Sometimes The Light At The End Of The Tunnel Is An Oncoming Train [DxD / Celestial Dojo SI]

BlueHelix · Jul 5, 2026

CHAPTER ONE: MONKEY SEE, MONKEY DO

It's easy to miss the scent of smoke when you're busy dealing with sewage coming out of your drains. That's the only explanation I can have for missing the fact that I was in a fictional universe for about two decades, but if you would forgive me for saying this, the smell of rot in Japan was very strong.

Not literally, to be exact — for the most part, even in my "hometown" of Shinjuku-ku, people were pretty fastidious about managing garbage. The public trash cans may have been removed after the sarin attacks by Aum Shinrikyo back in 1995, but that simply meant that people took their garbage home to dispose of it there. No, it was more of the fact that it was arguable that Japan had never recovered from the Lost Decade, and the popping of the Bubble Economy that had caused it, even well into 30 years afterward in my other life.

Ah, my other life? That probably deserves some explanation — I should probably introduce myself properly. My name's Aizome Haru, named for the season when I was given over to the orphanage, and gifted the family name by the nun who had apparently found me. In terms of likes and dislikes, dreams, and interesting facts, I like the color blue and dislike bitter melon, my dream before today was to be able to own an affordable home, and I have memories of a past life when there was a light novel series about a boy with a dragon encased in his left arm saved the world with the power of boobs.

The boy possibly had doomed the world to an extradimensional invasion through summoning the literal goddess of boobs, but one step at a time first, right?

The day I realized that I had significantly larger problems than praying that I wouldn't get employed by a black company when I graduated — or in fact, got employed at all, I had a strange dream that I faintly thought was Kung Fu Panda. Despite the film not coming out yet for at least couple more years, it was incredibly vivid, with the martial arts practiced by the animals seeming for some reason to my dream-self to be rather practical. Strange dreams were a dime a dozen to anyone though, so as I woke up to the chirping of birds outside and a pounding headache, I put it out of my mind. Rubbing my eyes with my left hand, I reached out with my right to my nightstand, flipping open my cell phone.

5:47. Too early to be happy about beating the alarm clock, but late enough that I didn't want to waste my time trying to fall asleep again only to have to get up at 7 to get to classes.

Putting on my glasses, the one thing that had followed me across universes, apparently, I fumbled around my room, getting ready for the day. It was a bare place, but given that I had moved in just a week or two ago, it wasn't the worst I could be. I had scrounged together enough home goods to make things livable, and frankly the room was small enough that additional furniture was out of the question. All things said, after folding up my futon and stowing it away, there was enough floor space to actually move about, which combined with a functional enough kitchen, was something to be thankful for. I hadn't experienced this kind of luxury in close to two decades, and as I prepared my relatively quick breakfast of a microwaved potato with toppings (don't knock it until you've tried it), I couldn't help but reminisce.

As much as the orphanage, or the "children's home," had tried its best and I was thankful for it, they had been desperately over capacity due to circumstances beyond their control. Despite what the term "orphanage" might typically bring up, most of the children stuck in homes weren't actually orphans these days — something like only one in ten were, the government caseworker I had asked about it in their last visit had told me. Maybe circumstances were different before "the times," but no, most children who were in my lovely second homeland's pleasantly euphemistic "alternative care" system had been placed there for their own safety. The reasons for it ranged vast and far, from domestic violence to parental drug abuse, but a steadily rising portion of them had been because their parents were no longer financially capable of taking care of them.

Some of them hadn't even been removed by the government — quite a few had been placed there by their parents, preemptively given up. A few were promised that they would be taken back one day. Fewer still were even visited by their parents. Any amount of frustration or resentment I could have had about being unfortunate enough to be reborn without a family had well and thoroughly died there — as overworked as the institution I had been in, they at least tried, which was far more than I could have hoped for, growing up in the aftershocks of the Bubble. It wasn't like I was ever going to be adopted, considering the circumstances — sometimes people would come by to pick up some of the children, but it was for transferring to another facility for one reason or another.

Given everything, my second childhood was mostly a blur. Wake up, go to school, help with chores, and study, study, study. Study to get into a good high school and college, study in order to get a good job, study in order to be a proper functional Japanese citizen. Being an orphan alone would have hurt my prospects — nepotism hire who? — but not getting into even a mid-tier college would have been murderous on my ability to get employed in a place where I could actually have a career.

Even obtaining a part-time job was a pretty difficult endeavor for me back in high school — because while ordinarily finding some kind of trivial job for pocket change wasn't that difficult, from what adults who had remembered what life was like before "the times" had told me, I wasn't just competing with my fellow teenagers who wanted to get some extra change to save up for some manga or a video game. No, I had been competing with entire generations of graduates who had no job offerings open to them, and had thus become "freeters." I was lucky enough to be able to swing a few positions through the help of the priests and nuns at the orphanage, and to be able to continue that into university, but—

—ah, the microwave had finished steaming the potato. It was time to eat and get going.

Despite all the issues of living in Tokyo, being able to move around wasn't that much of an issue. Being able to move from the center of Shinjuku-ku to Sophia University was about half an hour thanks to the wonders of being able to traverse city traffic with a bicycle. It would've been quicker if I took the subway, but recently the subways weren't feeling exactly safe and suicides involving the trains, politely known as "railway personal injury accidents" or less politely "human accidents" were up. So for the sake of my physical and mental health, as well as saving a miniscule amount of yen, I chose to keep on biking — I needed the cardio anyway. Like most things in this life, I bought it used for a couple of thousand yen. One of the middle-aged men at the local parish wanted to supposedly get rid of it because he was moving out to the country, and had basically given it away to me. It was a lightweight foldable one too, so it was beyond a steal, so I politely ignored the fact that a bike would get even more use out in the country and accepted it with a smile. What else could I do?

Sophia University wasn't something one would expect for someone who had examined my financial position, as since it was a frankly prestigious private research university, it would quite normally be something out of my reach. An orphan didn't exactly have the money to pay for juku — cram school, much less the tuition of a private university. While top tier universities like Tokyo Tech, or even worse one of the "Imperial Universities" like the University of Tokyo would've been absurd to even dream of, with the reorganization of Tokyo Metropolitan University I figured I would've had a good chance of getting in. It was one of my top choices in fact, and I had been preparing to set my savings ablaze and began working out the logistics of finding more part-time work to cover the costs, while hoping that I could somehow acquire a good enough scholarship.

However, even as subsidized as the public universities were, they couldn't compare to "free" — and while I didn't have many advantages in life beyond my previous life's memories, the one thing I did have was being raised in a Catholic orphanage, and Sophia University was a Catholic university. Apparently between my academics, scores on the entrance exam, and my background, I qualified for quite the scholarship, complete with a housing stipend. When the sisters at the orphanage presented me with the documents, I had just about burst into tears.

