And yet… there's something else.
How are humans in this world still alive?
Ah, wait… If I combine the strength of my mother's body with those monsters…
That must mean humans here are capable of defending themselves.
Looks like I'll have to take back that old joke…
Back to the kitchen, ladies!
Long live masculinity—and may feminist sarcasm vanish from existence!
Ah… for a moment there, it felt like my manhood had truly returned.
What a glorious feeling, to reclaim your trampled dignity.
Damn that old woman… my whole body aches because of her.
Why did you have to sleep next to me?
You and your cursed nightmares—go die already!
…Just kidding, of course. Without you, I'd surely die for real.
But that doesn't give you the right to beat me in your sleep!
Also, how insane does a woman have to be to leave a newborn—barely a day old—alone in a house?
Not just in a room… but the entire house!
Seriously, she's utterly insane. Completely cursed.
I started looking around…
And there it was, the very thing I tried so hard to escape—
Thinking about my mother, joking about masculinity and feminism…
The truth is… darkness and loneliness are my fiercest enemies.
I began to panic.
A strange fear crept into me.
My heart raced.
If this continued, I was sure I would die.
Oh God… what do I do?
This world is mocking me.
Even my own body and soul have turned against me.
Now they, too, are trying to kill me.
Damn all of you… I won't fall so easily.
A wave of pure rage surged within me.
From the moment I was born until now, not a single peaceful day.
The whole world toys with me, as if I'm nothing but easy prey.
And now my body… my own head… are starting to believe it, too.
I tried to use my hands to grab my head and strike it—
To prove I'm not some soft morsel waiting to be devoured.
And in the middle of this frenzy… my mother walked in.
I exhaled in relief, as if the irrational wave of rage I had been drowning in had suddenly been extinguished.
I had been starting a fight with my body, with my head, with the whole damn world.
I was blaming everything—just to stop that panic attack.
Otherwise, I would've ended up a corpse.
That irrational burst of rage… did it save me?
Maybe it did.
Maybe not.
If she hadn't walked through that door at the exact moment she did, I might have seriously hurt myself.
Yes… it was an unjustified outburst—
Against everything—
But it was necessary for survival.
Even against her.
I had to pick a fight with anything I knew…
Because I was truly desperate.
Today, I survived thanks to my mother.
But tomorrow… how will I survive?
Living inside this woman's womb has already inflicted severe psychological damage.
How am I supposed to live if she leaves me again?
How can I face this madness alone?
If her return saved me, her absence might destroy me.
Maybe today I tricked my fear by turning it into anger—
And it just so happened that she entered the room.
But… can I count on being that lucky every day?
Honestly, I doubt it.
Also… what the hell is wrong with me?
Why do I call her "Mother" sometimes… and other times "that cursed old woman"?
Honestly…
She does deserve the title of "cursed old "!