Loki: The Reborn Mother

page views:1 Publication date:2023-06-11 09:29:47

"Loki's Reborn Mother in the Human World"

(Part 1)

Published: 26-9-2 I stared silently at the naked "girl" on the screen before me

. She knelt on the plush carpet like a dog, enduring the frenzied thrusting of the muscular man behind her, who was extremely aroused. The enormous penis entering and exiting the "girl's" anus brought out a few strands of white fluid. The "girl" rolled her eyes back, enjoying it all, her constant moans sounding like the most alluring cries a girl could make. The "girl" was snow-white, her skin as delicate as tofu. With the man's beast-like thrusts, her skin rippled like snow waves, and her enormous breasts, swaying wildly, were incredibly striking. From afar, she looked like an exaggerated body from an erotic anime, exquisitely beautiful to the point of being unreal. She had a beautiful Eastern face, but with extremely natural and beautiful golden wavy curls. With each impact from behind, his lower body swung, revealing a limp, pale, and smooth penis, devoid of any hair. A week ago, while I was regularly descending to the mortal realm for my spiritual practice, I encountered this "girl" before me. Back then, "she" was a shy and amateurish cross-dressing boy. His thin body reeked of being a transvestite, adorned with a cheap wig, and his clothing was utterly tacky. When he learned that I could easily alter his physical characteristics, a mad glint flashed beneath his rough eyeshadow. I fulfilled almost all of his requests, including natural blonde hair, a stunningly beautiful feminine face, a captivating girlish voice, a naturally voluptuous figure, pale skin, and a firm, elastic anus. Although he requested to retain his penis, it had to be free of pubic hair and never erect. A more difficult wish was to give him endless sexual desire, ensuring that intercourse would never be satisfying. This was somewhat challenging for me, as I couldn't yet coordinate and control my emotions and psychological reactions, but thankfully, after some effort, I succeeded. I had absolutely no interest in knowing the details of his motives and perverse tastes; this was merely an observation assignment from my tutor. To fulfill one's physical needs, one must first satisfy one's desires. Watching the two people on the screen indulging in passion, after another intense ejaculation, the man standing behind them collapsed to the ground, while the "girl," with a dazed expression, crawled back over, continuing to tease the suffering . Since her rebirth, she had already had wild sex with dozens of men this week; almost every man, attracted by her bewitching beauty, was drained of his essence and fled in panic. I rested my chin on my hand, boredly watching the satisfaction on the "girl's" face, knowing that her time was running out . Anyone who dares to associate with "endlessness" or "eternity" will ultimately be devoured by it, both mentally and physically. We have the ability to give her a continuous sexual desire, but we cannot provide her with the corresponding energy and stamina. She seemed to be living in paradise, yet her life was slowly decaying. I felt a little irritated and closed the virtual window. Standing up from the cold shell of the space station, I looked at the blue planet before me, habitually thinking about small things from my past as a human. Unconsciously, ten years had passed. Ten years ago, I was just an ordinary person who had just experienced twenty-odd years of life, so when the doctor told me that my mother had terminal cancer , it was undoubtedly a bolt from the blue. I walked out of the department and tried to calm myself down by telling my mother, whose hair was turning gray, a lie, stammering that everything was fine. But how could such a clumsy performance hide it from my mother who had watched me grow up? Under her repeated questioning, I painfully and helplessly told her the truth. My mother listened quietly to my words, but remained very calm, instead comforting me, slowly and peacefully saying that what was bound to happen would happen. I painfully avoided my mother's eyes and went to the courtyard outside the hospital alone under the pretext of going to Finally, I couldn't hold back my sobs. My mother had never enjoyed any happiness in her life. After my father passed away, she silently shouldered the burden of the family alone. Although she was not yet fifty, the years had prematurely turned her hair white. My mother was an ordinary woman, neither beautiful nor exceptionally talented. For many years, she had only been a lowly employee at the town's water conservancy bureau, but in my heart, she was the most extraordinary woman. To ease the burden on the family, I immediately started working after graduating from university. Although I was just a low-level employee in another city, I struggled desperately to make ends meet, but life was slowly starting to improve. Just when the family was about to get back on track, this happened. I couldn't help but cry and shout at the blazing sun, filled with resentment and bitterness, "Is this what you wanted?!" I had never resented the injustice of fate as much as I did at this moment, "Is this the answer you give to kind people?!" I clenched my fists, my heart twisted with resentment, when suddenly my shoulder was patted. "Young man, don't hate him anymore. That guy up there was just an idiot." I was startled, completely unaware of anyone approaching. A lean, middle-aged man with a white beard, wearing a black leather jacket, stood beside me. His hair was bleached with a touch of green, somewhat unconventional yet stylish and elegant. I felt incredibly embarrassed. I hadn't wanted to show these emotions to anyone, and suddenly my confidence vanished . Suppressing my sadness, I planned to walk away silently. But he called out to me from behind: "Kid, do you want to save your mother's life? Her illness is treatable!" I froze, turning around abruptly. "How do you know about my mother?" I thought. There was no one in the ward when I told my mother. Was he the doctor? Doesn't this guy know anything about privacy?! I was about to explode, ready to angrily confront him, when he suddenly smiled and blew on me. I suddenly felt weak all over and involuntarily collapsed to the ground. "Quiet down, young man. Don't get agitated. If you really want to save your mother, come to the riverside park tonight."

"I can only stay on the ground for a little while~"

After hearing his strange words, I raised my eyelids and watched him turn and leave. With long, flowing steps,

his jacket gradually transformed into a long, dark green cape, and his figure faded into tiny specks of light, disappearing completely.

I stared in shock at everything before me, shaking my head to try and figure out if what I was seeing was an illusion. Just as

I felt the strongest wave of exhaustion and drowsiness, I suddenly snapped awake. I immediately stood up and

looked ahead where he had disappeared—no one was there.

This was at the end of the fourth-floor corridor; there was nothing in front of me except for the suspended end.

My mind was a complete mess. What had just happened seemed more and more like a hallucination, yet it also felt all too real. I

sighed heavily and walked into the ward. Looking at my mother lying on the bed, lost in thought, grief overwhelmed me once more

.

