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Reincarnated As An Alpha Crime Lord (A Cat has Nine Lives)

Reincarnated As An Alpha Crime Lord (A Cat has Nine Lives)

Ali Ce

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Rodrigo Velázquez, a 30 year old guy, who has been a victim of bully ever since highschool. He had a sustainable amount of money and assets. He faced several bullies everyday but he was scared to fight back. He was murdered by his girlfriend and and the guy who bullies him so as to gain total control over his assets and money. However, fate took it's turn when he woke up. He woke up in a different timeline. He woke up in the body of a powerful Alpha crime lord. Woke up like a cat with 9 lives. An entire multi-million dollar empire laid before him. An empire that belonged to him with hundreds of ruthless werewolves working for him. He has to protect the empire at all cost. The empire was being fought by a criminal organization. A criminal organization led by a ruthless beautiful woman who wanted him dead by all possible means. Rodrigo must decide which was more important to him. His new life, his new family or his empire.

Chapter 1 Reincarnated

There a lots of proverbs in the world but an exceptional old English proverb says "A cat has nine lives"

"For three he plays, for three he strays, and for the last three he stays".

We've all heard of the common myth about cats haven't nine lives. But is it true? Does a cat truly has nine lives?

And where does this fiction of feline immortality actually come from? And why is it the number nine?

Nine is considered a magical number, which could also be part of the reason cats are attributed with nine lives.

Cats are mysterious creatures and have been both worshipped and feared throughout the ages and are seen as magical creatures.

The myth that cats have multiple lives exists across the world but no one exactly knows where the expression came from, but it has been around for centuries.

But do cats actually have nine lives?

No! Cats have one life just like any other living creature, most people would say. Cats are lovely and adorable creatures.

They're probably the most independent pet out there. They can withstand falls and other serious accidents without being fatally wounded, which is perhaps where the saying ‘a cat has nine lives’ actually comes from.

But Why nine lives?

Can cats cheat death?

Most people would disagree on that but trust me, I've experienced this Feline immorality. It's real and it happened to me.

I woke up one morning and I was a cat with 9 lives.

*

*

At my funeral, my family waited in a line, leading to the casket so that people can say their condolences and then see the deceased before taking their seats.

They then began their officiant speech about my life, the kind of person I was and all the nice bullshít they said about me that we all knew weren't true.

A few of them said some prayers for me. Other's just shook their head at my corpse and left. It's kinda funny how people can pretend at ones funeral, isn't it?

At last, Joe, the guy who always bullied me was called forth to deliver a eulogy. He stood in front of everyone and told some stories about me.

I gotta say, he did try to keep it lighthearted and funny or super sweet. He did have a lot to say about me and so did many others.

Even my girlfriend, Sally.

Pathetic! Really pathetic.

I'm glad I wasn't alive to listen to all those trash spilling from their mouths and yet, the memory was mysterious imbedded in me.

Afterwards, these two people were the very ones who had me murdered.

Finally, they closed my casket and the pall bearers carried my pale stiff body through the attendees to the hearse.

Everyone followed behind the hearse in a funeral procession in their own cars to the burial place.

It was a stormy afternoon with dark clouds blotting any ray of sunlight from touching the earth.

It rained cat and dogs with claps of thunder and sounds of flashing hitting everywhere.

Once at the cemetery, my immediate family all sat in front in chairs while every one else stood behind them in a semi circle.

The pall bearers carried my casket from the hearse to the final resting place and they say some more prayers and last words, or whatever they have planned to say to me.

My family, friends or whoever, placed flowers on my casket to be buried with me.

Immediately everyone left, the casket was lowered into the ground and covered with dirt.

Dirt kept dropping on my casket until it was blotted out from this world forever.

Up above the soil was my headstone.

Rodrigo Velázquez 1993–2023

A bolt of lighting flashed across the sky followed by a resounding thunder clap.

*

*

Grr!!

Grr!!

The alarm stopped ringing and I sat upright on the bed. A groan escaped my mouth as I rubbed my head.

I opened my eyes slightly to find myself in a small room.

"Wh..where am I?" I muttered as I looked around the room.

I was shocked when I heard my voice. It was deep and masculine.

My hands sharply went to my throat and I felt it. A strong Adams apple.

"Strange" my lips moved. I glanced down at my hand to find my skin fresh and olive.

Across the room was a wall mirror. I climbed out of my bed and hurried over to it.

What I saw startled me and almost lost my breath.

I looked different or rather, I was in the body of a rather outstanding good looking man.

The man who owns this room was taller, stronger and very impressive. He's got a strong jawline and very brightful green eyes.

His mass of ginger curly hair were shoulder length and silky.

I started at my reflection, unable to believe this was real.

"Oh darling! I can't take it anymore" I heard the voice of a woman.

