No Way ! Mafia Again ?!

The sky was overcast, with gray clouds hanging low, as if adding a somber weight to this sorrowful day. A fine mist of rain fell gently, blurring the distant outlines of the mountains and settling upon the newly laid grass. The funeral procession stood quietly around the grave, each face etched with grief. Black umbrellas bloomed like a sea of darkness beneath the drizzling rain. The coffin was slowly lowered into the earth, and those dressed in somber black bowed their heads in silent prayer.

The officiant's voice was soft and mournful, resonating in the stillness of the cemetery as he spoke of Noah Leslie's brief but illustrious life. His name had once been a legend in the business world, a self-made man who built a vast empire from the ground up. Yet today, the man who had once stood invincible now lay quietly in the coffin, a mere part of the past.

Noah’s spirit stood silently to the side, watching it all unfold. He saw his wife, Kate Leslie, overcome with grief, her eyes swollen and red, her face marked by tear-streaks that had yet to be wiped away. Dressed in a long black gown, Kate struggled to maintain her composure, but the raw sorrow in her expression betrayed the depths of her heartache.

Their eldest son, Rex Leslie, stood solemnly beside her. Tall and broad-shouldered, he bore a striking resemblance to his father, both in appearance and demeanor, though his eyes flickered with a complex mix of emotions. Rex had always been his father's pride, the chosen successor, groomed for success from a young age. Yet here he was, standing at the end of his father's life, bidding him a final farewell.

Max Leslie, the second son, held his mother’s hand tightly, offering what little comfort he could. Unlike Rex, Max wore no solemnity on his face. His demeanor was more detached, his gaze wandering as though his mind was elsewhere. Max’s rebellious youth had once been a source of endless frustration for Noah, but now, in this moment, he seemed adrift, struggling to find his place in a world that had abruptly shifted.

At the very back stood the youngest, Kix Leslie. His eyes flickered with a blend of emotions that were hard to decipher. The baby of the family, Kix had been showered with affection and attention, but with that came heightened expectations and pressure. As he gazed at his father’s body, a storm of unspeakable feelings surged within him, and he found himself lost in the weight of this moment.

Suddenly, a faint light flickered beside Noah, slowly coalescing into a vague figure. It was a man dressed in ancient attire, his expression solemn, his eyes deep and inscrutable. His presence seemed utterly out of place in the sorrowful atmosphere, as though he carried with him a mysterious, almost otherworldly power.

Noah, taken aback by the sudden appearance of this figure, couldn’t help but ask, "Who are you? Why are you here?"

The man smiled slightly, his voice low and resonant as he spoke, "Mr. Leslie, I am a messenger from the afterlife, sent here to offer you a chance."

"A messenger from the afterlife?" Noah furrowed his brow, confusion and suspicion rising within him. "What chance are you talking about?"

The messenger from the afterlife nodded, his gaze steady as he continued to explain, "Every life is shaped by countless choices and coincidences. When life comes to an end, some are granted the opportunity to be reborn, to fulfill unaccomplished desires or to experience a different path. And you, Mr. Leslie, are fortunate enough to be one of them."

Noah, still struggling to comprehend the situation, asked, "Why me?"

"Because, though your life was remarkable, it was also filled with regrets and contradictions," the messenger replied calmly. "You have the chance to be reborn, to return to the world of the living. But your new life will be determined by your family. Their hopes and desires for you will shape the way you live."

Though still somewhat bewildered by the situation, Noah managed a confident smile. "My family would certainly want me to live well. They love and respect me, and I believe they would wish for me to lead a happy life after my rebirth."

The messenger from the afterlife smiled gently, then took a pocket watch from within his coat. He gave it a light shake, and images began to appear on its face—images of Noah's family and their true, unspoken thoughts.

Kate stood by the coffin, her tears flowing uncontrollably. Her lips trembled, and she said "Noah, you were a great husband and a successful businessman, the pillar that held our family together." Her voice shook, as if each word was laced with unbearable pain.

Yet, deep within her, there was a secret voice—one she had never dared to speak aloud. "I wish you were more focused on love, that you would dedicate more time to the relationship. Those cold, distant contracts and meetings… they took you away from me too often. I wish that, in your next life, you would spend 16 hours a day with your true love—just being together, even if in silence."