Despite my gratefulness, as I rode towards the University's grounds, I couldn't help but feel a little bit out of place. The University was built in Chiyoda-ku, and this place was ritzy as all get out. The Imperial Palace was placed at the Ward's center, and a significant portion of government institutions were here as well, and the place looked the part — if Tokyo was akin to New York City, then this place would be Manhattan, the financial and political center of the city.

Correspondingly, as soon as I had entered the Ward, the population density dropped significantly, making biking through the roads a relative breeze from what I had traversed earlier, and I took the opportunity to see the sights. If I had to wake up so early, I might as well make the most of it. Yotsuya was quite the urban neighborhood, but now that I was looking, I noticed there were an awful lot of animals going about. While stray dogs were incredibly rare due to rabies legislation, although I had seen a few, cats were walking all around, which kind of made the amount of birds singing in the area pretty unusual. I swore I had heard something about a lot of stray cats would always lead to a decimation of the population.

As I saw a cat leap to the top of a fence, an errant thought filled my mind—

"Huh, I could do that."

A quick series of images flickered through my head. I couldn't exactly replicate how a cat's 30 vertebrae coiled to provide the high speed velocity through the air, nor did I have the comparatively much larger plantaris muscle that cats had, and the square-cube law was a killer, but the unison of form in explosiveness was interesting as a thought exercise.

So interesting, in fact that I nearly ran a red light. Did I really spend that long on how to figure out how to jump like a cat…? The tyranny of biology and physics was eternal, and while I was fit, my conditioning wasn't exactly up to the task of a hands-free standing jump over a fence. Shaking my head and banishing any other thoughts of sightseeing, I focused on the trip to classes — it was still syllabus week, but being late to class so early, especially as a scholarship student, would be a terrible first impression.

Classes were as expected, a breeze — these were at most introductory university courses, the ones that in a past life I'd skipped over, and frankly even then things wouldn't get the ball rolling until after this week when introductions were finished. Unlike my previous life however, I actually did read the syllabi properly and resolved to actually make use of office hours. Aside from the academic benefits, connections were everything in this hell of a frozen economy, and being the student who actually showed up to office hours might actually give me a chance.

After sharing my email with my classmates, which had filled me with a touch of confusion back in high school because I could have sworn LINE was supposed to be the popular messaging app in Asia before realizing that this was probably before it was invented, I hopped onto my bike to head toward my first part-time job. However,as I headed out back to Yasukuni-dori, a pretty direct path between Shinjuku and Chiyoda, something else caught my eye. This time though, it wasn't the miracle of feline biomechanics. No, it was something much stranger — a group of people my age in clerical garments and habits were rushing off into the distance, led by someone who probably should have been a lot slower than them but somehow wasn't, albeit thankfully not in the same direction I was. Getting the strong feeling that I was seeing something that I wasn't supposed to, I mentally filed it away under the evergreen reasoning of not my monkeys, not my circus.

I probably should have paid more attention considering future events, in my defense, I didn't exactly have a great sense of overall precise directionality. While I knew my way around the city in the sense of how to get from Point A to Point B, I hadn't really charted out Chiyoda-ku in the context with my usual haunts just yet. If I did, I probably would've realized that they were heading off in the same direction as where I worked and maybe called off that day.

Actually no, I needed the money for groceries, so maybe not.

The great thing about working in a small family restaurant is that no one's using cocaine. Well, considering drug penalties were extremely severe in Japan, it was probably a lot less common compared to say, the States, but it was still a pretty big plus — I remember a friend of mine telling me about being offered a line by her sous chef, albeit she was Canadian. That didn't mean there was no drug use though, just ones a whole lot less verboten to the public. One of the many things people got blinded by nostalgia for the 2000s forgot was that people just smoked so damn much, and a "smoking section" only split off from the rest of the restaurant by a plexiglass divider was both a joke and sadly common.

Still, the pay was acceptable, and "family meal," such as it was, was fantastic — free food forgave a lot of sins, and the cook, my boss Sakamoto-san made a killer chicken katsu curry. So good that it quieted the buzzing in my brain enough that I almost forgot how off the day had been until my shift ended, when he stopped to talk to me before I left.

"Ah, Aizome-kun, one moment," he called out, his voice strangely not quite as jovial as it usually was, which was pretty unusual. There weren't as many customers as usual around, but it was also pretty late in the evening — we weren't that close to Shinjuku Station, but we still had a pretty nasty dinner rush. "I've got something for you, but I forgot to give it to you earlier."

"Something for me?" I responded, a bit bewildered. I finished putting away the plates I was drying off and wiped my hands. "What do you mean? Did I forget something here at my last shift?"

"Oh, nothing like that," he answered. To my confusion, he pulled out an embroidered silk pouch. An omamori…? "It's actually not something from me, but one of the miko from the local shrine had actually come by here during lunch asking if we could hand these out to anyone who worked late. Didn't give much of an explanation, but at least it looks nice, doesn't it?"

"Well, um, thank you. It definitely does," I replied bemusedly as I accepted the talisman. I wasn't lying either, it almost felt like it was handmade compared to the typical omamori I saw prepared for tourists at gift shops or the like. It felt kind of heavy too, which made me curious, but I chose not to satisfy it — you weren't supposed to open the pouches, or else you would "release" the spiritual power. "Specifically for anyone who worked late, huh? Has there been anything going on here when it's that late…?"

It was kind of a stupid question — this was Shinjuku. We weren't exactly in red-light district Kabukicho, I wasn't that desperate for work that I'd spend any more time around the yakuza than I'd have to, but it wasn't like we were far away from it either. Still, for a miko to drop by around here in this time of the year and for that specific purpose made me feel that this wasn't some kind of advertisement, especially with a talisman this nice. Setsubun was a couple of weeks ago, and while Golden Week was going to be in a few more, the timing felt off.

My boss only responded with a shrug. "Nothing beyond the usual, you know? People move in, people move out, there's been a lot of new faces, but that's all."

The city government had been making a pretty strong push to make housing more affordable and available, it was one of the few reasons I could actually afford my own apartment, however cramped. Still, something felt off about the situation. That being said, it wasn't like there was much I could do with a feeling as vague as that.
"Well, at least that's good for business, no?" I said, mentally shrugging. I tied the talisman to my bag and put it on.

He chuckled. "That's right, that's right. See you tomorrow, Aizome-kun. Good night."

"Good night, Sakamoto-san," I replied with a smile, and left the warmth and the light of the restaurant to pedal into the neon-lit chiaroscuro of Shinjuku.

The thing about supernatural events, or most natural disasters in fact, is that most people who aren't horror movie victims don't tend to seek them out. We rather like to avoid them, in fact! When someone hears a weird noise, or sees a strange shape, or even has the hair raise on their neck for no particular reason, they rightfully want to get the fuck out of there, and the same went for me when I noticed the lights flickering out as I pedaled down the alleys back to my apartment.