The follow-up treatment plan hadn't been determined yet. The hospital decided to give my mother and family some time to make a decision.

Relatives from home came to keep watch for me that night, but I didn't go straight home.

Although I still tended to disbelieve what I had seen during the day, a strange urge compelled

me to walk towards the riverside park, repeatedly pondering what that "person" meant.

When I arrived at the "appointment" location, the park was deserted. Gazing at the dark and silent surroundings,

a nameless disappointment and self-deprecating sorrow welled up within me.

As I was about to leave, a hand, just like that morning, landed on my shoulder. Looking up, I saw

it was the green-haired old man. I was so surprised I almost screamed.

He put his hand to his mouth in a shushing gesture, gesturing for me to walk towards the riverbank.

"Who are you?" I asked dazedly, watching as he conjured a

cane , instantly changing the direction of the weeds blocking my path and creating a way in front of me.

"The rules of the universe, humanity's hopes, the nurturing of the earth—or you could simply call it, a god,"

he said softly, pausing before suddenly turning to me and asking, "Shouldn't you have more pressing concerns here

?"

I was momentarily stunned, then suddenly remembered and exclaimed, "You said my mother could be saved! What is this?!"

After a series of miracles, I no longer doubted the mystery of his identity, and I recalled his

method for restoring my mother's health.

"A god, what great problem is a mortal body?" he said slowly.

Having accepted this premise, I stopped considering anything else and asked, "What are the conditions?

Isn't this a demon's choice? Do I have to indulge in soul-swapping or shorten my lifespan?"

He turned to look at me with a contemptuous smile. "What's your soul worth? Don't watch too many mindless dramas."

My face flushed. Before I could ask, he continued, "The only condition is that you have to

do it ."

I was stunned. He leaned close to my face, his eyes filled with intense curiosity and a strange look,

staring at me as he said, word by word, "Loki never plunders, he only satisfies more."

That night, I went to the inpatient ward. I let my sleepy relatives go home and quietly sat down beside my mother's

bed to avoid disturbing the other patients and their families.

I looked at my mother's quiet, thin face, and tentatively touched the corner of her eye with my finger, silently reciting my

thoughts.

At that moment, the crow's feet at the corner of my mother's eye slowly disappeared. A miracle had truly happened!

I suppressed my almost ecstatic joy and took several deep breaths to calm the urge to shout.

Loki hadn't lied to me after all! I quickly calmed down and, following his instructions, tapped my

temples. Like a switch, I entered a dark space with my sleeping mother.

It was a virtual visual platform; my mother floated naked in the air before me, like a user interface

. My mother and I didn't actually leave the ward.

The sight of my mother's naked body made me a little embarrassed. These were the detailed perceptions projected into my mind;

even with my eyes closed, the curves of each pubic hair were clearly imprinted in my mind.

I could even feel the softness of her skin without using my hands.

According to Loki, this was a divine power system designed for human operation. Even with divine power,

humans couldn't perform complex operations, so he simulated and designed a system that mortals could easily use according to their

understanding —somewhat like the simple desktop graphical interface in the history of computers.

"Try not to think about complicated operations, okay? This is just...eta~" he said with a shy

smile .

"Why don't you do it yourself? Wouldn't that be simpler?" I asked, puzzled.

"Because that's why I've come to wander the human world," he smiled wickedly, gently tapping my forehead with his black

cane , a surge of immense power flowing in.

The vast knowledge and power of the universe overwhelmed me, leaving me somewhat disoriented. Satisfied, he turned away,

his body slowly disappearing, fading into tiny specks of light like daytime.

"The effect only lasts tonight, and can only affect one person. We'll meet again, young man."

I awoke with a surge of excitement and a feeling of unease, immediately followed by anxiety. How was I supposed to know

how to use it? Then I discovered he had actually printed the instructions within the power itself. Whenever doubts arose about its use

, a pre-existing memory would automatically pop into my mind, as if he had told me something long ago,

which reassured me considerably.

Did this guy used to work at Apple?

In short, I instinctively knew that the general operation of this ability involved altering the structure and properties of

the , and improving precision through layers of questioning and confirmation.

My attention was drawn to what was before me. My mother's body seemed to be illuminated in the darkness by a pale green light,

suspended naked before me, every cell of hers as if etched into my mind. What struck me most as most discordant...

A cluster of things—that must be the cancer cells.

I took a deep breath, trying to connect with these burning little demons. Through my intense

revulsion, they vanished in an instant.

I clearly felt my mother relax instantly, as if she'd been given a tranquilizer, letting out a long sigh in her sleep.

Almost instantly, I finished checking for anything I'd missed. My mother's cancer cells

were now less than normal, practically zero.

The next moment, I immediately repaired the other organs and tissues damaged by the cancer, completing the task in milliseconds

. After checking repeatedly, I opened my eyes and let out a long sigh. This seemingly incurable disease

had been cured in less than ten seconds.

I was shocked and a little bewildered. Was it really over? While I felt happy and relieved, I also

felt an endless sense of loss.

Is this what it means to be human? Are we really like ants before God? How insignificant are the anxieties and

despairs from a different perspective?

If everything goes smoothly, in the next few days of checkups, people will be astonished to find that my mother's

cancer completely cured, and there might even be blame for the doctor's misdiagnosis. After tonight, this power will vanish, and my

mother, my family, and I will return to peace—no, to mediocrity.

I feel my overflowing power, looking at my mother's body, glowing with a green light. The marks of time are

terrifying. The last time I saw my mother's body was when we were very young, bathing together. Unlike the youthful, vibrant body I

remembered , her waist, hips, and thighs were flabby, her breasts

flat and sagging, and the long C-section scar on her stomach was particularly striking.

Looking at the wrinkles on my mother's face and the strands of white hair on her head, thinking of her arduous first half of life, a

thought struck me, and I immediately reconnected with every cell in her body.

Mother, let me rejuvenate you.

From my memories, combating aging is largely just a change in the morphology of individual cells, unable to alter

the overall trend of lifespan.

