Chapter 1: Curses and Blessings

The curb on the overpass had been too tight, and the driver, too dead to slow down. The truck slammed into the curb’s concrete barrier. The cabin was instantly crushed, along with any evidence of the old driver’s heart attack, but there was nothing to stop the truck’s cargo from pole-vaulting overhead and flying into a building.

Two tons of steel billets, thrown like javelins at 60 kph. The building’s solid concrete walls did nothing to stop them, and little at all did the glass windows even try.

There were 17 casualties, 16 of them pedestrians below, each sustaining a range of injuries from scratches to bone fractures.

The one odd casualty, however, was a fatality—a 23-year-old office worker of unremarkable renown. He was instantly killed by a “projectile,” or so the media reported, but no doubt, the media simply avoided any mention of steel billets shearing off a man’s torso.

He was the only one who died. His coworkers, who had been right beside him, wondered why it was only him. They wallowed in guilt, and attended the man’s funeral together his friends and family.

It was the blackest funeral. Even his family was surprised that so many had turned up for him.

A man of little renown—for him, a hundred people wailed, a cry of grief so haunting and heart-gripping that the gravekeeper had woken from his occupational stupor—that this was not just a job.

The sun shined despite a light drizzle of rain, as if to remind everyone that the love the man left behind would always be brighter than the grief that, surely, would eventually pass.

For all the virtue that the man was made of, no god nor goddess claimed him as he traveled the many worlds as a wandering soul. They had need of heroes and saints, not a simple, loving human.

***

“Oof, what sort of bad luck was this guy born with.” The Vice-Goddess of Reincarnation swiped at a few things on a tablet, stopping at something desirable. Her domain, devoid of all but light and seven pillars of prismatic crystal, proved only to be her loneliness. She was no selfish goddess, however. Her world was unravelling from a power the goddesses and gods once thought harmless—playful, even.

She needed a soul with experience as a man, with the mental fortitude to resist the temptations of the flesh, and a spirit to overcome challenges. A tall order it may be, but this was non-negotiable.

“… Today’s my lucky day.”

She focused on the selection, and a white orb—a soul—appeared smack in the middle of the circle of pillars, overtop of a circular platform with glowing runes.

“Where am I?” the soul asked with its unique song. No human voices were heard here. “Stephen, did you kidnap me for my birthday? Wait, who’s Stephen…”

“What an amusing guy. How do you mistake death for kidnapping?”

The soul’s attention focused on the vice-goddess. “Woah, you’re pretty—ah! Sorry!”

“I take no offense.”

The beauty the soul saw was the calm and cool of the morning dew. There were no faces to be seen, no voices to be heard in this plane of existence. The nature of all was laid bare, and the soul saw the marvel that was a goddess.

“… Rather than that, you are aware that you have died, yes?”

“Died? … Ah…” The soul’s color faded slightly. “Why do I feel this way? I don’t know why I feel … this way.”

“The core of your memories have been left behind in the world that you have left. There may be some lingering vestiges, but they will soon fade away,” the vice-goddess answered. “For your benefit, I have made adjustments so you may remember broad strokes of your world. Otherwise, the sculpt of your soul is surely still as it was the moment you died.”

“So it’s like that, huh… So, why am I here? Miss …”

“I am the Vice-Goddess of Reincarnation, Minimine.”

“Miss Minimine—no, Godess Minimine?—wait, vice-goddess?”

“The Goddess of Reincarnation, my sister, Maximine, is on … extended leave. Also, ‘Minimine’ is fine.”

No voices were heard here. Concepts flowed whole, and things like pronunciation did not matter.

“Huh. Neat.” But it was not ‘neat,’ for the soul knew not the intended pronunciation of its benefactor’s name—a deeply distressing issue, indeed.

“With that said, I require a … ‘Hero’ of sorts. With your world’s entertainment, I am sure you are familiar with the concept?”

“A hero … Wait, like, someone who fights a big scary dude to save the world? Can I pass on that? Sounds rough.”

“Hear me, first. It is not the same thing, and it is not even the same title. In fact, I’ve been having trouble trying to come up with a title for it to show in the System…” Minimine scratched her head. “Well, I’ll come up with something. For now, what I will ask of you will not be as ridiculous as defeating the demon king. Honestly, sometimes I wonder how Maximine has the guts to supercharge a human and yeet it at a Level 200 Demon Lord—”

“Yes? …”

She’d gone off on a tangent. Minimine quickly recomposed herself, even while still a bit embarrassed. “H-however, Gaia is more dangerous than Earth, so you will have to earn some amount of power, no matter what you do. What I ask of you will have you earning just a bit more. You must …”

The soul hovered in trepidation, inching ever so slightly as if leaning forwards.