Unfortunately for me, by the time you see something going wrong, it's typically too late to cleanly escape.

"I l-l-loooove you d-d-daaaaaarling…"

A cold gust of wind was the only warning I had to swerve hard left. Years of handling Tokyo traffic saved my second life as an amorphous mass sped downhill on my right, overshooting my position considerably. Slamming hard on my brakes, the dust settled as I came to a stop, giving me a fantastic view of what had almost killed me.

"Nope, nope, nope!" I immediately began backing away, trying to run back up the hill with the bike in tow so I could hit the flat road past.

What greeted my eyes appeared to be nothing else but a monster. As the lights continued to flicker and fade, the ghostly glow of the creature made its form more and more visible — a crouching, humanoid figure. Clothed in tattered rags that resembled a business suit, the ghost rocked back and forth like it was talking to itself. Tragically for both it and myself, it seemed that it wasn't satisfied with itself as company, and turned around to leap at me.

"W-w-where are you d-d-daaaaaarling…!"

With a feat of strength I didn't know I had, I immediately hurled my bike at the ghost. Unfortunately for me, it was a ghost, and so my precious 21-speed sailed right through the ectoplasm or whatever the hell made up the creature's body. Cursing under my breath, I fell flat like a cat, the ghost sailing over me like a sugar glider on crack.

Getting up with an ease I absolutely didn't have a day ago, I got a look at the beast's front now. Hearteningly, it didn't look like it was doing well — it appeared the facsimile of a suit it wore was in tatters for a reason. While its back seemed to be unharmed from a distance, its front wasn't so lucky, covered in slash wounds and pockmarked with burns. One of its limbs oddly from its side, with a few of its fingers appearing to be missing. Most importantly, half of its "face" appeared to be gone, the mask severed in half neatly, leaving only half of a depiction of a person's face in anguish painted on snow-white bone.

Not so hearteningly, however, was the cavernous void of its face, now visible due to its facial disfigurement, and the fact that wounded as it was, it was still preparing to attack me. Typically, predators are not the brave, bold rulers of the wild so commonly depicted in fiction. No, they're cowards, or at least — as they hunted for their food, they had to measure the cost of actually engaging with the hunt with whatever reserves of energy they had, as well as the risks of a failed hunt. A single wound could potentially lead to death — it wasn't like wild animals or ghosts had antibiotics to deal with infections. Or at least I hoped they didn't.

What that meant, of course, was that down one limb, half its face, and covered in wounds, the beast in front of me thought that it had a close to 100% chance of success in eating me, or was so desperate for food to recover that it was willing to spend itself entirely to kill me, and considering how fast it was, I gave the beast top marks on its mathematical skills. I probably wouldn't be able to run or hide.

The thing about a prey animal, in contrast to a predator, is that in a fight, it doesn't give a fuck. If it loses, it doesn't lose out on a meal. It loses out on a being able to actually live. If a predator is a coward, then prey must be courageous, for if it cannot run or hide, then it had only one option, the same option that was left to me.

"Hah… what a pain in the ass." I dropped my bag, but not before palming a certain pouch. I might be raised by a bunch of nuns, but that miko must have been passing around these for this reason, right? It's not like I had any better choices. "Well, it is what it is."

You know what though — a prayer to St. Michael wouldn't hurt either, might as well. Would be a bit of a waste memorizing all of those prayers at the pain of a ruler on my knuckles if I didn't use them when an actual evil spirit showed up in front of me. St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle—

Fight.

It was like a demented game of battleship, except that both of us could see each other in this shadowed alley. It tried to predict where I would be. I would try to predict where it would leap. Unfortunately, I had to be right every single time. It, on the other hand, only had to land in the right spot once before I went splat.

Well, it wasn't like I was every a graceful loser at board game night, anyhow.

"D-D-D-AAAARLIIIIIING!!"

The beast crashed into the wall where I was, wailing louder and louder, as was its wont. I coughed from the dust as I rolled away and kipped up, the now familiar event raising even more questions. Why did the ghost actually have physical damage landing into the wall, but my bike phase through? More importantly, where the fuck was everyone? Anyone? Was no one hearing the noise from this thing tearing up the street? More importantly where the hell were the people that hurt this thing so bad?

"I'M HOOOOOOOME, DAAAAAAAAARLING!!"

I jumped to the side again, my hands grasping a pole and flinging myself further down the street. Maybe it was for the best I had stared at those cats so long this morning, because the ideas I had bullshitted from watching them were the only things keeping me alive.

Moving with catlike grace, I worked my way to another area the ghost hadn't quite wrecked yet. Time was ticking down for the both of us. On one hand, my mobility rather relied on clear and easy traversal for a human, whilst the beast was doing just fine jumping through rubble. On the other, this goddamn hungry ghost was making so much noise that someone would hear it eventually, and in the meantime hopefully expending a shitload of energy with its wounds.

—but if it was burning energy, so was I. This demented game of cat and mouse had been going on for a while, and I didn't know how much longer it would go. How long I could go. There was a limited amount of space I could go to, and the ghost was intelligent enough that it knew that too. Realistically speaking, I had, one or two more evasive maneuvers I could execute.

Which meant it was now or never.

I clambered up the wall, my fingers and limbs channeling the ability for cats to walk on the smallest ledge. Carefully making my way up, I positioned myself carefully in order to carry out the stupidest plan possible. Taking the omamori out of my palm, I carefully wrapped it around my knuckles.

Right on time, the beast emerged. But this time, it looked different. Its wounds remained, one of its limbs remained crippled, but its mask… its mask had changed. The face it depicted was no longer anguished — instead, it was smiling.

Was it strong enough to kill me from the start, and was it no longer playing cat or mouse? Or was it like I hoped, and finally happy that I had grown desperate enough to climb up — up enough that I wouldn't be able to evade it like I had, as I couldn't push off things in the air?

It didn't matter. Either way, it was time to finish things.

"THERE YOU ARE, DARLING!!"

It leapt. I jumped.

It opened its mouth. I swung my fist.

And as the omamori made contact with the bone of its mask, something, somehow, unwound in my heart, my mind, my soul, and everything became so very, very, bright—

For an eternity and a moment, I dreamed. And as I dreamed, I bore witness. I was taught and learned. And so I became—.

I was a boy, learning how to fight from my father—

I was a man, crawling like a dog to move faster and faster—

I was a Saint — King — Emperor

I was the North God, cutting down the Demon King with my comrades—

I was the North God, cutting down the Dragon King with Incurable Wounds—

I was the North God, cutting down the Dead End with Kajakut—

—Aizome Haru, the newest practitioner of North God Style. And like those who came before me, I would be victorious, no matter what.

I came to, and I saw my enemy before me.

