My Future Self Is Dead Chapter 2

I was puzzled.

The comments were also puzzled.

[What does this mean? Why did he let Pajama Lady in?]

[Maybe he saw her and was reminded of his mother when she was younger? But there have been other Players like that before!]

[Ahhh! She just walked in without wiping her feet! Doesn't the son have mysophobia?]

I glanced at my dirty feet.

Quietly, I retreated to the rug in the foyer.

The child, however, said nothing. He simply took out a pair of grey slippers from the shoe cabinet. As he handed them to me, he noticed the bloodstain by my foot and visibly winched.

"So dirty."

"..."

What have I given birth to? This kid's temper was awful. Not like me, not like Garrison.

I slipped on the slippers and walked into the living room. Immediately, I came face to face with a very familiar countenance.

My own face.

But it looked much more mature, bearing the marks of time. She tilted her head, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Are you… a Player? Please leave. Now that I’m back, there’s no need for your futile efforts."

I didn’t reply, simply studying her.

Studying this “me” from ten years in the future.

The child also remained silent, finding a first-aid kit and handing it to me. He pointed at my foot. "Clean that up."

My heart softened a little. I took the first-aid kit and thanked him. "Thank you. What's your name?"

His eyes dimmed, as if with disappointment. "Adam."

After that, he returned to the sofa, busying himself with his phone, not looking at me again. The Player also seemed to relax, settling comfortably beside Adam, smiling at me. "Next time, maybe do your homework before you come."

She peeled an orange and handed it to Adam, who naturally took it and put it in his mouth. Mother and son, harmonious.