All Chapters of The Accidental Rebirth: The Troubles of a Three-Year-Old CEO: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

When the first ray of morning sunlight peeked through the curtain, Takuto Kimura’s LEGO financial empire was at its peak.In the middle of his bedroom stood a proud 4-square-meter replica of the Tokyo Stock Exchange. The glowing “electronic trading board” (scribbled with highlighters) blinked above the floor. Twelve LEGO minifigures, all dressed in tiny suits he had hand-cut from old socks and paper, stood neatly in formation on the “trading floor.”“The Nikkei opens up 0.8% today,” Takuto announced in a voice deepened by puberty—or at least his best attempt. Adjusting his imaginary glasses, he carefully shifted a red LEGO block representing Toyota stock. “Toyota has broken through the ¥8,000 mark. Commence block trade…”Suddenly, the door slammed open.“Onii-chan! Play house with me!”Five-year-old Mei Kimura burst in, clutching her one-eyed teddy bear. Her little feet stomped straight into the banking sector, smashing a section of clear bricks.“Don’t move! That’s the Bank of Japan’

Takuto Kimura stood in front of the bathroom mirror, having just finished wiping the water from his face—when suddenly, his eyes locked onto something on his forehead.A single pimple.Bright red. Perfectly round. Boldly positioned right between his eyebrows like it was challenging him. It stood tall like a miniature volcano, moments from erupting.“This can’t be happening!”He sucked in a sharp breath. His finger trembled as it moved closer to the blemish, like it was pointing at a financial market crash indicator.“I’ve been meticulous with my skincare! Twice-daily cleansing, oil-control toner, moisturizing lotion, even weekly deep-clean masks!”Leaning closer, he examined the business-image-destroyer in full detail. It was plump, glossy, and somehow gleaming under the bathroom light, as if announcing:“You, Takut

Takuto Kimura stood at the blackboard, explaining the solution steps for last week’s math quiz—a routine task in his capacity as the class’s “Academic Consultant.”His analysis was precise, even incorporating elements of Bayesian probability theory. Everything was proceeding smoothly… until his gaze happened to drift toward the window-side seat in the third row.Transfer student Haruko Sato was taking notes.Sunlight danced across the tips of her light brown hair. The way she furrowed her brows slightly in thought made Takuto forget entirely what he was talking about.“Therefore, we can deduce that… uh…”His voice trailed off. He felt like his CPU had just overheated.“This... that…”The entire class stared in shock. Their usually eloquent “Little Professor” had suddenly become a stammering mess. Miu, sitting nearby,

 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

On 2:15 AM, a faint, 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