"...d-d-darling?"

I walked over to the beast, and saw that its had been further broken, leaving only what was its "mouth" still intact. Somehow, that was enough for it to still speak.

"W-w-why can't I s-s-see you?"

That didn't matter though. What did matter was that it couldn't see me, and hadn't heard me either as I walked over with catlike steps.

"I-i-it hurts. It wasn't supposed to h-h-hurt-"

I gathered my newly unlocked Battle Aura, and grasped victory.

Those who know me, please don't read this. This is not a place of honor. Those who don't know me, I'm sorry.

Anyhow, yeah, this is a slightly modified Celestial Dojo. Standard 100 points every 2000 words, but the MC has no choice -- either autobuy, or instantly dropped if they can't afford it and they bank the points. They don't really view this as a System thing either because it's easier for me to write up so they mostly instinctively grasp things, save for proper techniques and stuff so they actually know things by vibes.

In any case, here's the rolls of this chapter (I gave MC-kun a perk for free at the start so the ball would start rolling immediately):

Animalistic Incorporation ~~200 CP~~ Free
As a delinquent you are less bound to the hard and fast rules of traditional martial arts styles. Using animals you have observed as an inspiration, you are able to incorporate their naturalistic movements into your style. While you will not have the strength of the animals observed, your motions will be more efficient through mimicking them, and new techniques may be derived from their actions (i.e. incorporating the movement of cats would make a martial art more acrobatic, while incorporating the movements of a mantis would add sudden precise strikes to it repertoire). Source: History's Strongest Disciple Kenichi, Chapter: Talent

~~Latent Talent - 200 CP~~
While hard work can allow one to surpass their limits, talent can still help. For example, if similar individuals train the same amount the highly one would greatly surpass their partner. Luckily for you, you've been blessed with an immense amount of talent. You will find that you will learn and grow at rate dozens of times faster than others. This perk will affect any form of learning or training you undertake. Just remember you still need time to actually develop your skills. ~~Source: Dragon Ball, Chapter: Talent~~

North God Style - 200 CP
A style that extends outside standard combat. North God Style focuses on utility, sneak attacks, psychology, and escape as ways of achieving victory. Users often pick their battles carefully or make use of strange techniques like swordplay that shines light in an enemy's eyes, bluffing during combat, or coating weapons with poison. Users are quite effective at making it past the defenses of a Water God user but can have trouble keeping up with the techniques of a Sword God style user. Source: Mushoku Tensei, Chapter: Martial Art

Thanks for reading, see you next time.

To-be-hero-X · Jul 5, 2026

Ngl I love celestial dojo path of throwing hands or swordmaxxing etc etc better than magic or building macha

BlueHelix said:
Animalistic Incorporation ~~200 CP~~ Free
As a delinquent you are less bound to the hard and fast rules of traditional martial arts styles. Using animals you have observed as an inspiration, you are able to incorporate their naturalistic movements into your style. While you will not have the strength of the animals observed, your motions will be more efficient through mimicking them, and new techniques may be derived from their actions (i.e. incorporating the movement of cats would make a martial art more acrobatic, while incorporating the movements of a mantis would add sudden precise strikes to it repertoire). Source: History's Strongest Disciple Kenichi, Chapter: Talent

BlueHelix said:
North God Style - 200 CP
A style that extends outside standard combat. North God Style focuses on utility, sneak attacks, psychology, and escape as ways of achieving victory. Users often pick their battles carefully or make use of strange techniques like swordplay that shines light in an enemy's eyes, bluffing during combat, or coating weapons with poison. Users are quite effective at making it past the defenses of a Water God user but can have trouble keeping up with the techniques of a Sword God style user. Source: Mushoku Tensei, Chapter: Martial Art

Yup path of throwing hands and swordmaxxing

justicu've · Jul 5, 2026

Im wondering how battle Aura work with touki

vggooi · Jul 5, 2026

justicu've said:
Im wondering how battle Aura work with touki

Wiki says one uses mana and the other uses "base of life", both have same meaning of "battle spirit". Basically it's using energy for coating or enshrouding the whole body. While there is no theoretical hard cap for touki in DxD, the highest level is God Rank in Mushoku Tensei which is limited to your biological capacity for internal mana. It's difficult to power scale if you're aiming for lore accuracy, but both are still crazy level of power if trained to top limits

Nicohals J Westerberg · Jul 5, 2026

Hope to see this continues, it's off to a great start!

shadyshadow_1776 · Monday at 3:44 AM

BlueHelix said:
I had a strange dream that I faintly thought was Kung Fu Panda

BlueHelix said:
Animalistic Incorporation

I was really hoping he actually got Kung fu Panda martial arts I was waiting for him to put some poor bastard of a demon in the wuxi finger hold and send them the super hell

GlassesLion · Tuesday at 1:25 PM

BlueHelix said:
"I l-l-loooove you d-d-daaaaaarling…"

BlueHelix said:
"W-w-where are you d-d-daaaaaarling…!"

BlueHelix said:
"D-D-D-AAAARLIIIIIING!!"

BlueHelix said:
"I'M HOOOOOOOME, DAAAAAAAAARLING!!"

BlueHelix said:
"THERE YOU ARE, DARLING!!"

Man, is this guy getting hunted down by a yandere part animal ghost because he looks like her former lover or some crap? This is so fucked.

Well, considering how apparently out of it the ghost/youkai/whatever the fuck this was seemed to be and the mention of strays in this setting, its probably just a stray devil that somehow can become intangible going insane but that doesnt make it better.

It's is an amazingly creepy first opponent to have either way tho.

RookDeSuit · Wednesday at 4:48 AM

GlassesLion said:
Man, is this guy getting hunted down by a yandere part animal ghost because he looks like her former lover or some crap? This is so fucked.

And she probably died by a different Yokai, so this is just extending a cycle of violence.

ObsidianNoir · Friday at 9:31 AM

To-be-hero-X said:
Ngl I love celestial dojo path of throwing hands or swordmaxxing etc etc better than magic or building macha

Yup path of throwing hands and swordmaxxing

Ironically enough North God is the "anything else" style compared to speed blitz offense Sword God and Counter/Redirection water God

For the story itself it is funny how bro been busy staying alive in the fucked economy of Japan and misses the signs of exorcists from the church and mikos handing out charms due to increased youkai activity

Considering youkai usually feed off fear I wonder if the current bad economy is adding to the fire

NemoMarx · Friday at 4:09 PM

Is the extra housing subsidy thing historical, or could that be someone trying to keep people off the street so they don't feed the local ghosts? I don't know enough about 08 era Japan to be sure.

