Reincarnated as a Fisherman and a Dad

[Pujimaki]

After being reincarnated in a parallel world eerily similar to Earth, Karlos Alejandro starts a new life as a humble fisherman. In just two years, he finds love, marries, and becomes a father to two children.

With a deep sense of responsibility and love for his family, Karlos braves the sea each day, working tirelessly to provide and protect. In this second life, survival, simplicity, and family take center stage.

 

[Pujimaki]

Reincarnated as a Fisherman and a Dad Chapter 1

A truck cruised down the road at a steady speed, its tires rolling steadily over the concrete. The driver, focused and alert, kept his eyes on the road while a K-pop song played on the radio.

As a truck driver, he knew that defensive driving was the key to getting home safely every day. He valued his life and the lives of others. He wasn't reckless. He respected traffic laws, checked his mirrors, and always stayed in his lane.

He also knew there were assholes out there. People who treated traffic signs like suggestions and drove like they had a death wish.

He was a changed man now.

Unfortunately for him, his truck was currently possessed by the spirit of Truck-kun, the infamous isekai maker. And Truck-kun was waiting patiently for the perfect moment to complete his mission.

"The driver's in a pinch. He just doesn't know it yet," Truck-kun muttered internally.

He'd been sent by the gods and goddesses to fulfill a mission, something about balancing the laws of the universe or whatever.

The target this time: an office woman who needed to be reincarnated to another world.

She was a depressed office worker with hollow dreams and just enough energy to survive each monotonous day. No love life, not even a casual fling. Her free time was consumed by romance novels, manhwa, and visual novels.

Truck-kun's job was to send her to a fantasy world, where she would become the villainess in the very novel she had just finished reading yesterday.

"For some reason, this is the meta lately. A strange trend among the gods. They keep sending these women into romance novels they've read, what's it called again? Otome Isekai?"

Truck-kun liked to talk to himself. He didn't get many opportunities to chat with other otherworldly entities, so monologuing had become second nature. He talked like a schizophrenic philosopher, and at this point, it felt normal.

Such was the lonely life of an entity tasked with possessing vehicles to carry out divine missions.

He was the Isekai Maker. The Grim Reaper on wheels.

"Where was I again? Right, Otome Isekai. So the genre goes like this: some girl gets reincarnated into a fantasy world, usually based in some kind of pseudo-European society, and ends up in the body of a noble villainess. Since she's read the story before, she tries to change the plot, rewriting her own fate like a rogue author."

"Sometimes she reincarnated a princess or a noble, but the concept is the same. Look, I don't write the damn things. I just hit people with trucks. I don't make the rules, I just follow them."

The villainess usually ends up entangled in a love story with a cold-hearted Duke, a tyrant Emperor, or some other traumatized man-child with six-pack abs, a tragic past, and a ridiculously huge "stick". Same trope, different hair color, but mostly men of red flags.

The gods, it seemed, had developed a taste for magical romance with a side of trauma.

This time, Truck-kun's target would be transmigrated into the body of a villainess known for causing scenes at royal banquets. The spoiled daughter of a rich Count who never loved her right.

"The plot's so damn predictable, I could guess what happens next with my headlights turned off."

While the driver remained calm and focused, Truck-kun was lying in wait, ready to seize control of the vehicle.

Once the truck made a left turn, it would all begin.

And there it was, the turn.

"Now!"

The truck suddenly went off course, speeding onto the sidewalk like a homing missile.

A woman with tired eyes stood there, holding a cup of coffee. She wasn't doing anything extraordinary. Just trying her best to keep going, even though life had lost all its color.

Her love life? Nonexistent. Her job? Soul-crushing. Her boss dumped impossible tasks on her without thanks or bonuses.

All she wanted was to stay in bed, reading novels and manhwa to escape her bleak reality. Fiction was the only place that made her feel anything at all.

"Miss! Run!"

