Novels by Crazy Snail

On 7:00 PM, dinner at the Kimura Household, the scent of fried chicken filled the house. The last plate had just been placed on the table, and Takuto Kimura was reaching for a golden nugget of crispy bliss when—Ding dong."I’ll get it!" chirped his little sister, Sakuya, skipping toward the door.Takuto chomped down on his chicken, assuming it was a delivery or maybe a door-to-door salesman. Nothing important.Until—“Excuse me. Is Takuto Kimura home?”Clatter.His chopsticks fell to the floor.That voice... Deep, composed, with just a hint of tension—it could only be one person.Sato, the Board Secretary.No way.He slowly turned his head. At the doorway stood two men in tailored suits. One of them held a very familiar object in his hand:A pink envelope.“We’re from Kimura Trading Corporation,” one of them said with a polite bow. “We’d like to consult with Takuto… on a business matter.

On 3:15 PM, Wednesday, Kimura Trading Corp HQ, Across the Street, While his classmates sweated it out in PE class, Takuto Kimura was holed up inside a convenience store, peering through the foggy window at the towering building across the street.His cartoon-covered baseball cap was pulled low over his eyes, and his little face carried a gravity that did not belong on a ten-year-old.“The third restructuring plan has to be delivered today,” he muttered, checking his kiddie smartwatch. “If not, that ridiculous layoff proposal will pass.”The shopkeeper, a kindly middle-aged woman, watched the small boy talking to himself with growing concern. “Hey, sweetie, you okay? Need help?”“N-no thanks!” Takuto jumped, holding up a juice box. “I'm… just practicing for my speech contest!”POP. The box exploded under pressure, showering him in strawberry juice.Ten minutes later, the store was filled with the sweet scent of fruit as a very stick

On 10:15 AM, Kimura Trading Corp Headquarters, Executive Boardroom, Yamada, Executive Director, pinched the crumpled envelope between her scarlet-painted fingernails like it was something contagious."What is this junk mail now?" she sneered, preparing to toss it into the shredder.Just then, something tumbled out—several crayon drawings and a small pile of coins.“Wait!” Vice President Sato lunged and snatched the envelope. “Are these... kid drawings?”The board members leaned in, forming a tight circle. On the first page, in clumsy, lopsided handwriting, the title read: “Kimura Trading Corporation Revival Plan”—next to a cheerful smiling sun.The second page showed stick figures. One wore glasses (labeled: IT guy) and another in a delivery uniform (labeled: Courier) holding hands.“Merge Logistics with IT?” the CFO chuckled, almost choking on his coffee. “That’s playground logic…”But Sato suddenly sat upright.“Wait a m

On 2:15 AM, afaint, eerie blue glow spilled from the small bedroom of Takuto Kimura, casting long shadows across the carpet and the scattered toys.But this was no ordinary late-night gaming session. The glow came from a computer screen—an advanced model, cobbled together from spare parts he’d bought with carefully saved pocket money. In front of it sat a boy of ten, his frame tiny, his expression anything but childish.Takuto's small fingers flew across the keyboard at a pace that would put seasoned coders to shame. His posture—hunched, calculating, intense—was that of a seasoned executive in a late-night crisis meeting, not a fifth grader sneaking computer time.“First things first…” he muttered, eyes narrowed with adult-level focus. “I need the full picture of the company's status.”He typed quickly: "Kimura Trading Corp bankruptcy."Search results explo

Takuto Kimura, age ten—well, at least physically—sat at the breakfast table, meticulously spreading a layer of blueberry jam over his toast. He did it with such focused precision that one might think he was mapping out an international expansion strategy rather than preparing breakfast.Across from him, his six-year-old sister, Sayuri, was attacking her cereal with the enthusiasm of a mad scientist. She stirred it like she was brewing a potion, sending oats flying onto the table with every exaggerated swirl of her spoon.“Sayuri,” Takuto said, frowning in disapproval. “We must maintain proper table manners while eating.”His tone was firm, authoritative—eerily mature for a child. In fact, it was the same tone he used during board meetings in his

Takuto Kimura, 10 years and 2 months old, had now entered his seventh year since his reincarnation.The torrential rain relentlessly soaked Tokyo to its core in the dead of night, a cascade of water drenching the city’s neon-lit streets. Beneath the awning of a convenience store, a small figure huddled, drenched, inside a children’s raincoat. Takuto Kimura clutched in his hands the crisp banknotes he had just withdrawn from an ATM—his precious New Year’s money, carefully saved up over the past year. This modest sum would serve as his initial capital to purchase a second-hand computer, one that could connect to the internet and help him embark on the path to his ultimate goal."Meow—"The faint cry barely made it through the torrent of rain, almost swallowed up by the sound of the downpour. Takuto turned his head and, to his surprise, noticed a small calico cat huddled beside a vending machine, its green and gold eyes glowing faintl