In a modern world, he was the forgotten adopted son, the perfect student no one ever saw, the boyfriend betrayed and ridiculed to the bone.  
When he finally broke, he didn’t cry.  
He laughed.  
And together with the only girl who understood his madness, he turned the school into a circus of blood, fireworks, and red confetti.  
He died smiling, in her arms, happy for the first time.

But death was just the opening act.

Reincarnated as two little demon children in a basket, left at an orphanage in a world of magic, they discovered that every victim of the massacre had been brought along — memories intact, hatred boiling, and now equipped with powers, levels, and skills to fight back.

The treacherous ex-girlfriend.  
The 14 guys who laughed at him.  
The classmates who filmed it.  
The teachers who looked the other way.  
They’re all here.  
And they all remember.

But Joker and Harley don’t want revenge.  
They want to play.

In a world where women are treated as commodities and abandoned children are forgotten, they’re going to build the greatest circus that ever existed.  
With a family of eight insane little sisters, an eternal mother who hugs you to death, and a big sister who came back from the future — only to find out they’d already saved everyone.

Because anyone who messes with their family becomes fireworks.  
And anyone who becomes family gets eternal hugs.

Here, kings, heroines, goddesses, and even the victims themselves will learn the most important lesson:

The Joker never plays fair.  
And the show…  
has only just begun.

**Chapter 38 – The Name Lysithea Never Stopped Saying in Her Prayers**


Her pink shadow wings vanished like smoke, her habit returned to normal, but her heart shattered into a thousand pieces in that same instant.


Then she ran, stumbling, falling to her knees in front of the girl.


Her voice came out so small, so broken, it didn't even sound like the same Lysithea who, minutes earlier, had crushed skulls with hugs of light.  


Lysithea simply collapsed, hugging the trembling body of the girl as if she could stitch time itself back together with her own arms.  


— I prayed for you every single night… every single one… I never stopped… I carried your absence in my chest like a knife… please… tell me it's you…


Mirella, the archer who never cried, let her bow fall and sobbed like a child.  


Graciela, the dwarf who faced armies, dropped to the ground and cried with her face buried in her hands, cursing in dwarvish between sobs:  


— My girl… my first daughter… I baked a cake for you every year… every year…


Chapter 38 - Chapter 38 – The Name Lysithea Never Stopped Saying in Her Prayers