A young man in his early twenties saw the truck barreling toward her. Acting on instinct, he sprinted forward and shoved her with everything he had.

But it was too late.

Though his push moved her slightly, she still got struck by the truck.

And the young man, brave, foolish, and selfless, was caught in the full impact.

Both died instantly, as horrified bystanders screamed and ran toward the scene.

"Shit! Shit! Fuck!"

Truck-kun was livid. His mission had been to hit one person, not two. But thanks to the wannabe hero, the situation had spiraled out of control.

To ensure success, he'd swerved wider than intended, catching both of them.

"Why the hell did you do that!? Now you're dead too, idiot!"

His spirit slowly faded from the mangled truck as the sound of approaching sirens filled the air. The truck driver, stunned and pale, sat frozen behind the wheel.

Truck-kun didn't feel sorry for him. The driver had a dark past, despite his law-abiding behavior. Only the gods knew how many people he'd truly harmed. Maybe this time, he'd finally face justice.

Truck-kun looked at the young man's broken body and sighed.

"Poor kid. You had a whole life ahead of you. Love, chances… maybe even a redemption arc."

He knew the guy didn't deserve to die. He was just trying to help, pure-hearted, brave, and tragically in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But Truck-kun never failed his missions, no matter how messy they turned out.

As the crowd dialed emergency services in a futile attempt to save them, Truck-kun vanished.

This wasn't his first rodeo and it wouldn't be his last. Good Samaritans tried to interfere sometimes, but he couldn't let that stop him. The plan was sacred, and collateral damage, while unfortunate, was part of the job.

"If the gods take pity on you, maybe you'll get another chance. Maybe you'll be reborn. But hey, I just crash trucks to people."

With that, Truck-kun was gone. He already had his next assignment: to possess a train and send a rule-following Japanese salaryman to another world as a young female soldier, because he'd pissed off a god.

 

[Pujimaki]

Reincarnated as a Fisherman and a Dad Chapter 2


A man in his early twenties was scraping barnacles off the hull of a raised yacht under the scorching sun. With a metallic scraper attached to a long pole in his hands, he worked diligently to remove the stubborn, toxic barnacles that clung to the bottom of the vessel like parasites.

The barnacles gave off a foul odor. A nauseating mix of diesel, decay, salt, and sun-baked rot.

Karlos wiped the sweat from his brow using his shoulder, grunting from exhaustion. His arms were smeared with bits of barnacle shells and tangled seaweed that clung to his skin like glue.

The stench clung to him, too, foul and pungent enough to make even a stray dog back away. He knew he'd need a proper shower later, no matter how tired he felt.

"Looks like you're done. Here's some cold water and bread before you go."

"Thanks," Karlos replied.

A Western man approached and handed him a liter of chilled water with ice cubes bobbing near the surface, along with a freshly baked loaf of warm bread. Karlos offered a tired smile and wiped his arms with an old rag before taking his first bite.

It had been two years since Karlos was reincarnated into this world. He had died while trying to save a woman from an oncoming truck, never knowing it had been the legendary Truck-kun. His good deed had ended in tragedy.

After his death, he'd met the deities responsible for the reincarnation process. Their expressions flickered between guilt and indifference as they explained that Karlos had not been the intended target. He was just a background character swept into someone else's story. As a form of compensation, they offered him a second life in a different world.

Now, Karlos lived in a parallel universe that resembled Earth but was also vastly different.

This world was called Thera. A planet with its own history and culture, much of which fascinated and confused him every day.

"Here's your pay," the Western man said.

"Thank you, Mr. Smith," Karlos replied.

The man, whose pale skin was sunburned around the neck, handed him 150 pesos. It was 50 more than they had agreed upon. Karlos raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"You cleaned the yacht quickly. I'm impressed. Also, take the rest of the bread. You mentioned you have kids, right?"

"Yes."

Karlos smiled, deeply grateful. His twins were starting to eat soft solids, though they still struggled with harder textures. Soft bread soaked in milk or water was perfect for them.