Because reverse aging at the DNA level might alter brain nerves, affecting personality and memory, which is not

what I want. I first tried to enhance the functions of my mother's various systems, treating

her internal organs almost as they were twenty years ago— her heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys. With these thoughts, the wrinkles on her face and body began to disappear, her skin became firmer, and her face regained the youthful glow, starting to resemble the image I remembered. When I was about to dye her gray hair black, I stopped. Looking at her naked body, now showing signs of regaining some of its youthful vitality, a sense of unease arose. Although I tried to keep my actions as subtle as possible , would it still be too shocking for her and others? Even if I could use the excuse , I didn't want the family to lose its peace due to excessive attention. But the memories that suddenly surfaced in my mind seemed to speak to me with a slightly contemptuous tone: "Don't underestimate the gods . They dared to let mortals use them, they must have fully considered your stupidity! Rest assured, any changes you make will be unconditionally accepted and obeyed by her and those around her. Even if they sense a difference, they'll think they were mistaken . Plus, there will be a two-week buffer period to allow external objective causes and effects to gradually adapt to the changed facts. To put it bluntly, for her, only you know about these changes." Ah, really? While I felt relieved by this almost foolish convenience, I also felt an increasing sense of cheapness in human existence, like clay being played with by gods. In other words, I could change my mother's body at will without arousing any suspicion. Something seemed to explode in my mind; I felt my blood boil, as if I saw Loki's image in my mind suddenly crack open, revealing an extremely eerie smile. Ah, so that's it! Is this your purpose? Why choose mortals to operate it themselves? Why this series of almost paving-like, miraculous conveniences? Is this what you call "observation"? Loki's memory suddenly quieted down, like a hidden hunter. A strange emotion surged within me. Gazing at my mother's naked body, my breathing quickened, my heart pounded, and a me... First, I confidently dyed my mother's hair a glossy black, then smoothed away the C-section . Because of childbirth, my mother had basically said goodbye to tops and pants, wearing only long skirts, and was ashamed to go to any public bathhouse. This scar was a pain she couldn't speak of, and removing it felt like doing something worthwhile for her. Then, my eyes were fixed on my mother's pair of naked breasts. My gaze lingered, and I unconsciously swallowed. Having shed the dryness and wrinkles of aging, the two little white rabbits now possessed the tender whiteness of a young woman. Mother's areolas were large, her nipples inconspicuous, and their color particularly deep. The thought of being able to "arrange" them as I pleased stirred a strong sexual excitement within me. I couldn't look at this body with the same calm as before; my blood surged, and my thoughts raced. Mother 's areolas immediately shrank considerably, their color turning an alluring pink. I paused, exhaling. The next second, Mother's little white rabbits swelled up like ejected puddings, becoming enormous. Watching her large, cow-like breasts sag naturally to the sides under gravity, the entire…

The scene was both comically absurd and undeniably lewd.

Looking at the "cow" before me, my lower body throbbed, and looking up at my mother's still peacefully sleeping face,

I felt an utterly absurd sense of blasphemy.

I calmed myself, thinking I shouldn't go too far, so I shrunk my mother's breasts to a D or E

size, but they were still almost twice their original size. However, because of her small frame, it should

n't .

Next, I focused on the center of her breasts, almost as if using two invisible hands to forcefully

pinch them , and the two flat nipples were instantly lifted. They were exaggeratedly long and pointed, like plastic pacifiers.

The pink, pointed nipples and the enormous breasts created a visually enticing scene, and my focus

shifted significantly. With my heightened excitement, I unconsciously increased my speed.

I shrunk my mother's shoulders even further, making her entire bust appear even more magnificent. Then I adjusted

the fat to a level that would show off her abs, and shrunk her waist by almost half, creating an

upper body resembling that of a hot, athletic woman from the gym.

I was thrilled, like a thief, and my gaze shifted to her lower body. With a magical

wave , I lengthened my mother's legs, making her almost 17 or 18 centimeters taller, instantly

giving her a supermodel-like proportion.

Then I removed all the calluses from her feet caused by high heels and made her feet fuller and more supple.

Next, like rotating a 3D model, I rotated my mother's lower body 36 degrees, checking it repeatedly

.

I still felt something was off about those long legs, but I wasn't quite sure what it was.

Suddenly, a thought struck me: I wanted to test if the Loki system had an "upper" function.

When the Google window popped up, I immediately smiled knowingly and opened my familiar erotic forum

.

There were several posts about beautiful legs that I had saved; I planned to compare them and see where

the problem .

Throughout the entire process, I was completely unaware that I was projecting my sexual fetishes towards women onto my mother

, caught up in a frenzied, obsessive excitement.

Finally, when I browsed the second post, I discovered the crux of the matter.

The whiteness and smoothness of her skin brought about a qualitative change to her ordinary long legs. A pair of rough, athlete-like

legs, with their perfect proportions, naturally couldn't compare to the fair and delicate legs of a supermodel.

Understanding this, I immediately closed the app and went back to my mother.

I was determined to create incredibly arousing skin on my mother's legs and body.

Like adjusting an image, my mother's entire body of skin constantly changed its texture and

color under the influence of some kind of divine power, the judgment based on my own level of excitement.

Finally, at a certain point, I stopped. My mother's legs had now become white and translucent, with the blue veins

almost The exposed skin itself aroused a lewd urge to touch it

.

An additional effect of this adjustment was that my mother's upper body became particularly stunning.

The once fair skin had turned pinkish, while her breasts remained translucent and white,

with faint blue veins visible, their pink nipples drooping at an angle. Her recently done abs, thanks to this soft

texture, had an even more youthful feel.

Just looking at this sexy, fair, perfect body was enough to make my lower body extremely aroused, and I

instinctively focused my gaze on my mother's private parts.

Her messy, thick pubic hair and flat buttocks created a discordant contrast with this beautiful body.

Like a chef, I flipped my mother over, giving her a naturally upturned and

elastic ; the slightest touch elicited a jelly-like response.