BlueHelix · Friday at 7:57 PM

Genuinely mindboggling to see any level of response to this fic, uh, wow. Full disclosure this is writing practice for me and I deliberately published it in SFW QQ so my friends wouldn't find it and that less people would see it, but uh, I guess the cat is thoroughly out of the bag, lol

Responding from my phone so things will be a bit short

justicu've said:
Im wondering how battle Aura work with touki

It works, but as the poster below you states, despite how Battle Aura is fundamentally just the manipulation of your internal mana, vis a vis the utilization of the actual literal life force or ki that DxD Touki does

For the purposes of this fic, the internal mana of the protagonist is linked to a degree to their health and life force in the sense that overuse causes mana exhaustion which can be recovered from with rest and nutrition, but they otherwise are separate but can stack

In terms of the protagonist's capabilities with North God Style, they're very much an amateur but have the ability to actually train to use North God Style to the fullest, which includes knowledge of all its various styles up to Incurable Wounds — Kalman II's technique described in the semi-canonical prequel Subjugation of the Dragon King that he used to kill immortals

Which means they do have the biological mana potential to reach God tier despite not rolling the perk of Battle Aura, just uh, it'll take awhile unless the Dojo fucks my plans. Same with the skill — they can train to get to a certain level, they have the skill book downloaded in their brain, but it's ultimately limited to what muscle memory they beat into themselves and what they can train with their mana. At the moment, I'd call them a Low Class combatant who can punch to Mid Class given some time to prepare

Sorry for all the vagaries lol, this is all I can do because I went and looked at the jumpchain this perk was supposed to come with and it wasn't fucking even in there, so like, I work with what I got. The big thing they're lacking from not having the perk is that they can't grant Battle Aura to others who cannot awaken to magic and sure as shit don't have Laplace Factor, albeit since I'm flavoring things that the mana system the MC has is what DxD humans have (there is zero clarity if DxD humans even use "internal mana" or "external mana" like how Devils use Demonic Power) they're not strictly limited like how canonical Mushoku Tensei fighters are.

GlassesLion said:
Man, is this guy getting hunted down by a yandere part animal ghost because he looks like her former lover or some crap? This is so fucked.

Well, considering how apparently out of it the ghost/youkai/whatever the fuck this was seemed to be and the mention of strays in this setting, its probably just a stray devil that somehow can become intangible going insane but that doesnt make it better.

It's is an amazingly creepy first opponent to have either way tho.

RookDeSuit said:
And she probably died by a different Yokai, so this is just extending a cycle of violence.

Kind of close but also far at the same time? I think I'll explain what happened in a chapter or two, but you could say that the MC's hot date of the night was missing its other half, in multiple senses of the word

You could honestly say it was a quarter of itself, lol

ObsidianNoir said:
Ironically enough North God is the "anything else" style compared to speed blitz offense Sword God and Counter/Redirection water God

For the story itself it is funny how bro been busy staying alive in the fucked economy of Japan and misses the signs of exorcists from the church and mikos handing out charms due to increased youkai activity

Considering youkai usually feed off fear I wonder if the current bad economy is adding to the fire

It's very, very bleak, and you're hitting on part of why Tokyo is pretty fucked at the moment. It doesn't help that the Five Principle Clans are so hilariously braindead that they reject Sacred Gear users entirely (creating the Utsutsemi Agency) and also just have zero consistency of their enforcement of the ban of "non-Shinto" practices — the Himejima banished Ageha for using Buddhist practices, but like the Nakiri apparently use Shugendō and Onmyōdō which is at least partially influenced by Chinese Daoism and the Shinra apparently just flat out use Buddhist techniques and Onmyōdō too, so like, lol

Maybe they're pissy because they don't really actually have any real control over the country tbh in broad scopes — Kyoto is literally run by Nurarihyon and Yasaka supposed cooperation notwithstanding, both the Devils and the Church have bases in their country — it's really bold that they had the balls to kill Shuri in that light, I guess. Or maybe the Fallen don't have as big of a base, but then the Grigori picked up Slash/Dog. I guess they're lucky Tobio helped push the reform with them with Suzaku Himejima or something like that, but like the Nakiri's head sister mysteriously lost Telos Karma and another guy showed up with it in the Azazel Cup I think alongside Innovate Clear, so that's not a great indicator of their like… anything.

But make no mistake for the MC they're still a pretty beastly threat if they do come to odds for whatever reason, at least for now

NemoMarx said:
Is the extra housing subsidy thing historical, or could that be someone trying to keep people off the street so they don't feed the local ghosts? I don't know enough about 08 era Japan to be sure.

It depends on what you're asking! The way I'm flavoring the housing subsidy is just a generic orphan and academic scholarship, there's multiple programs for the former. It's pretty bleak for orphans though, something like 2% ever do higher education and 10% ever do anything like junior college or trade school — MC was lucky in a sense between having the advantage of a previous lifetime that they could bridge the gap even when not being able to attend extracurricular education and other activities in favor of working actual jobs, which is always not looked upon favorably for high schoolers, haha.

In terms of Shinjuku actually being more affordable though, that is actually 100% historical and I wouldn't be surprised if there's actual some subsidization going on in the 2000s - the big thing was back in 2002 Japan was like "wow! Housing is fucked!" And passed the Urban Renaissance Law, pulling permissions from towns and municipalities and simplifying zoning and such, as well as extreme permissiveness for developments. Add that to the bubble bursting, the "seediness" of Shinjuku (Kabukicho of Yakuza fame and all that), and older buildings and housing is pretty accessible even for a relative brokie like our MC

Knocking down old buildings and reblessing them is probably a good idea for preventing the continuance of jibakurei

There is outreach and it does help, but the huge issue is this very big sense of shame that's risen up with the rise of the bubble — a lot of fresh college grads and perhaps more roughly a lot of salarymen and old folks are out in the streets with "hidden homelessness," is what I think the phrase was? The net café refugee exploded in this era, albeit I'm still not super firm on what year this story is taking place but it's between Slash/Dog's start date and DxD proper, so somewhere between 2004-2007.

But it made it really hard for outreach to actually reach those who needed it because the bureaucracy was hard and also a lot of people would prefer to work rather than get "handouts," you see a lot of that with trash collection and scrap material gathering, if they're not "freeters" and so on.

But there is no universal governmental housing subsidy that the MC is benefiting from at the moment, although they are benefiting from their policies with regards to housing prices and some scholarship funds.