He packed the bread into his worn-out backpack, its faded fabric patched and zippers barely holding on. With a respectful nod, he said goodbye.

The smell of sun-baked barnacles and diesel clung to him, but Karlos didn't care. He had earned money today and that was what mattered.

He stood on the pier where hundreds of luxurious yachts bobbed gently in the tide like floating palaces. Thanks to his fluency in English from his past life, Karlos could easily communicate with the many foreign retirees who lived aboard these yachts. His accent was stiff, but it didn't matter.

This pier was filled with foreigners living out their dream retirements, sun, sea, and slow days. Compared to the locals, who struggled to make ends meet, their lives seemed far better.

Luckily for Karlos, the languages of Earth and Thera were nearly identical. He used that to his advantage, offering his services to foreign yacht owners such as cleaning, minor repairs, and odd jobs. The work wasn't glamorous, but the pay was decent.

At a nearby gas station, he took a quick shower to rid himself of the grime and salt sticking to his skin. Thankfully, these public restrooms near the pier were accessible to workers and even used occasionally by yacht owners when their desalinators broke or fresh water ran out.

Karlos sealed his dirty clothes in a plastic bag before tucking it into his backpack, careful not to let them mix with the clean ones. He changed into a fresh set, then gave himself a hopeful sniff.

The strong odor was mostly gone, though a faint trace of diesel still lingered. He'd probably need another rinse once he got home to feel truly clean.

He waited by the roadside for a bus, watching traffic crawl by under the heavy sun. After about ten minutes, a rusted bus screeched to a halt in front of him. Karlos boarded, and a few women glanced his way before looking away just as quickly.

He found a seat and stared out the window, letting his mind wander. Sometimes, he still felt like he was back on Earth just set in a different era. The scenery outside was similar, even if the names and places were different.

The ocean stretched to the far right, glistening under the sunlight, while the land to the left was a patchwork of green and brown, rolling gently like a painted landscape.

Soon, the bus arrived in the town where Karlos now lived. From there, he still had to walk for half an hour to reach his home at the town's edge.

The streetlights flickered on as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in warm hues of red and orange.

"Babe, I'm home."

Karlos stepped inside their bamboo house, his voice soft and warm. The faint hum of a radio filled the room, crackling with static and music. He removed his shoes and walked barefoot out of habit and respect for the floor.

Each step on the aged bamboo creaked like old bones. Some slats were soft with rot and needed replacing. One of these days, he would cut fresh bamboo by the river and repair the floor.

Their home, a traditional kubo, stood about one to two feet above the ground. Elevated to keep the bamboo dry, especially during rainy seasons. It was humble but warm, made from bamboo and nipa palm, typical near the shore.

"Hm. You're back."

Karlos saw his wife, Maya, nursing Arabella in the dim golden glow of sunset coming through the window. The baby girl's eyes were closed, but her mouth latched onto her mother's breast like it was her life's purpose.

Maya rocked her gently, smiling as she looked at her husband.

Karlos returned the smile and kissed her forehead, a quiet joy swelling in his chest. He leaned down and kissed baby Arabella with equal gentleness.

The little girl frowned slightly in her sleep but continued feeding without pause.

Next, Karlos approached the crib where their son was sleeping soundly, curled up like a kitten. He carefully picked the baby up and kissed his forehead.

"You're adorable," he whispered.

Two years had passed since he'd been given this second life, and finally he wasn't alone. He'd found his home, his purpose, his family.

"I brought fresh bread for them."

"They've had such big appetites lately, like tiny bottomless pits. Even formula isn't enough to keep them full," Maya said with a chuckle.

She gently placed Arabella beside her brother, tucking both into worn but clean blankets.

"I'll start on dinner. Watch the kids for a while," she added, stepping outside. Their kitchen was beneath a makeshift roof made of tarpaulin.