However, she was not to finish her words.

“Ohoho, what’s this?”

An arrogant voice broke the sky like ceramic fissures, and with the sounding of a death gong, down spilled a purple haze. Minimine’s own divinity, her very authority over this space, kept the haze at bay, but she was only a vice-goddess—not one with enough power to close the fissure, at least not while she was also expending power to keep the soul anchored here.

The god-pimp was undeterred and stepped through a crack, one long leg after the other, until he was before them. For this god, the pleasures of the world are law, and he dons upon himself a concrete form of a human, hiding all manner of devilishness and depravity beneath its skin. He hovered, standing on an invisible board, one hand on a gold-rimmed monocle and the other on his hip. He took off his feathered fedora and took a bow, before looking up with a grin.

“Where are my manners! I am ######, the ###### God!” His eyebrow twitched. “Oh? Of course, my name would be censored anywhere that isn’t my domain—well, too bad!”

He had a voice, and it shook this space.

“######! What’s the meaning of this!” Minimine pushed her divinity all the way, trying with all her might to cram the pest back into its cage. ######, however, budged just an inch.

“Why, I see what you’re trying to do here, Minimine dearest—rather, should I say Mini-mine? Ahaha!—actually, how do you pronounce it? I’ve been meaning to ask—ah.”

He turned an unforgiving eye towards the soul, which was still bobbing about over the summoning platform. A premonition struck Minimine, and she hurried to toss all of the usual bonus divine stuffings at the soul and yeet him down to Gaia before ###### could mess things up again this time.

“[Blessing of Reincarnation: Champion]! Find a temple dedicated to Maximine! Now, be off!—”

“[Blessing of the ###### God: Like Moths to a Flame]. Have fun, little one.”

Minimine’s eyes twisted into horror, even as she sent the soul down to Gaia. With more of her power freed, she put all of it into kicking ###### back into his domain.

With the Domain of Reincarnation back to normal, Minimine fell to her knees and sobbed. “I’m sorry—your doomed fate! I’m so sorry!”

Any of the gods who were watching felt just a smidgen of sympathy for her, but all of disdain for ######. This happened all the time, however, and they could not, in all their power, do anything about it.

Little did any of them know that none of this would really cause a problem for the soul who was given its second life.

***

He woke up in the middle of a forest. His body was fully-formed, that of a 17-year-old. Looking into the reflection of a nearby pond confirmed as much: blue hair, a Caucasian face, and with a quick inspection, he was most assuredly a man, equipped even with what appeared to be this world’s fashion for men: a tunic, trousers, and sandals. The sandals didn’t feel quite right in this terrain—the forest floor was damp, and he could feel the leaves tickling the sides of his feet. Hopefully there weren’t mosquitoes gunning for his exposed skin there.

He wasn’t sure what to make of the last thing that happened. Minimine—which he had settled to pronounce as “Mini-mi-nee,” as in Greek—had told him to go find a Temple to Maximine—a name which he’d started pronouncing in a similar way.

He was hoping to get a clearer picture of his purpose in this world if he did that.

“In this world”—he remembered the last one, but not clearly. He had a mysterious, trivial knowledge of all the things and places, but no details about his supposed prior life. It just felt like memories of a dream.

“Even if I don’t remember my first life … I’ll make the most out of this one!”

That’s when a transparent panel appeared in front of him.

***

Name: <Please enter your name>
Age: 17
Occupation: Champion of Reincarnation
Lvl. 1 Human
HP: <ERROR>
MP: 10/10

[Skills]

All-Language Fluency (MAX)

[Companions]

Minimine (Flagged)
Vice-Goddess of Reincarnation
Affection: 5

[Blessings]

[Blessing of Reincarnation: Champion]
You have been chosen as a Champion of the Domain of Reincarnation. It’s like being a Hero, but a little bit more flexible on the work hours. You gain immediate access to magic, and you level up immediately each time you defeat an opponent 5 levels higher than yourself; the standard XP system is locked from you. Gain additional skill points per level.