Edit: something I forgot to say is that 2008 itself was actually a huge trigger on Tokyo evolving their welfare system — with the spike of claims by working age poor in comparison to the elderly, they revamped a lot of stuff, and continued to reform that when they tried to work on child poverty and all that a few years later. Unfortunately for the MC and their childhood that's still a decade or so in the future, to my understanding

Sorry for the sidebar lol — update either tonight or tomorrow night, even if it's mostly a transitory chapter. I've been trying to practice about 500 words a night minimum (my supposed base goal was 200-300 words but I'm just keeping my expectations low to make myself feel better) and chapters are gonna be around 3000-5000 words, so I'll see if I can sustainably do weekly updates even while working 40 hours a week haha…

BlueHelix · 2026-07-12T04:52:51+0100

CHAPTER TWO: SUDDENLY, ONE DAY

It may not surprise anyone with an awareness of the implications of how big pet cafés were in Japan or the knowledge that it was the biggest legal market for elephant ivory remaining, but animal rights in Japan was pretty far behind the times. Intellectually, I understood that people didn't care enough about animals to actually make their lives better — the continual legal loopholes for ivory to fuel the demand for traditional biwa or shamisen or simply for the perceived best material for hanko was explanation enough, but I didn't really get it until I went to Ueno Zoo.

Taking advantage of my frontloaded class schedule that day — nothing after third period, but in exchange I had to be up bright and early as was the burden and curse of underclassmen, I decided to fill the gap in time before work with going to the zoo. Cost of attendance was relatively cheap, and miraculously my bicycle hadn't been rendered unusable by my impromptu Ghostbusters performance, so it was easy enough to go. This world's YouTube equivalent hadn't really taken off yet, so I couldn't really harvest it for insights, and in absence of better options to observe exotic animals, Japan's oldest zoo felt like a pretty good consolation prize. Considering how tired I was from a wombo-combo of a full shift of work last night and then getting jumped, I figured that I could recharge from seeing animals while also refining my techniques further — the fact that one of the better movement techniques I could use at the moment involved crawling on all four limbs was kind of hysterical.

As I walked from the Eastern Garden to the Western Garden, doing my best to keep from wincing when moving with judicious use of Battle Aura, I had a pretty sharp suspicion that I probably would have better off finding a place to meditate or slowly practice my forms. While the zoo had been making some strides, the Gorilla Woods and the Penguin Walk to allow for more enrichment for a few animals, frankly most of them were still kept in the old cement and iron enclosures. With a few exceptions like the bird and insect exhibits, there were no insights to be garnered at all — most of the animals were even more miserable than the average Japanese salaryman, and that was saying something. Lacking enrichment or options to do anything they would do in the wild, they spent their day either eating, sleeping, or walking around in circles in a concrete enclosure awaiting something to eat. It was even more depressing to see exhibits where there were only one animal available — the giant panda Ling Ling had been deprived of any other giant pandas to interact with since 2000.

Realistically speaking, most people didn't care enough about animals unless it was personal, this was far from some kind of uniquely Japanese phenomena. Industrialized agriculture had undoubtedly saved billions of lives and made meat available on scales unimaginable to someone a century ago. Production had roughly tripled, and quite a lot of that was built on animals suffering through inhumane conditions but was neatly removed from the public eye for the most part. I supposed it just hit harder for me walking through glitzy Shibuya or glamorous Harajuku and contemplating what happened to "exotic" animals like otters or owls, or even pigs once they grew out of their easily marketable phase.

Or maybe because I had almost been eaten myself last night. That probably wasn't nothing, either, haha. I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts, but I had the feeling that the experience would linger for a long time.

Mood thoroughly shot and time mostly wasted, I walked out of the zoo, contemplating my options. Given the fact that the radio nor the newspapers nor any other news source were announcing the fact that a street was torn up at all with massive craters, not even a thinly veiled excuse of "gas leaks" or whatever was the flavor of the month, there was something keeping things on the down low in Tokyo. Whether it be the government, some sort of supernatural organization maintaining the "masquerade," or a combination of the two or something else, going and talking about this was probably not the smartest of ideas.

Investigating supernatural occurrences was probably going to be a pain in the ass, too. I'd really like to determine what precisely had spawned that ghost on my ass last night, but it wasn't like I could attempt to access recent police or death reports — some countries may have released such things publicly, but Japan had those locked up tight due to various legislation, with the former sealed for decades and the latter limited to those close to the deceased. Probably for good reason, especially if they were covering up supernatural incidents, but that meant that I'd have to be asking around on what spawned that ghost. It sure as hell wasn't the normal kind of yūrei, considering I wasn't insane enough to be biking around the streets of Shinjuku-ku at 2 o'clock in the morning, nor was that hulking beast anything like what yūrei were shown like in the books or movies I had seen when growing up — it wasn't exactly wearing white burial clothing.

For all I knew, it might not even be a ghost in the first place. If I really wanted to find out what was going on in that area, I'd probably need to track down that miko in the first place, and be careful about that too. The omamori was nigh-certainly the difference between life and death for me last night, and although it spoke well of her that she was giving them out at random for anyone who worked late at night, that still meant she was able to give out a significant amount of ghostbusting talismans good enough to lay a ghost like that flat on its ass, even as damaged as it was.

Speaking of damaged, something or someone out there, or possibly multiple someones at that, were strong enough to hurt that beast to the point where it fled in my direction. The newfound memories and skills dumped in my head made me lean toward someones over somethings — the slash wounds felt like sword marks, if ones that could burn the flesh of a ghost. There were any number of possibilities, but my gut instinctively felt that there was some connection with the clerical attire-wearing group at university yesterday. After classes today, I had checked which direction they had been heading, and that corner of Shinjuku was in the general area. But if I could make an educated guess at the miko's character from her giving out the omamori and Sakamoto-san's tacit approval, I had no idea what to even aim to guess at with them. The Church had all types — some good enough to staff children's homes like the one I had grown up in, but I wasn't naive enough to think that would always be the case. If the rampant sexual abuse cases, although those hadn't really blown up yet because the various cover-ups of them, wasn't enough indication of the possible presence of bad actors that could endanger me, then flipping open a history textbook would have more than sufficed. Especially to someone who was… what I was now.

Whatever that was. The skill and power that I had at my fingertips were something I very much did not have before yesterday. Without a doubt they had saved my life from whatever yōkai had come for me that night, but as I reviewed my day yesterday, I had been granted something since I had woken up that morning, the ability to translate animal traits into insights for martial arts techniques. What had prompted that? Was it prompted by anything, or was it pure chance, or was it related to anything else?

After all, hadn't I woken up with memories of another life, all those years ago? From what I remembered from the endless torment of Sunday School classes, Catholicism officially taught that reincarnation didn't exist, as people were destined to only die once, with judgment handed down afterward, but to be honest, Catholic doctrine hadn't prepared me to deal with whatever the hell was happening last night. I was pretty open to other explanations, because going to a normal priest about this would probably sound insane, and I lacked the knowledge to find a priest who was "in the know."

Even then, that didn't disallow the possibility that I was just someone who had received memories of another world, of another time — just like I had with the North God Style. A style that had been created and refined for the sake of doing anything to grasp victory against a Demon king, but had spawned endless variations and lineages. The knowledge in my head would take lifetimes to explore fully, ranging from deplorable things like how to fight with a hostage, noncombat skills like how to camp, cook, and perform first aid, to terrifying techniques like how to cut down an immortal forever.