Karlos sat beside the crib, watching his twins sleep peacefully, side by side like mirrored souls. He smiled from the bottom of his heart.

Even on the hardest days, they gave him a reason to keep going.

+++++

Illustration of Kubo

 

[krahe]

It's so peaceful. Don't trust it at all

 

[Pujimaki]

Reincarnated as a Fisherman and a Dad Chapter 3

Maya took two careful steps down from the short ladder, since their kubo was elevated about two feet off the ground to protect it from moisture. She glanced at Karlos, who was staring at their twins with adoration written all over his tired but content face.

She gave him a soft smile, her eyes filled with warmth, before heading to their open-air kitchen and sink beneath a makeshift roof made from salvaged, stitched-together tarpaulin.

Their kubo was mostly made of wood, so starting a fire inside was too dangerous, something they'd never risk. Maya tucked her light red hair behind her ear as a gentle breeze carried the salty scent of the nearby sea.

Unlike on Earth, the people in Thera naturally had different hair and eye colors, like something straight out of an anime.

Maya had light red hair, deep crimson eyes, and sun-kissed bronze skin. People who lived near the sea usually had tanned skin, though the shade varied depending on exposure.

She opened the cooking pot and confirmed that the dish was done. A rich aroma filled the air. She also checked the rice pot to ensure nothing was burning at the bottom. When she lifted the lid, a cloud of steam escaped, briefly fogging her vision. The rice looked perfect, fluffy and fragrant.

"Let me help you carry them," Karlos said as he stepped outside the kubo.

He took the rice pot from Maya, using two pieces of worn cardboard to shield his hands from the heat. These makeshift pot holders had been in their home for almost a year, flattened, bent, but still dependable. They'd used them since they first started living together.

Karlos then carried the pot of mussel soup into the house, stepping carefully to avoid spilling, while Maya watched with amusement at how seriously he took the task. She grabbed two ceramic plates, a bowl, and a couple of spoons and forks from the shelf.

Their dinner was mussel soup, Nilagang Tahong, a staple in their household. Maya added ginger and lemongrass to cut through the fishiness and give it a refreshing kick.

Since their town was near the shore, and the local fish port handled tons of seafood daily, it wasn't surprising that seafood made up most of their meals. It was cheap, nutritious, and fresh.

The mussels Maya used only cost 35 pesos per kilo at the market, a small price for a dish so flavorful.

"Did you find another job at the pier?" Maya asked as she sat cross-legged on the bamboo floor, her tone relaxed.

Both of them preferred eating on the floor. They had only one table, and it was too large and heavy to bring inside without damaging the floor. It stayed outside, near the kitchen.

Dinner conversations were a cherished routine. Talking about their day made the simple meal feel more wholesome and comforting.

"Today was the last day. No one needs help with odd jobs anymore," Karlos said with a shrug as he scooped more soup.

"Then I guess you'll be carrying baskets at the fish port tomorrow."

"Hm," he nodded while chewing thoughtfully. The mussels tasted clean and savory, perfectly balanced by the ginger and salt.

To Karlos, it didn't matter what job he did as long as it was honest work. As long as he could provide for his family, he would take anything, no complaints, no hesitation.

"Tomorrow I'll ask Mr. Kanor if the parts I ordered have arrived."

Karlos had been saving money to buy parts for his broken engine. He had a small fishing boat, about four meters long, ideal for one or two people to fish near the shore during calm weather.

The boat was over thirty years old, and the engine parts were hard to find due to its outdated model. He had asked Mr. Kanor, the manager of a boat shop in town known for helping local fishermen, to search for them.

Thankfully, Mr. Kanor found the parts, but due to shipping delays, it would take about two weeks for them to arrive. During those weeks, Karlos worked any odd job he could find such as carrying fish baskets, scrubbing barnacles, anything to keep food on the table.

Tomorrow was the day the parts were scheduled to arrive and Karlos could finally start repairing his boat.

