard, explaining the solution steps for last week’s math quiz—a routine task in his capacity as the class’s “Academic Consultant.”His analysis was precise, even incorporating elements of Bayesian probability theory. Everything was proceeding smoothly… until his gaze happened to drift toward the window-side seat in the third row.Transfer student Haruko Sato was taking notes.Sunlight danced across the tips of her light brown hair. The way she furrowed her brows slightly in thought made Takuto forget entirely what he was talking about.“Therefore, we can deduce that… uh…”His voice trailed off. He felt like his CPU had just overheated.“This... that…”The entire class stared in shock. Their usually eloquent “Little Professor” had suddenly become a stammering mess. Miu, sitting nearby,
Takuto Kimura stood in front of the height-measuring device at the school’s annual physical, wearing a face more grim than a CEO reading a bankruptcy report.“156.3 centimeters,” the school nurse announced flatly. “That’s a 2.1 centimeter increase from last year.”The number hit Takuto like a punch to the gut. He stared at the growth chart on the health report like it was a plummeting stock graph.“Impossible!” he screamed internally.“With my nutrition and exercise regimen, I should at least be at the average line!”After school, he locked himself in his room and dove headfirst into data analysis. His walls were plastered with handmade charts:Correlation Between Daily Calcium Intake and Height GrowthGraph of Sleep Duration vs. Growth Hormone SecretionPeer Height Grow
Takuto Kimura stood in front of the bathroom mirror, having just finished wiping the water from his face—when suddenly, his eyes locked onto something on his forehead.A single pimple.Bright red. Perfectly round. Boldly positioned right between his eyebrows like it was challenging him. It stood tall like a miniature volcano, moments from erupting.“This can’t be happening!”He sucked in a sharp breath. His finger trembled as it moved closer to the blemish, like it was pointing at a financial market crash indicator.“I’ve been meticulous with my skincare! Twice-daily cleansing, oil-control toner, moisturizing lotion, even weekly deep-clean masks!”Leaning closer, he examined the business-image-destroyer in full detail. It was plump, glossy, and somehow gleaming under the bathroom light, as if announcing:“You, Takut
Takuto Kimura stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at his throat as if it harbored a hostile business rival."This can't be happening..." he muttered, gently pressing a finger to his Adam’s apple. His voice, however, came out like a duck being strangled."My vocal cords... have betrayed me."Just yesterday, he had delivered a rousing presentation titled “Proposal for Optimizing the Household Snack Quota” at the family meeting, using what he believed to be a steady, magnetic baritone. But this morning, when he tried to bark out a command to his sister—“Return the mechanical pencil you took without asking, immediately!”—his voice abruptly glitched, dropping from a commanding baritone into something between a dolphin squeal and a deflating tire."—Screeeeek!"His sister froze for two seconds, then erupted in laughter powerful enough to blow the roof off."Big bro! You sound like a frog caught in a door!"Takuto’s expression shifted from shock to shame to fury, finally settling i
When the first ray of morning sunlight peeked through the curtain, Takuto Kimura’s LEGO financial empire was at its peak.In the middle of his bedroom stood a proud 4-square-meter replica of the Tokyo Stock Exchange. The glowing “electronic trading board” (scribbled with highlighters) blinked above the floor. Twelve LEGO minifigures, all dressed in tiny suits he had hand-cut from old socks and paper, stood neatly in formation on the “trading floor.”“The Nikkei opens up 0.8% today,” Takuto announced in a voice deepened by puberty—or at least his best attempt. Adjusting his imaginary glasses, he carefully shifted a red LEGO block representing Toyota stock. “Toyota has broken through the ¥8,000 mark. Commence block trade…”Suddenly, the door slammed open.“Onii-chan! Play house with me!”Five-year-old Mei Kimura burst in, clutching her one-eyed teddy bear. Her little feet stomped straight into the banking sector, smashing a section of clear bricks.“Don’t move! That’s the Bank of Japan’
To prepare for an emergency rate-hike meeting, Takuto Kimura had constructed an entire financial system using LEGO:--A main trading hall made from red bricks--An electronic display board crafted from shiny silver candy wrappers--Individual trader stations, each minifigure equipped with a miniature calculatorTakuto ushered all the LEGO central bank “committee members” into the meeting chamber using a LEGO police car. The meeting room—a circular hall built from multicolored blocks—was the centerpiece of his "Tokyo Stock Exchange 2.0," a project that had taken three full weekends to build and now occupied two-thirds of his bedroom. Even his beloved dinosaur plushies had been exiled to the closet for the time being.“Committee members,” Takuto intoned in a deliberately deep voice, pushing up the wire-rimmed glasses he had made himself, “we are now convening an emergency monetary policy meeting.”He had even put on one of his father’s old ties for the occasion. It trailed on the floor
Takuto Kimura sat in the back row of the classroom, squinting thoughtfully as he observed the stationary economy of his fourth-grade class. His eyes locked onto the ultimate prize: his desk mate Kenta Kobayashi’s pencil case—a brand-new Transformers Limited Edition Auto-Open Pencil Case. It had magnetic layers, a built-in calculator, even an LED flashlight.In the world of elementary school supplies, this thing was pure luxury.“This is a classic bubble,” Takuto muttered, pushing up his imaginary glasses (actually made from LEGO bricks). “Overpriced, overdesigned… It’s bound to collapse under its own excess.”He flipped open his notebook and quickly drafted a Pencil Case Market Risk Assessment Chart:| **Evaluation Criteria** | **Kobayashi's Case** | **Ordinary Case** | |---------------------------------|---------------------------|----------------------------| | **Functionality** | ★★★★★(Overkill) | ★★★☆☆(Balanced) | | **Durability**