Noah’s mind raced in confusion. “What? Sixteen hours a day devoted to love?” That meant almost every waking hour, except for sleep, would be spent in the company of his partner. What on earth was Kate thinking?

Nearby, Rex stood with an expression of gratitude, his voice steady and full of respect as he spoke. "Thank you, Father, for giving me this company and the opportunity to carry on your legacy." His words were filled with reverence.

However, beneath that composed exterior, another voice echoed in his heart. “The truth is, I never wanted to run this business. I always dreamed of becoming a doctor, of helping patients and healing diseases. Father, you scolded me for not wanting to follow in your footsteps, for wanting to do something humbler. You said, as the eldest son, I had to take over the family business, not waste my life in a job where I’d only serve others. But what you didn’t know was that I never cared for business at all. Since you looked down on the life of a worker so much, I hope in your next life, you’ll only be able to work for someone else—never a boss, never in control. May you feel what it’s like to be commanded, even oppressed, in your job. Maybe then, you'll understand.”

Noah’s mind reeled, “What? This ungrateful son of mine… I gave him the entire company, and now he wishes for me to be a lowly worker in my next life? To be oppressed? Did I really raise such a thankless wretch?”

Meanwhile, Max held his mother’s hand, his outward words filled with gratitude for his father’s guidance. "Thank you, Father, for steering me onto the right path and preventing me from going astray in my youth," he said, his tone sincere, as if he truly appreciated his father's discipline.

Yet, deep within, another voice whispered in the depths of his mind. “You always criticized the people I associated with, saying my friends were of questionable character. I wish that in your next life, every single one of your companions would be from the underworld—no decent people, no respectable connections at all. May you experience the pain of having to interact with the very people you despise, and may you even lower yourself to fear them and obey, trapped by your own fears and prejudice.”

Upon hearing Max's inner thoughts, Noah was struck speechless, unable to even form a coherent response. He had once poured so much effort into guiding his second son away from bad influences, trying to protect him from the wrong crowd. Yet now, not only had his efforts gone unappreciated, but he was being resented for it.

As he stood there, Kix, the youngest, gazed at his father’s lifeless body, his voice choked with emotion. "Dad, you gave me a happy, blessed life. I will always remember your teachings," he said, his words full of gratitude and sorrow, tears streaming down his cheeks.

But inside, Kix’s thoughts were far darker, mocking. “Father, you always despised those who were different, those who loved someone of the same sex. You called them outcasts. I hope that in your next life, you’ll be gay—and not just any gay man, but the kind who is submissive, the kind who finds himself under another man. Not just one, either—let’s make two, no, three or maybe four. I want you to experience what it feels like to be completely dominated.”

Hearing these thoughts, Noah's face turned pale, his body shivering with a coldness he had never known. His heart sank, and he could feel a deep, bone-chilling dread creeping over him. In a panic, he turned to the messenger from the afterlife, his voice trembling with both fear and fury. "This can’t be! My family… they’ve always spoken of gratitude and fond memories, how could they possibly think this way?"

The messenger from the afterlife gave a faint smile, his eyes shimmering with a hint of wisdom. "Mr. Leslie, true desires come from the heart, not from the words spoken. The wishes buried deep within a person are often the most genuine."

A wave of helplessness washed over Noah. His attempt to argue felt weak and futile under the messenger’s calm and knowing smile. He turned his gaze back to his wife and children, only to see the deep, unbridgeable gap between their expressions and the warm words they had spoken to him.

The messenger watched him closely, then spoke again, his voice steady. "The true wishes of your family have been revealed. From here on, you will be reborn according to their desires."

Noah’s heart sank like a stone, as though an invisible hand had clenched around it, choking the life out of him. He tried to protest, to speak, to utter even a single word, but found himself utterly unable to make a sound. His voice was trapped, lodged in his throat as if some unseen force had silenced him. The world around him began to blur, colors and shapes dissolving from his view, leaving only a dismal grayness, a vast, chaotic void. The entire world seemed to spin, faster and faster, pulling his mind and perception into an overwhelming vortex from which there was no escape.