After dinner, the couple sat back and listened to the radio, sometimes chatting quietly about their day.

Karlos was originally from the year 2025, before he was transmigrated into this world. In this new life, he had landed in the year 1998, a time when technology was developing to improve lives, but hadn't yet become overwhelming.

Thera's 1998 felt similar to Earth's, particularly in its development and economy.

In fact, owning a radio in a rural area was already considered a luxury. Their family had one, though it was old and filled with static. Still, it was their nightly entertainment.

When night came, the couple had no reason to stay up. Crickets chirped outside as the breeze cooled the air. Maya checked on the twins, who were sleeping peacefully, satisfied with their milk and a bit of soft bread.

Karlos laid out their bedding on the bamboo floor with practiced care. He set up two mosquito nets, one for the twins and another for him and Maya.

They turned off the lights and the radio. Darkness filled the room, except for the faint silver glow of moonlight seeping through the window.

Maya lay down, but Karlos remained a few inches away, eyes open and staring at the ceiling.

She raised an eyebrow and turned toward him. "What are you doing?"

"Hm? About what?" Karlos blinked, feigning innocence.

"Why aren't you next to me?"

"I smell like diesel," he sighed.

"So what? I want you to sleep next to me," she said firmly, a slight pout forming on her lips.

"…Alright."

He scooted closer, inch by inch, until their bodies touched and their warmth blended. Maya giggled softly, clearly satisfied as Karlos wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.

"Much better."

They didn't fall asleep immediately. The silence of the night wrapped around them in peace and comfort.

To anyone else, Karlos and Maya looked like a normal couple, but under the sheets, they were anything but ordinary. Why do you think they ended up with twins?

But just as they were about to doze off, the twins began crying.

Arabella cried first, quickly followed by Iñigo, forming a perfectly timed duet of wails that shattered the quiet.

Karlos sat up and checked on them.

"Looks like they soiled their diapers. I'll take care of them. You go back to sleep."

Maya yawned and returned to her slumber without protest.

Karlos methodically removed the dirty diapers. The smell hit him like a slap in the face, potent and powerful, now that the twins were eating solids. No matter how many times he did this, it never got easier.

After changing both diapers, he gently hummed lullabies and patted the babies with a steady rhythm. When they finally fell back asleep, he returned to bed, trying not to wake Maya.

But as he lay beside her, she frowned with her eyes still closed and mumbled:

"Stay away from me, you smell."

"…" Karlos let out a long, defeated sigh in the dark.

+++++

[Author's Note: For now, this novel will be updated one chapter per day.]

Maya Alejandro Illustration.

 

[Pujimaki]

Reincarnated as a Fisherman and a Dad Chapter 4

Karlos grunted as he pushed a cart loaded with baskets of fish, weighing around 200 kilograms. It was full-body labor that left his arms and back aching. He wasn't doing it alone. His friend, whom he had met two years ago, was helping him.

Karlos and Andres slowly hauled the cart to the back of a truck. Sweat soaked their bodies from head to toe as they finally stopped to catch their breath.

"Good job, guys."

Joseph patted their backs firmly and nodded in approval before opening the truck to make space for the delivery.

Both Joseph and Andres had red hair, a shared trait that ran in their family. To make things easier to explain, Joseph and Maya were siblings, and Andres was their cousin.

Their family had strong red hair genes, though Andres' shade was lighter than Maya and Joseph's.

"You load the baskets at the door. I'll place them inside," Andres said, stretching his back.

Karlos nodded and began stacking the baskets at the truck's door with practiced efficiency, while Andres carried them into the inner compartment, where iceboxes were already in place.

As for Joseph, he simply stood there with arms crossed, watching them work. He was the truck's owner and had hired the two to load the fish he had purchased. Simple transaction, work done, payment made.

Joseph and Maya's family wasn't rich, but they weren't poor either. They were stable, comfortable, though not extravagant. Their parents had died five years ago when Maya was still just seventeen. After that, the siblings inherited a few properties.