Then I roughly turned her back over, her body and breasts trembling, appearing both lewd and comical. A smile

played on my lips as I stripped all of my mother's pubic hair, revealing the smooth mound and slit before me

. Only then did I realize that the pigmentation there hadn't been properly removed.

Naturally, her brown labia quickly turned pink, delicate and supple. A wisp of

fine .

Gazing at this fleshy opening before me, a crazy idea came to mind again. "

Mom, let me turn you into a masterpiece."

To change the texture of the vagina, I had to explore its interior first. My feeling was like an erect

penis, thrusting into my mother's lower body without hesitation.

Although my mother had mostly lived alone for many years, her vagina still felt loose and

lifeless. I recalled the sensations of my first few times with my girlfriend, how I tightened my mother's vagina, reducing

its size by at least half and increasing the folds in the vaginal walls.

Furthermore, I don't know where the inspiration came from, but I extended a portion of the clitoral nerves into the vagina

, increasing the output of the secretory glands and the strength of the vaginal muscles.

Imagining what would happen here, I couldn't help but get excited.

By this point, everything I had done had long deviated from the original plan and the norm.

After turning my mother's anus pink, I was like a madman, frantically searching for anything else that could be changed.

My attention settled on my mother's peaceful, sleeping face.

I chuckled a few times. "Mom, let me give you a makeover."

I thickened my mother's originally very light eyebrows into two crescent moons, made her lips redder and fuller, created a sexy look

, opened the corners of her eyes to the most harmonious angle, added perfect double eyelids, and reduced her cheekbones

. After what seemed like an eternity, I came to my senses, and a stunningly beautiful, naturally beautiful woman's face appeared before me. I looked at the exquisite face of this perfect woman beneath me as if

admiring a masterpiece.

But who was this woman?

As I was about

to call out my mother's name in my mind, I suddenly

felt

a chill run down my spine at the sight of her stunningly beautiful face. I remembered everything I had just done and felt a horrified dread.

What had I done? This woman, born from my lustful desires, was definitely not

my mother!

Panicked, I immediately shut down the system and returned to reality. I covered my face and

glanced to the side.

In the dim light, my mother lay peacefully asleep on the hospital bed, but due to her rapidly increasing bust size,

the buttons on her bra had burst open, revealing her left breast, its erect nipple standing out prominently.

I quickly and gently helped my mother gather her clothes and cover her with the blanket, but as I approached her face,

that completely unfamiliar face immediately plunged me back into hell.

I trembled inexplicably and immediately reopened the system, trying to change my mother's face back to its former

appearance .

Ironically, although I remembered what my mother looked like before, I couldn't find any precise

details to recreate it. Adding to my lifelong lack of skill in drawing and analyzing facial proportions, if I were to mess around,

I might end up with a bizarre face that resembled my mother but wasn't her at all.

Oh no, this can't go on!

I immediately retreated to the real world, trying to stop myself from doing anything further. But looking at that unfamiliar

face, I couldn't suppress a powerful sense of panic. A wave

of overwhelming sadness washed over me; I felt my mother was about to leave me.

In my fear, Loki's smile in my memory became even more pronounced; I could even hear his laughter growing louder.

My mind began to turn to mush, my inner turmoil desperately trying to change something, and the only way to do so

was through the divine power's operating system.

I opened my bloodshot eyes wide and re-entered the operating system, staring at the dark green glow, trembling as

I prepared to revert everything back to normal. But a sliver of reason stopped me.

No, no, no, no! Continuing like this would only lead to madness!

Loki, Loki, Loki! That's it, Loki!

If divine power is truly this all-powerful, then putting me to sleep immediately shouldn't be difficult at all.

This strange power will disappear by tomorrow. But before that, I must stop

myself from losing control now.

Just as this thought crossed my mind, an overwhelming drowsiness, almost causing me to faint, immediately overwhelmed me.

After a fleeting thought of "this is fucking convenient," everything went black, and I fell asleep instantly. I was

awakened by the morning sunlight and the noisy sounds of the hospital at 8:30 AM. Looking up,

I saw my mother looking at me with gentle eyes. Although her gaze was somewhat complex, her mood was clearly

much .

I tested the power within my body, and sure enough,

it had vanished .

Looking at my mother's unfamiliar yet beautiful face, although I felt strange and a little regretful, I

was much calmer than I was last night. After all, when my mother spoke and smiled, I could clearly feel that this was the same woman I used to be,

which truly comforted me.

After I woke up, my mother soon got up and went to the bathroom, saying her chest hurt from the tightness and she needed to change her clothes. I

lowered my head in shame, thinking that all of my mother's underwear would probably need to be bought again.

When I got to the ward, I noticed that all the patients, nurses, and doctors were looking at my mother differently,

which startled me. I wondered if something was wrong.

But soon everyone returned to normal, and I knew it was divine intervention, and

they . However, this obvious change in aesthetic perception might

subtly alter my mother's interactions with others in the future.

Sure enough, during the detailed physical examination that afternoon, the hospital discovered a discrepancy. At my insistence, my mother

underwent a second tumor examination, which revealed a serious misdiagnosis.

I pretended to be very shocked and expressed my anger to the hospital, but I felt a pang of regret.

After learning all this, the joy of rebirth overshadowed my mother's anger towards the hospital, as if this experience

had given her a chance to rethink the meaning of life. The other patients in the ward offered their congratulations and envy.

After feigning anger at the hospital's carelessness, I didn't dwell on it or make a fuss. I accepted the hospital's apology and

minor compensation, completed the formalities, and returned home to peace.

After settling my mother in, I explained the situation to relatives, friends, and my workplace, and everyone congratulated me on

my mother's miraculous "recovery." After a week of rest, my mother returned to work, and I

went to work in another city.

Looking at the sky outside the company building, the past two weeks felt like a strange dream. Only when I looked at

the photos of my mother's completely transformed appearance on my phone did I realize that it had all actually happened.

I felt an instinctive fear of Loki's arrival, but even more so, a heartfelt gratitude.

A month later, taking advantage of a work holiday, I decided to visit my mother back home. After

the near-death experience, I understood even more the importance of spending time with family.

