1999, April 28th

  William sat in what used to be a guest bedroom on the second floor. He had repurposed it to become his personal office. Inside were three computers, each with two monitors. Of course, he had the typical boss desk usually seen in movies and comics. The room was sparsely decorated, with simple brown wallpaper and a wooden floor. He felt it was dramatic enough and didn't decorate any further, though Eve wanted to tear it all down because it didn't aesthetically match the rest of the mansion. What did she know about interior design anyway? Probably more than him, but he pretended that wasn't the case.

  All the PCs were connected through Ethernet. All of them were in the corner so that they were as space efficient as possible. He sat at the first desk and operated the PC. He opened the client for the VoIP. It was very primitive but still included some of the features he intended to implement in the app, like echo cancellation, packet loss handling, contact lists, and text chat. He was planning to add more features in the official release, like group calling, file transfer, very primitive screensharing, call recording, voicemail, and proper encryption.

  Currently, on his client, there were three contacts. One is for the PC he was on, the other two were for the other two PCs. He clicked on one of them and clicked on call. After a second, a cute ringtone rang on the second PC. He clicked accept and checked the connection. It had a latency of 127ms, which was acceptable for now. He tested the audio. It worked better than the last time he tested it. Then, he checked the echo cancellation. He connected the PC to a speaker and tested it. The result was better than last time as well. He nodded, satisfied.

  He compressed the installation files for the client and copied them to a disk. He planned to give it to Eve later. He looked at the time. It was 3 pm. He got up and walked over to the main desk for more work.

  That night, he dreamt. He was young, again. He looked down at his little hands and clenched them. He heard a sound. A gorgeous woman was looking at him. His body involuntarily smiled, "Mama."

  Her smile widened, "My little William! Dear! He just said his first words."

  Young William heard someone tripping in the other room. "What? For real? What did he say?"

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  She looked proud, "Of course, it's mama."

  Young William finally saw the man's face. He had blue eyes and a sharp jawline, with blonde hair and a shaven mustache. The man looked disappointed, "So I lost the bet."

  "Papa." Young William called out.

  The man visibly looked more excited, "Hell yeah."

  She knocked him on the head, "Don't swear in front of William, dear. You'll teach him bad words."

  He rubbed the back of his head, "But he's only 3. He probably wouldn't even remember."

  "I said, don't do it."

  "Alright, fine."

  William woke up. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling for a while. Were they my parents? He asked himself. They're clearly not this life's parents, but it is almost certain that they're my past life's. Why couldn't I remember them before? He frowned. It was quite a conundrum for him. Could it really be trauma? He didn't want to accept that.

  But there was no other option. He must accept it, for all other answers were even more unlikely. Damn it. Fuck man. What the fuck is happening to me? He thought, exhausted. Slowly uncovering his past seemed to exhaust William than running a company or working for three days straight.

  He looked at the time. It was 6:47 am. Too early for him, but he couldn't go back to sleep, especially not after that dream. He remembered his parents for the first time. His mother looked so proud of him. And his father was so bright and happy, nothing like the miserable bastard who tried to kill him in this life. Now that he remembered them, he couldn't get them out of his head.

  What is the connection between them and the girl? His head was hurting. Is she my sister? No, she was around the same age as me, which means she couldn't be my sister without being my twin, and she looked nothing like me. That means she must be a stranger whom I took care of or who took care of me. She must be someone I know on a personal level, since she called me Will. I clearly considered her my sister, given how I was teaching her martial arts in my dream with care.

  He scratched his head. This was truly scratching his brain. It felt like solving a puzzle, without any hints or clues, and with no right solutions. But he knew he would find the answer, sooner or later. He swung out of bed and went to the bathroom. As always, he washed his face and stared into the mirror for a second, looking at himself. I can never get used to my eyes. He thought to himself. Why am I given so many advantages in this life? First, I hit my head and developed chromesthesia. Second, Pennyworth was also reincarnated with me. Third, I gained a system. Fourth, I was reincarnated in 1980, the prime time to develop technologies fast. Why?

  He shook his head. Those didn't matter. He'll take what he can get. He grinned. No matter what, I'll thrive. That's a promise to myself.