It was a style that had one philosophy — victory at any cost — but many teachers. Now that I had received memories of more than just one life, there was nothing to say that I wouldn't receive more and more. There was nothing to say that simply existing as I was wouldn't attract more beings, more events, more risks to my life. Was it sheer bad luck that I had been attacked last night instead of the numerous other individuals who had been working late in that area of Shinjuku-ku last night, or had whatever that had been downloading things into my skull made me more attractive of a meal?

Sighing, I wiped at my face with my sleeve. Enough time had been wasted by the trip to the zoo alone, I couldn't exactly afford to spend more of it in my own head rather than doing anything productive. While I sure as hell wasn't excited that someone or something had attached some kind of repository of combat techniques to my head, it had saved my life, and with confirmation that things were lurking in the dark, it was decidedly better to make use of it than to not. I could worry about what was going on with me after I figured out whatever the hell was going on in this city, or really, this world.

I supposed that was that. The miko was my only real lead of what was going on last night that I could realistically pursue that I knew for sure had some level of real knowledge and power. And at the very least, her omamori had saved my life — needing to give thanks for that would be sufficient cause alone for me to seek her out. What a pain, though — in order to do that, I'd have to do what would fill any person who worked for a living with dread.

Go to their workplace early.

Walking into Sakamoto-san's restaurant outside of my usual work hours was a fairly strange experience. I didn't recall the last time I had actually walked in through the front door instead of the staff entrance, and I was pretty certain I had never visited during lunch hours, so my eyes were greeted with something that was more akin to a cafe than the izakaya I was more used to. The eatery was brightly lit, the blinds wide open and the ceiling lights shining in a way I was quite unused to, casting the room in a way that shifted the atmosphere tremendously. Although most of the furniture remained the same, the bar itself had transformed through the simple act of concealing the liquor shelves with functional but still complementary sliding cabinet doors. Most significantly in my opinion, however, was that during the daytime there was no nagashi or busking musician playing — instead, smooth jazz and bold French bossa nova records played on a phonograph I had never seen before.

Instead of immediately trying to get some answers as soon as possible like I had originally wanted to, I let the music wash over me for a couple of minutes. I liked city pop and Shibuya-kei as much as the next person, but there was a limit to how much Mariya Takeuchi I could tolerate, and I hadn't listened to Miles Davis in so long. One of the biggest things I missed from the future was the sheer ease of access to music. Sure, the golden age of music piracy was still alive, since although Napster had fallen a few years back, Limewire had still survived, but I missed being able to look up any kind of music I liked at my leisure. It was what it was, however, and I had spent enough time reminiscing. It was time to get down to brass tacks, and so I waved down Sakamoto-san, who had either somehow not seen me or saw fit to give me some space.

"Aizome-kun, if you were so eager to get to work, you should have let me know!" The jovial older man came over with a smile. Strangely enough, however, it shifted to a frown. "...Haru-san, are you quite alright?"

Ah.

The thing about Battle Aura was that while it boosted defenses and physical ability, what it didn't do was grant a healing factor. So while it kept my arm safe enough to protect it from the detonation of the omamori, it couldn't fix up all the other scrapes from the preceding… events. 'That being said though, although I was still in quite a bit of pain if I jostled myself too much, the foundational advanced technique of North God Style — the ability to adjust aura precisely to how I needed it to be — I both protected my injuries from worsening while easing my physical activities significantly. Although I was far from being able to rapidly fine-tune it during combat to adjust to any and all opponents, given a bit of time and testing it was enough for me to continue to bike around Tokyo.

Nevertheless, I must have looked like quite the sight to my boss. My injuries weren't anything to the point that I couldn't patch myself up with the first-aid kit that I had at home, and literal multiple lifetimes of practice let me take care of my wounds with relative ease, but I supposed showing up anywhere while being visibly bandaged probably was a little worrying.

"Well, ups and down, Sakamoto-san. A bit of a traffic accident happened on my way back home from work, but it looks a lot worse than it actually is, and a lot better than it could have been." I gave him a shrug as I responded in a relaxed tone. I was very much not relaxed, but a considerable amount of North God Style involved, in the terms of LinkedIn influencers, "transferable and valuable skills" like "lying" and "bluffing," so I made do. "It's actually why I wanted to come swing by before my shift, since classes let me out early today. Could you tell me the name of the miko that gave you the omamori yesterday, or where she practices? I'd like to thank her for it, I feel like I'd be in an unfortunate position if I didn't have it."

"I'm sure Kasumi-chan would appreciate it, but I'm not sure if I feel comfortable sending you off to her, Aizome-kun, you look quite… hungry. Let me get you something to eat." With an impeccable sense of timing, my stomach growled, cutting the tension that had invisibly built as well silencing any protest I could have had. I could only watch with an awkward smile as he bustled off with an urgency I hadn't seen from him before, not allowing me any further response. Did I really look that bad?

The gaping pit that was my stomach probably indicated that I did, now that I thought about it. I hadn't accounted for my caloric requirements increasing from utilizing Battle Aura. As useful as it was, Battle Aura wasn't free — the utilization and manipulation of mana, the fuel for Battle Aura, was inextricably linked to the user's life force. Overuse without the ability to recoup resources and rest would naturally lead to someone weakening which meant that I had been traversing Tokyo having only eaten my typical breakfast when my caloric use was probably massively increased.

I put my head in my hand and sighed. I was already on a tight budget with groceries, but it wasn't just a caloric problem. If it was just a matter of pure fuel, I could lean hard with just putting in ludicrous amounts of oil and fat. That was the trick on how resturaunts made food taste so good, incidentally — they were just tremendously unafraid to use more fat and oil than most home cooks were comfortable with, and it barely affected plate size. Most neutral oils were pretty cheap too, unless you sprung for something like avocado oil or particularly authentic Italian olive oils, which I doubted were even in stock at the places I shopped at. No, what would be troublesome would be that I would need to eat like I was a professional athlete, and possibly more.

I would need to eat more animal protein to fuel muscle growth as well as supply additional iron for increased oxygen delivery and metabolism, more leafy vegetables and dairy products for calcium to support bone growth as well as various other nutrients, and I might have to spring for some fish for additional vitamin D and healthier fats. Those were all things I'd like to do anyway, but those went from "goals" to "necessities" if I was going to be a serious fighter, which was also a necessity due to the presence of literal people-eating ghosts in the city. And I doubted I would be fortunate enough to only have to concern with ghosts, either.

"Haaaah, what a pain in the ass," I groaned. "Where am I going to even put all the food I need too?"

