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Despite everything that happened at home, Kazuya walked through the streets of Kuoh with the expression of someone who had just pulled a limited SSR with a 0.0001% chance.
Lost gaze, goofy smile, light steps, as if he were floating.
If someone passed by him at that moment, they'd say, "This guy is definitely in love."
And well… they weren't entirely wrong.
But the saddest or funniest part was that it wasn't even that.
"Hmm… I really want to throw a jab at someone at the speed of light like Karna. Maybe I could invade the underworld and punch Rias's brother in the face, or perhaps I could head to Olympus and beat the crap out of Zeus for defeating Adam, our father, because of plot. That son of a bitch would see what real boxing is…" he muttered, ignoring the sound of birds, the curious stares from people on the street, and the red light that nearly got him run over by an old lady on a bicycle.
It was only when he passed by a convenience store and saw his reflection in the glass—disheveled hair, impeccable uniform, and that damned satisfied idiot smile—that his brain clicked. A dramatic anime-style click.
His eyes widened. Reality hit with the force of an isekai truck.
"…WAIT. I FORGOT SOMETHING REALLY IMPORTANT."
The memory came back like a flashback scene full of visual effects: sweaty bodies, breathless whispers, ancient gods moaning his name as if he were the final protagonist of the universe. And then, it hit him.
"I LOST MY VIRGINITY IN THIS WORLD!!"
The internal scream was so loud it almost echoed in the physical world.
He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, eyes wide, while an elderly couple looked at him with a "kids these days…" expression.
In his past life? He'd had experience.
As Fujimaru? He'd had his moments, with mods and all.
But here… in this divine body of offensive beauty, an indecent mix of Gojou and Toji, the kind that made girls trip just by looking at him, he hadn't crossed that line yet.
Well, until last night. With two goddesses. At the same time.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath…
And then let out a laugh.
Not a normal laugh.
An evil laugh.
The kind that would make Aizen think, "This guy's going too far."
Something between Blackbeard finding the One Piece and Dio preparing to yell "Za Warudo."
"Fuhahahaha…!"
Passersby stepped back in fear. A dog barked. A pigeon fell from the sky in shock.
But Kazuya quickly composed himself, bringing a hand to his mouth, clearing his throat, and assuming a calm, cool, Sigma-worthy posture. With firm steps and a neutral expression, he resumed walking as if nothing had happened. Nothing, that is, except the fact that he, a gacha-obsessed otaku, had surpassed Issei Hyoudou in less than a week of his new life.
But something started to bother him a little as he continued on his way. Walking leisurely down the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, mind wandering between SSRs and what he'd have for lunch, he passed by a pawnshop.
No big deal.
Until the shop's alarm went off, the door flew open, and the owner ran up to him, holding a velvet box in his hands as if it were the Holy Grail.
"Sir! Please, take this! It's a pink diamond the size of a quail egg! I don't know why, but I feel morally obligated to give it to you!"
Kazuya blinked, confused. Looked to the side. Looked up. Looked at himself.
"…Not again."
"Uh… thanks?"
"No! Thank *you* for existing!"
The man knelt down and started crying tears of gratitude.
Kazuya just accepted the box, turned around, and kept walking as if it were normal. And, well… it was.
Because that was the damned [Golden Rule: Rank EX] in action.
The universe literally paid him to live.
A few steps later, an old lady tripped and dropped her wallet. Kazuya picked it up and tried to return it, but she refused with a radiant smile.
"Young man… I was cured of my arthritis just by looking at you. Keep it. Consider it a gift from the heavens."
He opened the wallet out of reflex.
500,000 yen in cash.
"Of course… why not?"
Right after, a tree in the nearby park shook without wind, and a sack of gold coins fell from a branch. Literally. Like in a cartoon.
"Okay, now you guys are overdoing it…" he grumbled, picking up the sack and shaking it. *Clink clink*. It was genuine gold. And probably Roman.