[Blessing of the ##### God: Like Moths to a Flame]
You are a young man with a bright future ahead of you. Anyone from little girls to millions-year-old deities will instantly hold favorable impressions of you at first meeting without rhyme nor reason. Unlocks the ###### Companion System—get that Affection to 100!

***

It’s just about what was expected—except for the errored-out HP and the yet-to-be-entered name. There were more things to be said about the “Blessings,” like how Minimine’s Blessing sounded a bit cobbled-together. It says I have immediate access to magic, but where is it? He elected to deal with the more pressing concern: his namelessness.

Yes, a name was more important than raising a goddess’s flag. He simply did not want to think about that for a while.

“What’s a normal-sounding name around here, I wonder?” First impressions were important. He didn’t want to accidentally make up a foreign-sounding name just in case he’d landed in a country that regards all foreigners as spies, or something crazy like that.

He wasn’t even sure if his current appearance was considered local to the area. Hopefully the language skill he got wouldn’t be afflicted with a foreign accent—but that’d probably be asking for too much, wouldn’t it?

His first order of business was to find civilization. There looked to be some foot trails around where he appeared, so there might be a town nearby—

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“Halt right there!”

A woman’s voice boomed, and much too close for comfort. He turned around, and from where the forest started, not 10 meters away, a squad of five knights emerged, having cut their way through the bushes.

At least, they were probably knights. They looked more like witch hunters. Two of them were burning incense from censors hanging from their waists, and all of them wore plate armor that was plastered in what looked like talismans tacked-on with wax seals. All of them had weapons drawn: three with swords closer to him, and the other two at the rear with a crossbow and a spear.

From whatever he could see through the thin slits of their visors, which were clamped down shut, he ascertained whether they were out to kill or capture—he’d run away in the earlier case.

“Don’t make eye contact!” the squad leader at the very front shouted. “Zerena, Alki, move to his sides!”

The newly-reincarnated guy was downright nervous, but he could still vaguely recall being arrested by police in his previous life, so he knew what to do.

“U-uh, can I know what’s the problem?”

For a moment, the knights all froze in place. He could tell through their visors, they’d winced when he spoke.

“Your resistances!” the squad leader shouted.

“Successfully resisted!” “Resisted!” her squadmates all replied in turn. Wait, they’re all women?

For the knights, that meant they had room for negotiation. However, a certain idiot needed to learn to shut up.

“You!” She pointed at him with her sword. “Starting now, do not speak unless permitted! Any step away from where you stand will be interpreted as a hostile action and we will cut you down as such! Nod once if I am understood!”

No Miranda Rights around these parts, huh? Damn. He quickly nodded once, letting a bit of his nervousness leak through.

He was surprised, deep down, that he wasn’t as nervous as he ought to be in this situation, chalking it up to being literally just “born,” in one sense of the word, just a few minutes ago. This world wasn’t quite real to him yet.

“Seldi,” the squad leader ordered, “Appraise him.”

The spear knight at the back raised her spear to a rest before staring at him. One of the paper talismans on her armor burned up, causing the crossbow knight beside her to shift uncomfortably, but she soon lowered her spear again.

“He is a Cursed Reincarnator!” she announced. This confused the man himself, since he didn’t have a [Curses] section in his stats—but he figured, looking through his [Blessings], that being an unwilling womanizer was probably the closest to a curse that he had—he simply just wasn’t that type of dude.

It was a little bit weird to be treated as a walking time bomb if the only effect that “Blessing” had was to make a bunch of girls feel nice about him out of nowhere. Wouldn’t it be straightforward to just—just maybe—reject them all gracefully?

It would surely be annoying, but it didn’t seem like a big deal. The existence of the [Companions] section probably also meant a bunch of benefits or stat upgrades down the line for anyone considered his “Companion”—who ostensibly would be a girl who liked him to some degree—so the overall benefits were actually pretty good.

Friends have crushes on friends all the time, so none of it looked like some weird, flag-ridden, fate-sealing thing to him. He’d just take care of any of his Companion’s feelings, clarify their positions, and they’d still get the upgrades—not a bad deal!

“Listen well, Cursed One,” the squad leader continued, “I permit you to answer the following question with three words, maximum: How long have you been in this country?”

He didn’t even know what country this was, but anyway, “Five minutes.”

Paper talismans started burning up. It didn’t matter all that much, since each knight had dozens, but they winced all the same. The talismans were obviously protecting them from something that was coming from him, and he was really miffed that he didn’t know what, exactly, was coming off of him.