I hadn't seen my mother for a long time, and I wondered how her life had changed in the past month.

I still have a lot of faith in Loki's powers, because my mother seems to have recently figured out how to use social media platforms like Weibo and

WeChat Moments, often posting beautiful photos of her life, which suggests her life is going quite smoothly.

However, some of the flirtatious comments from strangers below the posts make me a little uneasy; I wonder which young man is

so captivated by a beautiful woman. I try to reassure myself that this is a positive change, after all, women are all

vain and love to hear compliments, and my mother rarely indulges in such vanity.

I opened the door and found no one home. As soon as I entered, I noticed a slightly different smell—it

smelled like a certain perfume .

My extremely frugal mother had actually started using perfume?!

Since she wasn't home, I put down my luggage and sat down in the living room. I didn't call, turned on the TV,

and decided to wait for her.

I habitually looked around, but the first thing I saw on the balcony was a dazzling array of lingerie.

My mouth dropped open. Almost all of them were sexy, dark-colored styles, practically erotic lingerie

. If I lived on the ground floor, many of these hot styles would definitely be stolen.

My conservative mother actually wore this!

I felt a little uneasy, but I reassured myself that it was okay. After all, most of her underwear was too old for her;

it was normal for her to change into something trendy.

Just then, I heard the door open. I stood up and saw a radiant

young woman . Upon closer inspection, I realized it was my mother.

I stared wide-eyed at my mother, who sported a head of stylish, wavy black hair, white vintage crescent

earrings, a fitted dark green dress, a black handbag with gold trim, and

delicate black stiletto sandals. Everything about her was new; she was the

kind of sophisticated young woman who would definitely stand out on the street.

When she saw me, she exclaimed in surprise and immediately ran over to give me a hug.

Because of our changed height, we were almost the same height now. My nose was close to her shoulder, and

I smelled the same perfume as in the house, a scent that felt slightly unfamiliar to me.

After asking how long I was staying and other trivial matters, my mother quickly changed into her

familiar orange loungewear and went to the kitchen to cook for me.

Seeing the slightly oversized clothes, I felt a little more at ease.

While she was in the kitchen, her phone rang incessantly, punctuated by her occasional

cheerful giggles.

Texting so frequently isn't like my mother, especially since she doesn't have many friends.

Curious, I walked to the kitchen door and saw my mother stop cooking, staring at her phone with a silly grin –

clearly the look of a young girl in love.

I asked suspiciously, "Mom, who is it? Why are you laughing so much?"

My mother suddenly jumped, looked back at me, composed herself, casually put her phone

in her pocket , and continued cooking, saying, "Oh, nobody, just some kid I don't know, always

being silly, hehe."

As she said this, a happy smile appeared on her face.

I said "Oh," and left, still full of questions, sitting on the sofa and watching

TV .

The kitchen continued to emit the frantic ringing of text messages and my mother's constant giggling.

This meal was the slowest my mother had ever cooked in my life, and the only time her excellent cooking

had a slightly burnt taste.

At the dinner table, watching my mother eat with a somewhat absent-minded look and a dazed expression,

I began to feel a vague sense of unease.

Was this the start of my so-called "observation"?

[Loki's Human World: Reborn Mother (Part 2)]

Author: t9853

Words: 795

Published: 26-9-4

Loki's Human World (Part 2)

About two months had passed since my last visit home. I had been busy with various company matters. On a rare free moment,

in the sweltering summer heat, I grabbed a watermelon and hitched a ride with a colleague to a small town.

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Arriving at the familiar courtyard gate, covered in sweat, I thought of the changes in my mother before I left last time, and my heart

kept pounding.

This time I didn't tell my mother beforehand, and as for why, I didn't know, but I always felt that coming

suddenly would make her discover something.

I turned a corner and came to the side of an alley. When I was a child, I could often see my own

balcony , and when I forgot to bring something when I went out, my mother could throw it down from here.

Sunlight streamed in, and I saw some summer women's t-shirts and unfamiliar denim shorts on the balcony,

along with a new little dress. I didn't see the sexy lingerie I'd seen before.

What puzzled me, however, were several clearly men's short-sleeved shirts and underwear scattered around. Had

I misremembered the location after so long, mistaking it for someone else's balcony?

I shook my head, enduring the suspicious gaze of the new security guard, and decided to go up first. I

quietly opened the door, and the sounds of a man and woman laughing and playfully teasing each other confirmed my unease.

I put down my luggage and watermelon, standing quietly at the doorway, listening intently to the laughter coming from the bedroom.

The woman seemed to be giggling from being tickled or something, and there were also slight slapping and scolding sounds.

I recognized my mother's voice, but the obvious allure and desire in it

was something I'd never heard before.

After a few muffled laughs from the man, both fell silent, except for the faint sound of saliva.

I was utterly shocked, so I immediately tapped on the shoe cabinet next to me, cleared my throat, and called

out, "I'm here."

A few hurried noises immediately came from inside, followed by the familiar clatter of slippers.

At that moment, I desperately hoped it wasn't my mother, but even a pair of thieves breaking into the house.

But when I reached the entryway, the woman who hurriedly tidied her disheveled hair, wearing revealing shorts and a crop top, looking embarrassed and

blushing, said to me, "Oh, why didn't you tell me beforehand?"—it was indeed my mother.

Her exceptionally beautiful face was now adorned with heavy eyeshadow, and her hair was a

soft, wavy, wheat-colored frizz. Her legs were crossed shyly like a young girl's, leaning against the wall, staring at me without a word.

I stared blankly at her smooth, flat stomach, where a rhinestone-studded belly button pierced the navel, gleaming

metallicly .

In a daze, I recalled a joke I used to discuss with my mother while watching TV. I

remember asking her when I was in high school

what , and she laughed and said she would try high-waisted jeans and a crop top, and preferably get a piercing.

It started as a joke we made while watching a fashion show on TV, and I didn't take it seriously. I never

imagined that given the circumstances, my mother would actually get a belly button piercing.