Joseph got the truck and the family house, while Maya received a piece of land, where she and Karlos currently lived, and two commercial spaces in town. One was being rented out while the other was too damaged to use, its roof torn off like paper during a typhoon years ago.

Karlos planned to repair that shop once he had saved enough money, turning it into a steady source of income.

Speaking of savings, Karlos had managed to earn quite a bit since he transmigrated to this world. Thanks to his persistence and willingness to take any honest job, he had made decent progress. But almost all of his earnings had been spent on the twins: diapers, formula, food, clothes, and hospital bills. He hadn't expected to get two kids at once, which had doubled both his joy and his expenses.

For now, he worked as a porter at the fish port to keep their family afloat.

Once the job was done, Joseph inspected the truck, checking the baskets, the ice, and the covers. He gave a satisfied nod after confirming everything was properly secured for transport.

"Here's your pay."

He handed them 100 pesos each, slightly crumpled bills. It wasn't much, 100 pesos was equivalent of about two U.S. dollars, but it was enough to buy some rice or a bit of seafood. They had worked almost three hours in the scorching midday sun for that money.

"Thanks, Joseph."

"Yeah, thanks, cousin. You even gave us an extra 20 pesos."

"No need to thank me," Joseph replied with a dismissive wave, then turned to Karlos.

"You've been in this town for two years now, right?"

"Yeah. My parents dropped me here in the province back in 1998," Karlos answered casually.

The original Karlos had been sent to the neighboring town by his parents, who forced him to stop college. That decision sent him into a spiral of depression, leading him to make reckless choices, and that was when Earth Karlos was transmigrated into his body.

Coincidentally, both Thera Karlos and Earth Karlos had the same name.

Karlos Alejandro, a surname that sounded noble but was actually common in the country. Even their physical appearances were nearly identical, except for eye color.

Thera Karlos had black hair, blue eyes, and white skin, eerily similar to his Earth counterpart.

"You married my sister... So I'm allowed to ask you some things. What are your plans from here on out? You've got kids now. You can't act like you're still single."

Joseph stared at Karlos seriously, his expression a mix of concern and protectiveness. Truth be told, he didn't support Karlos and Maya's relationship in the beginning. From his perspective, aside from being good-looking and somewhat charming, Karlos had little to offer.

In his opinion, Maya should've ended things before the relationship began and focused on her dreams. But she chose to start a family with Karlos without anyone's approval and Joseph had no choice but to respect that decision, even if he had his doubts.

Still, he gave them an old fishing boat he no longer used, ever since he started delivering fish inland, where the money was better and less dangerous.

"For now, I'll go to Mr. Kanor's shop and ask about the motor parts. Once I get them, I'll fix the boat and start earning better. One step at a time," Karlos replied calmly, wiping sweat from his forehead.

"Alright. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me."

Joseph gave a final nod and climbed into the truck. He had to deliver the fish to inland markets where they'd sell at nearly double the price, mostly to wholesalers, restaurants, and wet market vendors.

The job was profitable but tiring. Traffic, unpredictable weather, and long hours on the road made it exhausting. Sometimes, he had to sleep in his truck, especially when it broke down in the middle of nowhere with no help in sight.

He wasn't rich, but he was surviving, stable enough to keep moving.

The truck rumbled away, kicking up dust as it disappeared down the road, leaving Karlos and Andres sweating under the afternoon sun.

"Are you going to look for another hauling job? It's only 2 p.m.," Andres asked, stretching his arms and back.

"I'll head home first. Maya said she made lunch and asked me to come around noon."

"…You're lucky. My wife doesn't even care if I starve to death. Well, I'll go hunt for more work," Andres said with a shrug.

"Yeah. See you."

Karlos wiped his face with his already drenched shirt, which clung tightly to his skin. The fish port in town was alive from sunrise to sundown. Many fishing boats docked here daily to unload their catch, helping the town's economy thrive thanks to its booming seafood trade.

