Capybara Heir Crawls Home to the Rich

I was a capybara who had escaped from an aquarium. Ten minutes ago, I was sound asleep on a coastal rock.

That was until a teenage boy in a white shirt fell off the cliff and landed squarely on my head. At that moment, my head exploded, as if I had been struck by a giant orange.

The young man's name was Drake Kensington. I had seen him before when I worked at the aquarium. However, now, he was covered in blood and on the brink of death.

He weakly clutched my paw and signed a special contract with me. "Help me get revenge. Once you've succeeded, this body is yours."

I deliberated for three solid minutes. Honestly, life at sea had been pretty boring lately, and soaking up the sun on dry land didn't sound half bad.

Besides, when some brat at the aquarium had snatched my orange, Drake had been the one to get it back for me. Hence, I agreed.

Before I could ask who his enemies were, he breathed his last. And just like that, I became Drake.

…

When I opened my eyes again, I was sprawled on the beach, seawater constantly splashing into my nose.

This body was so soft, and its limbs felt like limp noodles. I tried to stand up, but I failed.

As a seasoned capybara, I decided to abandon this profoundly unnatural habit of walking on two legs. Thus, I began to crawl on all fours.

It took me five solid hours to crawl from the beach to the brilliantly lit Kensington residence. I did stop mid-journey to watch the sunset and munch on some ornamental greenery along the curb. The grass was on the older side, though, as it kept getting stuck between my teeth.

I felt like I was getting a little dehydrated, so I waded into a fountain in the manicured lawn to meditate for ten minutes. By the time I finally crawled up to the main gate of the Kensington residence, night had fallen.

The security guard was patrolling with a flashlight. When the beam of light landed on my face—which was soaking wet and covered in mud, sand, and seaweed—he let out the most bloodcurdling scream of his life. "There's a ghost!"

He dropped his flashlight and scrambled toward the house on all fours.

I wasn't angry. I merely wanted to remind him that his running form was far too unsteady and that he could easily trip and fall. So, I continued crawling slowly toward the villa.

The Kensingtons were celebrating the birthday of their adopted son, Matthew Kensington, in the living room of the Kensington residence.

Just then, my mind was flooded with memories. Drake had only been found and brought home three years ago, but none of his family had ever welcomed him. Matthew, in particular, had always bullied him, relying on their parents' favoritism to get away with it.

Even on the anniversary of Drake's disappearance, the Kensingtons had revolved around Matthew. Not a single person had remembered Drake.

I pondered for a few seconds. The human world was indeed far too complicated. Matthew was just as annoying as those brats who used to pull on my ears.

He was dressed in a white bespoke suit, giggling. "Dad, Mom, thank you for taking care of me this past year. It's a shame Drake isn't here today. I'd be even happier if he were."

As soon as his words fell, I pushed open the grand carved doors with the top of my head. Soaked from head to toe, I crawled into the living room, leaving a trail of seawater across the pristine rug.

Matthew's laughter came to an abrupt stop. The champagne glass in his hand dropped to the floor, shattering into countless glittering shards.

"D-Drake?" He pointed at me and yelped. "Are you a human or a ghost?"