The squad leader, meanwhile, stood still.

“Leader?” the sword knight beside her asked.

“I’m only thinking. This does not make sense. To be this deep inside Lyrica within five minutes…”

She eyed him up and down. He could have only gotten this far if he was incredibly powerful, but none of them would still be standing here if he were.

Her next best guess, accounting for the man’s apparent confusion—no, it was more like he was dazed—he was likely reincarnated just now, and in this very place.

But, matured reincarnations like this one were only ever sent down to the Isles of Rem, which could only be reached by crossing two other countries’ borders.

In short, this was an extraordinary event.

“Everyone, hear me first,” she started, “It is not likely that this man is powerful enough to be this deep into Lyrica without the Royal Detector’s heed. Seldi, you have seen his undoubtedly-sorrowful status, yes?”

“That is so.”

“Then, the most reasonable, and no doubt extraordinary, circumstance is that he was reincarnated here, in this very place.”

This earned nervous shuffling from her squadmates.

“By this reasoning, we will forgo protocol and bring him straight to the Inquisition. Any objections?”

“Inquisition”? That sounded kinda bad to him, but maybe it wasn’t such a bad organization in this world? Not like he had a choice, anyway.

Her squadmates didn’t protest. She ordered the two swords to watch closely, then approached him with wooden cuffs.

The moment she came within 1 meter of him, all of the talismans on her armor burned off in a flash.

“Leader!” “You bastard! What did you do!”

The guy was panicking. He had nothing to do with this! “It wasn’t me! I’m not moving, I swear!”

With that many words from his mouth, half the talismans on the other knights burned off. One of them fired their crossbow, but before it hit him, a sword swiped it from the air.

“Leader?!” “Jyn!” “Shit, she’s been charmed!”

“Quiet!”

The squad leader, her armor now covered in black soot, brandished her sword towards her fellow knights. She turned her head slightly to the guy, however—

“And you! The more you speak, the more you place them at risk!”

Two swords tried and failed to cut the man down, parried both ways by their squad leader.

“Gah! Jyn is too strong!” “You bastard, let go of Jyn this instant!”

The guy was gonna say something, but this Jyn girl said something about his talking at all making things worse.

Well, it’s making things worse for the other knights. It probably wouldn’t do the same to Jyn?

“Jyn, right?” he whispered. “So if I whisper like this, it’s fine?”

“Tsk. Y-yes. I find your courtesy disgusting, however … even if you’re not actually that bad—shit, fucking charm effects.”

“Look, nothing’s doing it for anyone here, so at least tell me. What’s the best way to diffuse this situation?”

Going by what she’s been remarking, he’s already figured out the insta-charm stuff going on—turned out the [Blessing of the ###### God] was nasty stuff.

Jyn trembled for a while. Her knights were still at a loss, but they’d picked up on her conversation with the guy. She spoke in a volume that everyone could hear. “T-the charm effect of the curse m-means that I’ll try to act in your favor. I-if you just—”

Something was stopping her from saying it. Did the charm effect also stop her from actively saying anything about how to dispel it?

He figured the compulsion effect was stronger, though.

“Just say it,” he whispered.

“G-gah! Thank you—shit, was that the charm or a real thank you? A-anyway, i-if it’s in your interest to get arrested, s-so the Inquisition can sort this out, that would be splendid for everyone’s wellbeing here!”

“Before that,” he had something to make sure of, “are the Inquisition people nice?”

“Inquisition policy is to dispose of violent offenders.”

“And non-violent ones?”

“They are isolated for research. H-hearsay is that they are put on an island full of only men.”

Ah. That’s a bit sad.

“A-as for your case, you seem to be an extraordinary one. I can only imagine that protocol will be subverted in favor of … more flexible reasoning.”

He only had bad options. He could use Jyn to fight off the other knights and retreat—only to be hunted for days on end. She’d also mentioned a “Royal Detector,” whatever that was, but it sounded a lot like they’d always know where he was as long as he was inside the country. With his sad Level 1 stats, and lack of information, there was nowhere he could run.

Also, he was just way too law-abiding to resist authority.

“Sounds great!” He slowly moved his hands to a ‘Please cuff me, officer’ position. Jyn turned around and found him grinning with his wrists ready to be clamped.

“You’re a strange one—wait, was that a charm effect, too…”

… And that was how he got arrested and put in solitary confinement on his very first day in this world.

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