Every other hour, trucks arrived from distant towns to buy fish, negotiating prices with sellers before hauling the catch into baskets or large styrofoam boxes.

But since trucks couldn't access the narrow docks or navigate the constantly wet floors, porters like Karlos were hired to carry the goods to a parking lot several hundred meters away.

It wasn't easy work, but Karlos made the most of it while his boat remained out of commission.

After walking past barking dogs and busy vendors, Karlos finally arrived home and found Maya folding clothes on the bamboo floor.

"Ga! Ga!"

"Gu! Gu! Gu!"

The twins babbled from their crib, crawling around with noisy excitement. When they spotted their father, their voices grew even louder, like a cheerful welcome.

"You're back. Go change your clothes, you're drenched. I'll get lunch ready," Maya said without looking up.

Karlos groaned in relief as he sat down, smiling at the twins who were stretching their tiny arms through the crib bars. The space between the bars was wide enough for the babies to stick their hands out and wave, trying to grab the air.

"You guys are so cute~~"

Karlos said in a playful baby voice while tickling their fingers. The twins giggled with toothless grins and bubbly laughter, lighting up the whole house with joy.

 

[ChickenZero]

Bahay-kubo, kahit munti
Ang halaman doon ay sari-sari
Singkamas at talong
Sigarilyas at mani
Sitaw, bataw, patani
Kundol, patola, upo't kalabasa
At tsaka mayro'n pang
Labanos, mustasa
Sibuyas, kamatis, bawang at luya
Sa paligid-ligid ay puno ng linga

 

[Pujimaki]

Reincarnated as a Fisherman and a Dad Chapter 5

When Maya returned with the food, Karlos was already playing with the two adorable bundles of joy who had taken over his heart. He carried them in his arms like a natural father who had done it a thousand times before.

Maya smiled warmly and placed the dish on the bamboo floor with a soft clack that echoed faintly across their humble Kubo.

"You eat. I'll take care of them. They've been hyperactive since morning, and it's not even their nap time yet."

Karlos handed baby boy Iñigo to Maya. Then he placed baby girl Arabella in the crib, but she clung to his shirt and refused to let go.

"Ga gaga!"

He looked at Arabella and chuckled softly. Her teary eyes made it clear she would burst into tears if he let go, even for just a second.

"Okay, fine. You'll stay with me while I eat. But remember, no grabbing the spoon again, you shouldn't move around."

He spoke to her, though Arabella was too young to understand his words. She responded only to his tone, giggling and tugging at his shirt like it was a game.

In the end, he held the baby in his left arm while eating with his right hand, slightly clumsy, but ate nonetheless.

Arabella followed the spoon's movement with curious eyes and let out a high-pitched gurgle, "Ga ga ga!" that made Maya turn around and laugh.

"I think she's hungry," Karlos said, prompting Maya to laugh even harder.

"I just fed them earlier before you arrived. They were so eager you'd think I starved them all morning. The twins ate a whole mashed banana. I don't dare feed them too much," she explained.

Karlos nodded and continued eating, occasionally making silly faces to amuse Arabella. This was their first time being parents, and they approached every little task with care and intention.

"Are you going back to the fish port?"

"I'll visit Mr. Kanor first before he closes the shop. I don't want to miss another day waiting. If the motor parts still haven't arrived, I'll go back to the fish port. But if they're here, I'll come home. After that, I might fish a little at the beach."

"Okay," Maya nodded, gently cradling Iñigo. She stroked his cheek while cuddling him as he slept peacefully in her arms.

Just like his brother, Arabella also fell asleep on Karlos' arm, her tiny fists curled up. She seemed perfectly content resting against his broad arm, his steady heartbeat soothing her like a lullaby.