Coming to my senses, I said, "It was just a coincidence, I came to check it out. Look, I bought you a watermelon."

My mother chuckled and said "Oh," but I could tell her expression wasn't as happy as usual.

I walked inside without a word. My mother looked at me flustered, opening her mouth as if to say something.

I ignored her, turned around in the small living room, and through the open bedroom door, I saw a half-naked young man lying

on looked about my age, silently staring at his phone,

not even glancing in my direction, with a hint of impatience at being disturbed.

The sheets on my mother's bed were a mess, and dirty

men There were also some leftover snacks and beer cans on the coffee table. It was hard to imagine that our usually tidy home

had fallen into such a state, as if it had been ransacked by robbers.

I glanced at my mother, who looked somewhat embarrassed, and softly asked, "Who was this person?"

My mother stammered, "A junior colleague from work, who just happened to come over to visit today .

"

I said "Oh," and walked expressionlessly toward my bedroom. My mother's expression darkened even more.

As soon as I reached the door, I noticed that someone had slept in my bed, and next to it were a suitcase and

some items like charging plugs.

I stared directly at my mother, but she avoided my gaze, muttering under her breath as if explaining,

"That kid had nowhere to stay yesterday, so he slept here. You wait! I'll clean up right away!"

With that, my mother was about to leave, but I repeatedly said no, no, and

quickly , putting them into my suitcase.

I stared absently at the navel piercing on my mother's stomach. Although it looked incredibly

sexy against her perfectly sculpted belly, I still felt a bitter ache.

I went to the door and said, "Okay, I'm off to the office now. Remember to eat the watermelon, I'm leaving."

My mother instinctively asked, "Aren't you going to eat dinner?"

Haha, she really didn't want me to stay overnight.

"No, no, I'm leaving."

Even if I stayed, I wouldn't want to sleep in this bed.

Last time, although I left home in anger, I was still filled with worry for my mother, especially

seeing the mess in the house. I was very worried that her normal life would be disrupted by outsiders.

I couldn't blame my mother; no one is a saint when faced with temptation, and besides, I was the one who turned her into

this . Creating a spotlight naturally attracts a lot of mosquitoes at night.

It seems the impact of the Loki incident on my mother and me is far from over. Lately, every time I look up,

I feel that old man in the dark green clothes staring intently at me.

Two more months passed. During a phone call to check on my mother, I discovered her job position seemed to

be changing . A job she hadn't held for over twenty years had suddenly seen a dramatic leap in just six months.

It seems that for women, the workplace truly is a world where appearance matters.

Then, on an auspicious day, an aunt who had been a childhood colleague of my mother's in the Water Resources Bureau compound

was getting married. Since the daughter was my childhood playmate, both of us had a reason to attend.

Due to work, I didn't go home first and saw my mother directly at the wedding banquet. This time, she

had dyed her hair a smooth chestnut brown and cut it shorter. She wore a dark blue long dress, looking

exceptionally elegant yet exuding a mature woman's allure.

The uncles and aunts I knew all said my mother was getting younger with age, and she simply smiled throughout.

I didn't see that "junior" blond young man, and my mother wasn't sitting with me. Instead, she sat

next to a newly appointed leader, and the two chatted and laughed, seemingly without any awkwardness.

Because of the lively wedding, I didn't notice anything unusual. However, when the emcee joked with the newlyweds

, I glanced over and noticed my mother's expression was indeed abnormal, and the man next to her looked very

serious.

After my mother visibly trembled, I excused myself to get something, intending

to check if she was feeling unwell. When I

reached a spot at the back, I saw my mother's pale thigh exposed,

veins , being wantonly groped by the large hand of a somewhat obese middle-aged man.

Just as the man's hand was about to slip into the groin of my mother's thigh, she instinctively grabbed his hand,

but didn't stop him from going any further.

The guests nearby were completely absorbed in the emcee and the newlyweds on stage, utterly oblivious to the

live sex scene unfolding beside them.

I was so shocked I couldn't speak. Without disturbing anyone else, I turned and went to the restroom, splashing water on my face,

my mind a jumble of emotions.

I didn't go to the guest seating area afterwards, but stood near the restroom entrance smoking, my mind a complete mess,