But the peak was when a van screeched to a halt, and a businessman in a suit shouted from the window:
"Hey! You! I just won the lottery just by looking at your aura! Want 10%?"
"No, thanks…" Kazuya replied politely.
"Then… 30%!"
Kazuya sighed.
"I just want to go to school. In peace."
He stored everything in his dimensional inventory and continued on his way to Kuoh with the calmness of someone who could buy half the city and still have change to spend on gacha.
And for a second, he thought:
"If this were a game, my 'lucky' stat would be considered cheating. Wait, ever since I got the gacha, my luck's been weird… now that I think about it, could it be because I got another past life where I was Ritsuka Fujimaru, and my luck somehow improved in the process?"
When he reached the gates of Kuoh Academy, the stares were already following him. Girls whispered, guys glared with anger and envy, and the infamous "Kuoh Desperate Virgins Club" sighed in unison.
But Kazuya just walked past, hands in pockets, calm demeanor.
On the inside?
"I really need to tone down my charisma. If this keeps up, the whole school will turn into a romance route."
But on the outside?
Just a Sigma, as always.
After entering the school building, Kazuya climbed the stairs with the grace of a protagonist who knew the anime opening was playing just for him. The glass panels reflected his flawless silhouette, the uniform perfectly fitted over a body that looked like it had been sculpted with 3D modeling hacks. His hair was messy in just the right way, as if a stylist had spent the night "accidentally" making him look perfect.
On the second floor, he spotted the legendary trio of idiots.
Issei, Matsuda, and Motohama.
Before, the Triforce of Perversion. Now?
They were all in a trance, drooling over Kiba, the school's blonde prince. But here's the funny detail: their jealousy wasn't about the girls surrounding Kiba.
It was about the girls being in *their* way.
Matsuda was muttering something about "broad shoulders and a noble soul." Motohama, with his glasses crooked from so much emotion, whispered that "the blonde deserved more than this rotten world." And Issei? Issei had hearts in his eyes, full-on anime style. He was probably seeing cherry blossom petals around Kiba.
Kazuya paused for a second. Observed the scene.
And smirked.
Not out of mockery. Not out of pity. But the kind of smile that says, "I caused this. And it was hilarious."
He ignored the three completely and continued on his way, calm steps, hands in pockets. With every step, something strange happened: the girls around Kiba started shifting their gazes. One by one, as if pulled by a magnet.
And that magnet was Kazuya.
They stared at him with sparkling eyes, hearts practically leaping, as if they'd found the fusion of Arjuna Alter and Levi Ackerman.
But Kazuya? Didn't even blink.
"Hmph. Still need to figure out what build to use in this world. Can't get distracted with NPC side romance."
The truth was, he'd forgotten something important. Again.
Nothing new under the sun.
Throughout the entire reality transition, his focus had been on rebirth, power, Longinus, school, and everything else—Ishtar trying to attack him with love, and Ereshkigal acting like they'd been engaged since Eden. He hadn't even stopped to think…
"What the hell do I want to do here?"
His enrollment in Kuoh was a direct result of the machinations of the red-haired man. A redhead who, honestly, deserved a clean cut through his death lines. Because if anyone could do that, it was him. And his eyes.
Reaching the third-year classroom, he opened the door without ceremony. Some students were already there, chatting quietly or fiddling with their phones. No one noticed his entrance.
Wrong.
No one had time to notice.
Because the moment he stepped into the room, the air changed. The girls turned, the guys frowned. The universe seemed to hold its breath.
But Kazuya simply walked to his desk, sat down, and let out a sigh.
Slow. Deep. The kind that carries the weight of two lives, a gacha system, and a horde of girls and enemies closing in.
He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, gaze lost.
"Build a harem?"
He mentally rolled his eyes.
With the [Fate Gacha], that practically happened by osmosis. Summoning Servants who remembered him as Ritsuka Fujimaru? Check. Having emotionally complicated relationships with them? Check. It was almost automatic.