They carefully placed the twins back into their crib, moving slowly so they wouldn't wake. Karlos took the opportunity to nap after the exhausting work earlier. He laid down directly on the bamboo floor with no bedding. Even a few minutes of rest were precious. The floor had small cracks that let in cool air, making his rest surprisingly comfortable despite its simplicity.

Over forty minutes later, Karlos woke up and stretched, letting out a yawn that even surprised him. He saw Maya at the sink, sleeves rolled up as she washed plates, humming softly.

"I brought 130 pesos today." He tried to hand her the money, but she shook her head without turning around.

"You keep it. You still have to pay the remaining balance to Mr. Kanor. If your money falls short, get 100 pesos from the cabinet in the small room."

"It's alright. I think 130 pesos should be enough, unless he suddenly added hidden fees. We already paid him 500 pesos last time."

"Still, we have to be sure. The parts you need are hard to find, especially for those old motor models. And you should give Mr. Kanor a tip as a bonus."

"Nah, he'll probably just add that to the final price anyway. No need to tip him."

Karlos waved his hand dismissively.

He kissed Maya's forehead with a soft peck and stepped away.

"See you later."

"Hm."

She nodded shyly with a slight blush, as if they were still new lovers. She admitted to herself that this life wasn't bad at all. Each day might be simple and repetitive, but she felt deeply satisfied. Her two adorable children and handsome husband made her life better in ways she never imagined.

Karlos didn't return to the fish port. Instead, he walked in the direction of Mr. Kanor's shop with determined steps.

Their town had developed significantly ever since the fish port became active almost every hour from early morning to the dead of night. Even at midnight, fishing vessels arrived unannounced, keeping the town alive and bustling with business.

As a result, the town prospered. More shops and stalls opened every few months, and there were even plans for expansion.

Karlos thought about the abandoned shop they owned just outside the fish port and how he could turn it into something useful. It was a great location for business, the foot traffic alone guaranteed customers.

Some people had already offered to buy the property, but Maya refused to sell it, no matter the price. It was inherited from her parents, and she held on to it for sentimental reasons. Of course, Karlos respected her decision.

Still, deep down, he felt insecure. He had brought nothing into the marriage. The original Karlos had also been abandoned, sent to the province by his parents to live with relatives.

Those relatives kicked him out after taking all his money and any chance at a stable life.

With no other options, the original Karlos wandered to the edge of the region and eventually ended up in this town. He decided to jump into the sea, hoping it would swallow his pain. That was when Karlos from Earth transmigrated into his body, carrying with him not just his memories, but also the emotional weight of another man's broken life.

'Just like the original Karlos, I also have nothing. In fact, the original had it better because he knew who his parents were, while my parents left me in an orphanage and never looked back.'

Both Karloses were resourceful and found ways to survive. Maybe their appearance helped, black hair and a charming face could attract the attention of beautiful women.

'Too bad Thera's Karlos was hated by his parents from the start. They never gave him love, not even a sliver. He had to survive on his own from the beginning.'

Honestly, Karlos couldn't blame the original for ending his life after all that neglect and cruelty. His pain was real.

He was already in his third year of college when his parents showed up at his school, made a scene, and forced him to drop out. They sent him to the province to live on his own and never contacted him again.

He had been working part-time to pay for his tuition, sacrificing everything to stay in school. But his parents ignored all that. They claimed he wasn't helping with chores, when in fact, he was the one who cleaned the house, cooked meals, and took care of his two siblings, all while working and studying.

Karlos sighed deeply at the memory. Neither he nor the original owner had it any better.

Fortunately, he met Maya and found a home in this world, a home he built with his own hands and heart. Now he had a place to return to whenever he felt like the world was too heavy, too punishing.

After walking and reminiscing about the past, he finally arrived at Mr. Kanor's boat shop.

"Karlos, looks like you're here for the motor parts. I have some good news for you. Your package still hasn't arrived, so you can keep worrying for another day."

"…"

 

[ChickenZero]

Dude! That Mang Kanor is one grade A asshole.