vaguely responding to acquaintances passing by. After

what seemed like an eternity, I noticed my mother beside me. She was startled to see me there, and while washing her hands, she asked me reproachfully, "When did you learn to smoke, you little rascal?" I turned and smiled to the side, thinking how quickly I'd been promoted. Suddenly, I felt a surge of anger at my mother's beauty. Still smiling, I ignored her question and reached out to lift her skirt. My mother was startled and quickly slapped my hand away, muttering, "What are you doing! Are you crazy?!" But I continued, still grinning. "Nothing, nothing, I just wanted to see if you brought any nails today." Before I could finish speaking, my hand, which was about to lift my mother's skirt, froze. I had only intended to pull the skirt down to her belly button to embarrass her, but when I lifted it, I discovered that her lower body was completely bare! I could vaguely see a shaved mound and a five-pointed star tattoo next to it. I stared in disbelief, my mouth agape, before my mother slapped me awake. I watched her leave the bathroom, her face burning with shame and anger, my mind a jumble of thoughts. Luckily, no one was around. I don't remember how I stumbled out of the wedding venue, my mind replaying everything I had witnessed. It was clear that my mother's change was completely unexpected and was spiraling out of control. Somehow, I found myself at my front door. Looking at the familiar stairwell, I felt like I was back in my childhood. At this time, when I came home from school, a hot meal would surely be waiting for me at home, and my mother's kind and gentle smile would ask me about my day at school. I took out my key and inserted it into the lock, but found something strange—no matter what I did, I couldn't turn it. At first, I thought the lock or the key was broken, but after a while, I realized what was going on. Knowing the truth, I cried out in anguish and pounded on the old security door with all my might. My mother had changed the lock?! Before attracting too much attention from the neighbors, I silently walked into the street, tears streaming down my face, my fists clenched so tightly they almost bled. If this had happened more than ten years ago, such betrayal would have made me feel incredibly sad and desperate as a child. But as an adult, the relationships between relatives have subtly changed, as if I had lost the right to influence . Now, my mother's side wouldn't have much of a moral high ground in the eyes of the public. And what I felt most at this moment was anger and a wound to my self-esteem. If my mother needed to live on her own, it wouldn't be unreasonable for her to ask me to move out, but I simply couldn't accept this arrangement . For the next two months, I didn't contact her or visit home once. My mother, perhaps because of the humiliation she suffered last time, didn't speak to me. I could only glean information about her recent activities from her social media. My mother never posted about her personal life, only pictures of herself and scenery from her travels. From some recent photos, I learned that she seemed to have gone to Singapore, though I didn't know if she was on a tour or with others. But traveling abroad wasn't something my mother would normally do. A week or two passed like this. One weekend, while deleting spam , I found a file package from an unknown account with the words "Hainanese Chicken Rice" written on it. Out of curiosity, I downloaded it. After scanning for viruses, I found none, so I opened it . To my surprise, I was greeted by a bunch of nude, flesh-colored pictures! I quickly closed the window, thinking, "What rubbish!" After everyone left work, I excused myself to stay , intending to spend a few minutes looking at them before leaving. But upon closer inspection, I immediately recognized my mother's familiar face in the very first picture, along with the lion fountain from the Weibo post . Filled with intense unease, I scrolled through the pictures one by one, and indeed, they were pornographic nude photos ! The initial images showed only two people in the hotel room, one of whom was the very man who had molested my mother at the wedding banquet that day. In the later pictures, my mother maintained a faint smile, regardless of how the somewhat bald man violated her breasts and nipples, how he posed her in various shameful positions, how he exposed her thighs to the camera flash, and how he licked her genitals with his tongue. My mother remained composed and maintained a subtle smile. Soon, the images became more close-up, suggesting the photographer was also involved. Shocked, I quickly scrolled down, and from the increasingly intense expression of pleasure on my mother's face and her ecstatic eye-rolling, I vaguely sensed that the sins I had committed were now coming true. The photographer never showed his face, and the later photos lacked the detailed process of the first half. Most were pictures of the mother with a smirk on the hotel rooftop or by the pool, including one of her nonchalantly pulling out her nipple with a wicked grin, or kneeling with her back to the camera, spreading her buttocks. There were also a few photos that were simply taken after the fact: the mother lying on the bed or balcony, her hair disheveled, her body covered in semen, the photographer zooming in with close-ups. One photo, in particular, was of the mother sitting naked in the bathtub, her face covered in semen, her mouth wide open in a seemingly dissatisfied smile—it was extremely shocking. After looking through the entire folder, it was already past nine o'clock, and the cleaning staff were already coming upstairs to urge me. I hurriedly grabbed a USB drive to copy the photos, and left the company, my face flushed.

The front door.

To my surprise, my first thought upon stepping outside was to find a place to quickly masturbate. I slapped

myself and tried to calmly analyze the situation.

Who sent the photos? If the photographer hadn't shown his face, could it be him? No, no, no, if it were

someone I knew using such a scandalous affair to threaten me, the risk was too great.

Then it must be my mother or that official's political enemy? But

what use to blackmail me? And why send it to me?

Right now, more than being shocked by the facts presented in these photos, I felt a deep

worry . If these things were exposed, the impact would be almost devastating. No matter what, she was still

the family I wanted to protect.

So I started investigating the sender of the email, but I got a result that surprised me:

this person was a complete naiveté.

The personal information he left online because of an email address was so extensive it was almost like he was

running .

With the help of my friend, I finally found out this person's real identity. Upon seeing the photo, I exclaimed, "Holy crap,

isn't that the 'junior' young man lying on my mother's bed that day?"

I was instantly enraged. With an almost murderous tone, I didn't hesitate to call a group of friends, skipped work

, and went to the small town. We searched his usual haunts, finally catching him at a bar

.

We roughly dragged him to a nearby underground parking lot and, without saying a word, started beating him mercilessly.

My group, probably infected by my bloodshot eyes, beat him mercilessly. At first, he looked disdainful, but

later perhaps unable to bear the beating any longer, he relented, shouting, "Stop hitting me! I'm a victim too!"

I laughed in anger, stopping and asking him how he was a victim.

He trembled, his face bruised and swollen, saying he didn't take the photo; he found it accidentally at someone else's place and,

in a fit of anger, sent it to me and other relevant people. However, it seemed the internal network intercepted the

files shortly afterward, preventing its spread.

After hearing this, I felt like a deflated balloon, standing there motionless, thinking, "Damn it, what kind of

mess is this?"

I stood there stunned for two minutes, then grabbed a wooden stick and swung it at him, yelling, "You

fucking have a Casanova?! You think you're being wronged???!!"

My friends, who didn't know the situation, probably thought it was some kind of heartbreak from a love triangle, and seeing

how hard I was hitting him, they all came over to tell me to stop.

I stopped, throwing down a sentence, "Kid, don't think that just because you're high up there and your connections aren't big, you're safe. You're surrounded by powerful people.

If you run into them, you'll be dead faster than I am."

Without caring whether he heard me or not, the group turned and left.

He didn't call the police, but I guess my fuss about finding people was too much, because my mother found out I had hit him

, and two days later she came to my company to find me.

I was slumped on a chair in the corridor, lost in thought, when I heard the rapid clatter of high heels in the distance. I

turned around and saw my mother walking towards me angrily.

The boy was clearly not telling his mother the truth either.

I stood up without surprise, taking the full force of my mother's slap.

Touching my burning cheek, I thought about how my mother had never hit me before. Looking at

this

strange woman in a red office suit and black stockings, her meticulously made-up face, her eyes red and teary, constantly berating me for being immature and unreasonable, expressing her utter disappointment in me, I truly didn't

know how to react. Yet, the voice and tone she spoke were unmistakably my mother's.

I felt wronged and angry, wanting to throw the USB drive in my pocket at her and let her figure out

what had happened. But the thought of a woman humiliating

my mother in front of her child made me feel utterly powerless.