But world domination?
"What am I, Dio? Ainz Ooal Gown? Madara? A Lelouch wannabe? Nah."
Being the final boss of the world was never his style. It was fun in games, but too much work in real life. Besides, the DxD world was already full of megalomaniacs with domination plans. It didn't need another one.
And protecting humanity?
Kazuya furrowed his brow.
"Humans are treated like cattle in this world…"
Let's be honest, Rias, the supposed heroine, the idealized redhead, only wasn't wearing a "you're my precious pawn" collar because she was too proud.
"She wants a pawn to get her out of that arranged marriage. And she thinks she has the right to choose for me."
And then, he thought of Gilgamesh.
The King of Heroes. The most arrogant. The most powerful. The most honest.
What would Gilgamesh do in this situation?
He'd probably look at the world, say "Pathetic," cross his arms, open the [Gate of Babylon], and launch swords at the problems until everyone bowed before him. Because to Gil, everything was his, including the world.
And you know what?
Kazuya could respect that.
But he wasn't Gilgamesh.
He was Kazuya. With memories of Fujimaru. With a Gojou-Toji body. With a gacha that defied logic and world balance. With eyes capable of erasing anything alive, being a Dragon that could make Ddraig and Albion into puppies, with infinite magical energy, a supreme boxer capable of throwing a hook at any Baki-style character: "Shiva, take the champion's right hook!" and *pow*, he'd drop like a sack of potatoes.
But he had time.
Time to decide.
For now?
He just wanted to survive the first period without falling asleep.
The classroom gradually filled with the typical school noise: laughter, hurried footsteps, phones buzzing with useless notifications, Sona and Tsubaki entering, and everyone behaving a little better…
Kazuya stayed silent in his corner, eyes closed, reflecting on existence—or at least on where he could find a property with decent soundproofing.
Because, let's be real, if a 2,000-year-old drunk Oni starts singing enka at three in the morning because she dreamed of a Heian Period festival, you need walls thicker than Gilgamesh's ego.
"I need a bigger place too. It's already getting cramped with three additions. Urgent…"
Meanwhile, the classroom's atmosphere began to shift.
As if the temperature had risen two degrees. As if the oxygen had been replaced with French perfume and hidden intentions.
Akeno and Rias Gremory entered.
The classic Occult Research Club duo. The crew that pulled off school domination cosplay without even trying.
Akeno came with her usual smile—kind and cruel at the same time, as if saying, "Hi, darling, I'm thinking about romantically electrocuting you later."
And Rias? Well… Rias was the kind of redhead who made others literally kneel. The hair, the eyes, the presence. Everything about her screamed "demonic nobility," but with that touch of "rebel princess who needs a new pawn to defy the world."
And Kazuya?
He just wanted to buy a house.
Rias walked to his desk with determined steps, silencing several students. It was as if the main route's protagonist had just made her romance choice, live, in front of everyone.
"Kazuya-kun…" she said in that calm but firm tone, "I'll be free after class today. I thought we could continue the literature project."
Kazuya blinked slowly.
A pause. Dramatic silence.
He gave a polite smile. The kind that masked deeply anticlimactic thoughts.
"Sorry, Rias… I can't today…" he replied, with a gentle, almost innocent voice.
Rias raised an eyebrow, surprised. This was rare. Like, solar eclipse-level rare.
"Oh? Plans?"
"Something like that…" He scratched the back of his neck. "Personal stuff…"
"Like using my infinite, unjustified money to buy a house with enough space to store all the Servants that'll show up out of nowhere because of the gacha."
Rias hesitated for a moment but smiled afterward.
"I see. We can reschedule for tomorrow, what do you think?"
"Sure…" he replied naturally. But on the inside?
"I should schedule this with my lawyer. Or an exorcist."
Rias walked to her seat with the lightness of someone unaccustomed to hearing "no." Akeno, who had been watching the scene with interest, let out a low giggle, as if thoroughly entertained by it.
