Revenge is best served cold is the best current series by the author Webfic. The Chapter 275 The Scary Little Boy content below will immerse us in a world of love and hatred, where characters use every trick to achieve their goals without concern for the other half—only to regret it later. Please read chapter Chapter 275 The Scary Little Boy and stay updated with the next chapters of this series at nisfree.com.
As soon as I arrived at the Simpson residence, I smoothly took out my access card and let myself in.
Unlike usual, when Mr. Simpson would be waiting for me in the dining room downstairs, the first floor was eerily empty today.
I called out twice, but no one responded.
"How strange. Didn't we agree to sign the contract today? Why isn't anyone here?" I muttered to myself.
Given their personalities, even if they had to step out, Mr. and Mrs. Simpson would've let me know. There was no reason for them to leave without a word.
Just as I was lost in thought, I caught a glimpse of a figure from the corner of my eye. I turned around cautiously. It was a young boy who looked no older than ten. He stood not too far away, staring at me unblinkingly.
The suddenness of it nearly made my heart stop.
"Are you looking for Sebastian?"
Before I could even speak, the boy beat me to it.
I nodded. "Yeah. And you are…"
He suddenly burst into laughter, walking toward me with a mysterious expression.
"I am Sebastian! There was an accident during one of my experiments, so I turned into a kid!"
I had to admit that my mind was completely blown away for a second. Before my rebirth, I had always been a firm believer in science. But considering the fact that I had been reborn, who was I to say he was lying?
"M-Mr. Simpson?" I hesitantly called out, then cautiously asked, "So… What do you need me to do?"
The boy responded calmly, "Help me get pudding from the fridge. I'm too short to reach it now."
I nodded, then walked to the fridge and opened it. Just as I was about to grab the pudding, something clicked in my mind. I remembered very clearly that Mr. Simpson hated sweets.
In fact, he would lecture me about it if I added even the slightest bit of sugar whenever I cooked for him.
I slowly turned around and locked eyes with the boy. Testing the waters, I called out, "Mr. Simpson?"
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