I don't know how much time passed; my mother was long gone. I touched my burning cheek and

silently went back to the office.

My colleagues probably just assumed the stunningly beautiful young woman's anger towards me was a troublesome relationship

problem .

I looked up at the overcast sky outside the window, gritting my teeth. This was real hell, wasn't it?

Not long after, I discovered that although I hadn't been blocked, my mother had

blocked me on social media.

My life seemed to have been completely cut off from hers.

Over twenty years of family affection had unknowingly changed completely. Now, my mother felt

like a bird eager to break free of its cage, or a goldfish unable to tolerate the filth in the pond.

Through other channels, I learned that my mother had recently started working in the county government and, without

asking me, had sold the old house and moved into a new one, the location of which I had no idea. I simply couldn't offer the same blessings

as I would for a modern woman breaking free of her shackles and embarking on a new life . I felt the woman I knew was dying, and my mother's face was becoming increasingly . I could hardly remember what kind of person the mother I knew for over twenty years had been. Compared to the woman now , the mother in my memory seemed more like a false mask reflected by the times. Half a year passed in the blink of an eye. During a meeting between company representatives and local business representatives from my hometown, I encountered my mother again. I was carrying documents and files downstairs in the conference building when I suddenly saw a black Mercedes pull up and stop. As soon as the back door opened, a pair of long, beautiful legs clad in black stockings emerged, drawing in that direction.

Immediately afterward, a beautiful woman in an elegant dark green dress stepped out of the car. Seeing her face, I was utterly astonished

to realize it was my mother.

I quickly and casually slipped into a corner of the crowd, cautiously observing what was happening.

Due to the angle, I couldn't immediately see who the man accompanying her was, but judging from my mother's expression, she was probably waiting for

him.

My mother's appearance had changed noticeably .

Unlike the cheap, worldly sexiness she had at the beginning of her transformation, or the later glamorous mature woman, my mother now resembled a cultured woman,

exuding intelligence and refined elegance.

Her glossy black hair, perfectly applied light makeup, and the understated leather handbag she carried all

highlighted her unique elegance.

My mother's face was indifferent and serious,

completely .

I stared blankly at my mother, wondering why she had come today. Just then, the head of the department came over

, called me over, handed over some documents, and gave me some instructions. After it ended, I looked back, but there was no

sign of my mother.

I stood there, stunned, on the upper floor of the building. While waiting, the heavy door I couldn't enter made me feel, for the first

time a class divide between us.

After the meeting, because of the finishing work, I didn't have a chance to see my mother again. Later, I tried calling

her, but there was no answer.

My heart was as cold as ice water; I felt that my mother's life and mine would never cross again.

Watching my dearest person run away without a care, as if breaking the rules, the loneliness of being

abandoned .

Several months passed. While eating in the company cafeteria, I saw a

news report on my phone about a local political scandal. It was about an official from a neighboring city and his mistress being found naked and dead in their car.

I browsed the reports and comments with interest, lamenting the tragic turn of events and the lack of common sense of those involved.

The news didn't have pictures or names yet. I finished my meal and casually closed the page, not thinking much of it.

That afternoon, I was immediately summoned by the police. Outside in the corridor, the police, looking flustered, recounted

the exact same story as the news from noon. My glazed eyes began to bloodshot, and my vision gradually

blurred.

When I came to my senses, I was already at the morgue with the police. They showed me my mother

's face beneath the white sheet.

My mother's expression was peaceful, more like a deep sleep than suffocation, as if she had finally returned to

the way I used to know her.

When the white sheet was lifted, what was revealed was the almost perfect, pale body I had fabricated.

The fashionable glimpse of black lace underwear below her waist added to the absurdity and ridiculousness of the scene.

A week later, at my mother's funeral, a light drizzle fell from the sky. I was the only one present

. I used the large sum of money from her estate to buy her a fine burial plot near her hometown, surrounded by no

one she knew, thus giving her some peace.

"Young man, do you hate me?" Loki, dressed in his familiar dark green leather jacket, sunglasses, and carrying a

shortened cane, slowly emerged from behind a tree.

Looking at my mother's tombstone, I simply replied, "Why, why should I hate you?"

A hint of surprise flickered in his eyes, and he deliberately lowered his voice, saying to me, "Isn't it because of me that your

lives have been turned upside down, deviating from the norm?"

I moved my umbrella aside, gazing at the gray clouds, letting the raindrops fall on my face.

"You only gave us a choice; it was we who led our lives to ruin," I

looked at Loki and gave a pale smile. "To put it bluntly, people, well, heh heh."

Loki took a deep breath, and after a long while, he said to me with barely suppressed curiosity, "Do you want to

follow me?"

"Huh?" I turned my head and looked at the Celestial who was staring blankly at me with suspicion.

A familiar, eerie smile appeared on his lips.

I pulled myself out of the vortex of memories and found Loki walking out of the black teleportation rift beside me

, yawning incessantly.

He had cut his hair short, still with bright green hair, and deliberately made himself look younger than me.

"Mentor," I greeted him.

"How was it?" he asked as he walked over.

"Not bad, the mental fixation effect is more stable than I expected, but don't keep giving me these weirdos,

" I couldn't help but complain.

He walked over, turned on the screen, looked at the "girl," and muttered, "Hmm, looks like she doesn't have many days left

to live." With a twist of his right hand, the Earth in front of him began to spin rapidly, jumping two weeks into the future.

The "girl" was found dead in her small house.

"Hey! Stop messing around!"

"Hmm, whatever. Forget about this observation report. Hurry up and get ready, come with me to see something interesting

."

"Who is it?" I looked up, a little wary.

"Well, there's a young man who wants to turn his body into rubber, saying he wants to be a pirate, so I

promised after he's adapted to the body for half a month—well, that's now—I'll throw him into Mali."

"..."

"What? What are you daydreaming about? Get ready, this might be a long time in the mortal realm."

"So you're finally planning something big?"

"Any objections?" He raised an eyebrow.

"No." I grinned, a wicked smile on my face, I was overjoyed.

(The End)

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Loki: The Reborn Mother

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