"Ara, Kazuya-kun… rejecting a lady so directly? Playing hard to get, hm?" she murmured, leaning toward him with that feline gaze.
Kazuya looked at her with a smirk that said, "I've seen Servants with EX-rank NPs try the same, darling," and replied:
"Let's just say I'm a specialist in alternative routes."
Akeno laughed, satisfied, and followed Rias to the other side of the room.
Kazuya let out a sigh.
But before he could get lost in his own daydreams, someone peeked through the door.
A messenger of fate, with an air of "important things are about to happen."
It was the teacher.
"Alright, everyone seated. Class is starting!"
Kazuya settled into his desk, arm propped on his chin, indifferent expression. The Sigma protagonist in energy-saving mode.
But on the inside?
"Buy a house. Buy a bigger fridge. See if I can get a top-tier insurance contract. Priorities."
And as the teacher began writing on the board, he thought silently:
"I wonder what'll happen when Ishtar and Eresh find out Shuten's at home…?"
Putting that aside, he focused on studying for now.
The day continued in Kuoh with the surprising normalcy of an anime episode before the cosmic conflict arc's opening.
Classes passed one after another, as if the universe had decided to give Kazuya a break. No supernatural attacks, no unexpected summons, no hysterical "DRAGON BOOSTAAAAAH!" screams from a nearby locker room. Just the sound of pages turning, boards scribbled with formulas that would be utterly useless in a world where magic existed, and the classic bored murmur of students pretending to care.
Kazuya, for his part?
He was chilling. As much as possible, anyway.
While the teacher talked about Japanese literature and the symbolism of haikus, Kazuya was mentally humming "Carry On My Wayward Son" by Kansas, as if narrating his own life as a protagonist with a grand destiny. It wasn't his fault that song made anyone feel like they were driving back from an exorcism in a classic car with a shotgun in the trunk.
"There'll be peace when you are doooone…"
At some point between classes, he found 10,000 yen on the floor. Then, he discovered he'd won a school raffle for a free lunch voucher, something he didn't even remember entering. And finally, his wallet—mysteriously—had more money than it did at the start of the day.
Golden Rule: Rank EX.
It was like playing The Sims with all the cheats enabled but trying to act like a normal citizen to avoid being deleted by the system.
When the lunch bell rang, students poured out of the classrooms like refugees from the war called "first period." Shouts, laughter, people running to the cafeteria like it was a Black Friday yakisoba sale.
Kazuya? He got up calmly. As always. Hands in pockets, perfectly messy hair, indifferent gaze.
In the cafeteria, the line was long—except that the moment he arrived, the lunch lady grinned ear to ear and waved him to the front.
"You're the special coupon winner, right? Pick whatever you want, Kazuya-kun!"
"My name's not even on my badge, and it's already a VIP pass…" he thought, accepting the tray with ease.
He chose a bento worthy of an isekai hero: perfectly molded rice, grilled meat cooked to perfection, vegetables arranged with the aesthetic of a morning show chef. If someone made a culinary anime now, they'd use this dish as a reference.
With food in hand, Kazuya sat at a more secluded table by the window. The classic main character spot. View of the courtyard, light filtering through the tree leaves, the perfect setting to philosophize about life or plan the next gacha pull.
He picked up his chopsticks calmly, took the first bite, and nearly cried with silent emotion.
"This… this is better than any 5-star CE."
Eating leisurely, he maintained his cool Sigma pose while around him, groups of students exchanged glances, whispered, and some girls threw shy looks his way.
But Kazuya just chewed, savoring each bite as if it were his last meal before a war. With his head slightly propped on his hand, eyes half-closed, he thought silently:
"I wasn't thrown into this world just to collect waifus like it's a limited summer event…"
He closed his eyes for a moment. In his mind, visions emerged: of floating castles, ruined kingdoms, holy wars, and magical apocalypses. Of iconic figures, both heroes and villains, who shaped stories.