"I am just getting started! open your legs wider dear" said a man and my eyes widened.

"Huh? What's going on?"

I approached the door and opened it a fraction to find myself looking at a long corridor. Eight rooms away from mine was where the noise was coming from.

It was the noise a man and woman makes whenever they make love.

I was surprised at how I was able to hear their voices from a far distance. I gently closed the door and returned back to my room.

The time on my alarm read thirty-five minutes passed four o'clock. I drew back the curtains of my room and glanced outside to realize it was already morning with the sun nearly dawning to begin the new day.

"Faster, darling, give it to me faster" the woman from the ninth room moaned, raising her voice louder.

I sat down on my bed and scratched the back of my head in confusion. But what exactly happened? The last thing I remember was being attacked by a bunch of people then I passed out into darkness and never woke up.

What the heck, I'm supposed to be dead so how am I still alive and in a strangers body.

I had so many questions on my mind and It drove me nuts.

Finally, I decided to take a deep breath and keep calm. Whenever I'm in a jam, silence and steady slow breathing goes a long way to make me calm.

More than anything else, I wished I had a cigarette. Thinking would probably make more sense to me once I have a cigarette in between my lips.

But first, I gotta get outta here.

I didn't bother brushing my teeth or getting into a shower. I felt weak and wobbly, but not as wobbly as I thought I was going to feel.

I went over to the closet and opened the door. I found an expensively tailored yellow-white flannel suit on a hanger, a pair of black leather foreign shoes, and a wide-brimmed hat on a shelf.

I stared at the clothes, knowing they were not mine but that wasn't going to stop me.

I hastily threw the clothes on and I also wore the black shoes I found on the shoe stacks and took the hat, fitting it properly on my head.

Looking myself before the mirror, I couldn't help but be astonished.

The man reflected before me was the most impressive male I've ever seen. Slim, but powerfully-built, with his curly ginger swept-back hair, his long face, an eagle-like nose and dark penetrating hawk eyes.

I caressed the gold omega wrist watch on my wrist and felt the gold rings on my fingers. On my index finger was a big Ruby ring.

Another ring caught my attention and I stared at it intently. It had a wolf like shape and it was made of pure gold

I realized I was in the body of a rather wealthy powerful person. I saw a pair of black sunglasses in the table then I wore it on my face.

Grabbing a bulky wallet I found on the reading table, I found my way out of the room, walked down the corridor until I was in the old elevator cage.

Dipping my hand in my suit instinctively, I produced a gold cigarette case with initials in diamonds.

Surprisingly, I also produced a gold lighter, also decorated with silver.

I lit a cigarette as the cage descended to the hotel lobby. I got to the hotel lobby then I dropped the key to the receptionist and walked out of the building.

As soon as I was out, I turned to look the building I was in. It was a motel. I must've spent the night here. I knew deep within myself I didn't; I just woke up in there.

A few folks could be seen walking around the streets. Traffic was less but it won't be for long. Once the day's bright enough, everywhere would be jammed with cars and people.

As I drew in smoke from the cigarette, I boarded an empty bus and sat down at the back. I had no idea where I was going and I didn't care. I just wanted to get as far away from where I woke up as possible.

I kept smoking, taking my time to clear my head. With time, thinking became suddenly easier.

Now that I think of it, I observed a lot of things are odd with this place. I hadn't the faintest idea where I was.

The people I saw on the streets through my window were all wearing old fashioned clothes.

Even the cars were old fashioned. They were Cars of my time when I was still a kid.

My hands went through the expensive suit I wore and out of my pockets, I found a brown coloured journal.

I went through the journal, searching for the date. What I found came as a shock to me.

"6th January 1986" I muttered in shock.

With my widened eyes, I sharply pulled out my cigarette from my lips and rubbed my eyes to be sure I wasn't dreaming.

1986? That's seven years after I must've been born. I had died the year 6th of January 2023.

No that's not the word. It's murdered. Yes, I was murdered, I remembered clearly now.

I was murdered on the 6th of January .

And yet I'm still alive but in a totally different time. Back to the past.

By the look of things, I think I can comprehend what was happening.

It seemed I got reincarnated. I never believed such things exists. I've read about it, watched movies that showcased it, even heard stories about it.

But I never imagined something like that could happen, specifically to me.

As I pondered on this, the bus stopped.

"Last stop!" The driver yelled.

Stepping out of the bus, I walked down the streets, eyes watchful.

I felt light headed. It was unbelievable. I remained where I stood, looking like a virgin on her first night on prom.

Glancing down at the journal in my hand, I studied it. It appears the man who's body I inhabited was someone of importance.

The journal held many events and activities only a billionaire would write in his journal.

Then I saw his name.

**MacLeod Donovan**

"MacLeod? Who was he?"

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