He wanted to be like them.
Or surpass them.
"I want the charisma of a Lelouch, the thousand-step plan of an Aizen, the presence of a Gilgamesh, the glorious obsession of a Light Yagami… But also the courage of a Kamina, the determination of a Deku, the functional insanity of an Okabe Rintarou, and the idiotic—yet unbreakable—heart of a Luffy."
Kazuya gave a faint smile, remembering his life as Ritsuka Fujimaru. Someone who saved the world countless times, not because he was strong, or clever, or destined.
But because no one else could.
Because if he didn't do it, no one would.
He remembered looking into the eyes of desperate Servants, touching hands that belonged to legends and myths. Facing gods, beasts, and collapsing realities. And deep down, even after surviving all that… there was loneliness. Because, in the end, Ritsuka was just a human trying to fix everything.
Kazuya let out a soft sigh, watching his classmates laugh and chat.
Normal people.
Normal lives.
And then came the contrast.
His past life.
The life before Ritsuka. Before DxD, before everything.
A failure.
A spectator of his own existence.
The kind of guy who went unnoticed, who gave up before trying, who only dreamed of doing something great but never took the first step.
Until the chance appeared, his rebirth.
Kazuya gripped his chopsticks tighter.
"I have power now. Knowledge. Servants. Direct contact with entities that shaped eras of history with a sigh. And if I'm just another waifu collector, a standard route protagonist… all of this will have been for nothing."
No.
He didn't want to be like Cao Cao. The kind of "hero" who smiled while manipulating lives like chess pieces. Who claimed to fight for humanity while sacrificing it for a twisted ideal.
"Cao Cao was a hypocrite… I'm not." He murmured…
The music in his mind shifted.
It left the classic rock of a Supernatural opening and became something more epic. Something for a shonen arc finale.
A Latin choir, maybe? Violins in crescendo? The kind of track that plays when the protagonist declares their purpose in front of a sunset?
Kazuya finished his meal with a final sip of water and wiped his mouth calmly. Inside, a decision was etched:
"I'll protect the people who deserve to be protected. Like Ritsuka would. Like I never could before. But at the same time, I'll be free and do what I want. I won't let humans be cattle, irrelevant to the point of having no control over their own life or death in the eyes of other supernatural creatures."
He would do it. That was the decision he made at that moment.
Well, that could wait. He still had a few minutes of lunch break to enjoy.
But unfortunately, lunch ended faster than a limited banner disappearing when you finally scrape together 30 Saint Quartz.
Kazuya wiped his lips with a napkin and stared at his empty tray as if it had revealed a dark secret of existence.
"Goodbye, today's meal… you'll be remembered." He murmured with reverence before standing and heading to the trash with almost ceremonial steps.
The Kuoh Academy cafeteria was filled with voices and energy—and, of course, curious (and veiledly jealous) glances directed at him.
Back in the classroom, he sank into his desk with the sigh of a post-war hero. The afternoon classes passed in a slow sequence of slides, explanations, and words floating in the air like summons with no results.
Math. Literature. History.
"Who invented history? Someone who clearly never had to talk to a Roman General and a samurai on the same day."
During science, he nearly fell asleep, daydreaming about Ishtar trying to fit inside a fridge because it was a "modern summoning artifact."
The class ended at three p.m. sharp—the bell sounded more like an RPG's "Continue?"
Kazuya stretched, extending his arms with a yawn worthy of a bear transitioning to winter. Most students started moving, and he did the same, grabbing his backpack as if it were his personal school survival grimoire.
"Another day conquered… no explosions, demonic possessions, or God Hand. Victory." He murmured, leaving the classroom.
The afternoon sun bathed the school corridors in that golden glow typical of an anime about to transition to an emotionally significant moment.
Kazuya walked toward the school gates, discreetly ignoring waves and curious looks. His destination?
A real estate agency.
It was time to find a new home.
One with reinforced walls.