I lived in what was essentially a shoebox of an apartment. If I wanted to even attempt to afford the food I'd need, I'd need to purchase items in bulk, and that required storage. Cold storage, to boot, so unless I had access to a magical inventory, this would be a hassle. Rubbing my face, I was broken out of my hunger-fueled annoyance with the classic solution for it — a hot, delicious meal. But as I saw Sakamoto-san approach, my eyes widened. This was not the "family meal" of a fresh katsu curry that I typically got for free before a shift. Or well, it was included, but in significantly larger and different fashion — it was a teishoku on steroids.

The first thing that caught my eye looked to be at least a pound and a half of pork katsudon atop an enormous plate of steaming white rice, paired with eggs and simmered in a special onion broth. On one side was a plate of fresh karaage glazed in a namban vinegar sauce with a number of sauces. On another was a bowl of curry rice, but instead of a chicken or pork cutlet, deep fried shrimp and hamburg steak accompanied it. Topping it all off, or washing it all down, I supposed, was a light miso soup, and a pot of tea on the side. It was one of the most mouthwatering things I had seen in this life, blasting the growls of my stomach away, letting another worry take the fore.

"Wait, Sakamoto-san, how much do I owe—"

"Nothing, Aizome-kun," the older man said, his expression shaped by a wry grin as he set down the veritable platter. "I don't know what happened last night, but you look pale as a ghost. The least I can do for my hardest worker is to give a little extra for a free meal. Think of it as congratulations for starting university, at the very least. You've worked very hard."

Without aplomb, he stood back up in full. I hadn't realized it before, but sitting down, he was very, very tall, back only slightly stooped with age. His shoulders and arms were wide, built from years of carrying this business on his back through thick and thin, and his hands scarred with innumerable burns and knife scars, adorned only with a simple gold wedding band. Yet even with all of that, his mustached face was filled with a kindness that could only have been described as resolved, and so any response beyond simple gratitude died in my throat.

"Thank you for the meal, Sakamoto-san."

He ruffled my hair with his hand. It probably smelled strongly of food, but I found I didn't care that much.

"Enjoy the food. And take the rest of the day — no, week off. It'll be no good for you if you hurt yourself if you're not a hundred percent."

Then he left me with the food, and the last thread of my restraint on my all-devouring hunger snapped. With a quiet itadakimasu, I took hold of the spoon and began tearing into the meal.

As it turned out, in the end, I wasn't able to find the miko. Instead, she was the one to find me, having returned to the restaurant, although for what reason I couldn't say. Perhaps she was regularly patrolling the area, perhaps she had detected the beast's death, or perhaps even the destruction or usage of whatever had been within the omamori. Sakamoto-san had known her by name, so maybe he had just plainly contacted her — if so, that would be another mark on the ledger of debts I had owed to him.

In any case, it was fortunate for both the miko and I that she had only arrived after I finished the majority of the meal I had been gifted. Although I still retained the presence of mind to still maintain some semblance of table manners, my second childhood's extremely effective indoctrination of common courtesy still holding strong, I had damn near torn into the dishes with the ferocity of a wild animal, and while I was no zoologist, in terms of animal movements I was hardly an amateur.

That speed and urgency led me to only sipping from the tea that Sakamoto-san had provided — a warm, nutty hojicha. The almost nutty-tasting green tea cut through the richness of the meal with alacrity while softly complementing the savory flavors, which was great because I could speak without my mouth being full when a young woman slipped into my booth before slapping something — probably an ofuda, if I was on the right track, on the underside of the table. Something quiet snapped around the table, and instinctively I could tell that it was muffling sound from leaving the area. So she was already laying cards on the table, so to speak, huh? Then I could only answer in response.

"Nice to meet you, miko-san," I greeted politely, placing my cup of hojicha down. "My name is Aizome Haru, and I would like to thank you, because the omamori you gave to Sakamoto-san to pass on saved my life by blowing up a giant ghost."

Unfortunately, that did not seem to be what she expected to hear, as the sharp-looking young woman — dressed no different from any other college-aged student, as I doubted anyone wanted to wear work attire out and about even when they were priestess robes, or perhaps especially so — sat in silence for a minute. Seeing as she was obviously thinking through some stuff, I got up and cleared my plates before requesting another cup and a refill of the tea. A much happier-looking Sakamoto-san acquiesced, and topped me up before fishing through the back and giving me a very pretty pair of cups to replace my own. Blown from glass, perhaps? With a mental shrug, I took my tray back and filled both cups before handing my non-conversational guest one. To my surprise, she actually did take one with a slightly embarrassed cough sipping a few with an appreciative hum before clearing her throat.

"My apologies, Aizome-san, I was caught a little off-guard of your statement. Allow me to introduce myself as well — my name is Nishina Kasumi, and I am an apprentice shrine maiden of the guardian shrine of Yotsuya, the one to the west of the Shinjuku Gyo-en." She took another sip of her tea before continuing, her gaze sharpening inquisitively. "I am gladdened to hear that I was of assistance to you, but I would ask you to forgive me for troubling you further. Please tell me everything about your encounter with this ghost."

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, the twinge in my ribs bringing the memories into sharp relief in my mind as my gray matter churned. The ghost was easy enough, but something told me that telling her everything in a public area, no matter the privacy ofuda, was probably not the wisest idea. Still — as much as I could pursue my own training as is, she was my current best, albeit only, source on supernatural world. And she had still gone around, publicly offering clearly effective omamori for free to the public, and that had to count for something, no? So a leap of faith could be afforded. Trust, but verify, right? I exhaled, and did my best to speak clearly and steadily.

"After I ended my shift and Sakamoto-san gave me the omamori you asked him to distribute, I began to bike home. It's about a kilometer west to here, towards Nishi-Shinjuku — the rent is cheaper there with all the newer compact developments. About half a kilometer there, I noticed the streetlights beginning to flicker, which normally doesn't occur, so I did my best to pedal faster. Unfortunately, that was when the ghost attempted to strike from behind — I only barely managed to dodge it by swerving."

Grasping my glass cup, strangely iridescent as the reddish-brown color of the hojicha filtered the afternoon sunlight coming through the windows. I took a sip of the tea, wetting my suddenly parched throat.

"I attempted to hurl my bike at it first, but it passed right through it, which is when I first thought it was a ghost. It started to wail something about finding its "darling" before attempting to strike again, which I also managed to evade — it really only attacked in a straight line, which I think was because it was heavily wounded. One of its limbs, I think the front left one, wasn't used in the entire encounter, and its entire body was covered with wounds, from both sword slashes and what appeared to be gunshot wounds writ large. Oh, and half of its face, or mask, I'm not sure, was missing, from what I could tell."

I took another deep breath before finishing my cup of tea, the warmth and slight bitterness refocusing myself. I considered pouring myself another, but I mentally discarded the thought in favor of pressing on. Best to finish it, I could drink however much tea I wanted when Nishina-san explained whatever was going on.

"That kind of game of cat-and-mouse continued on for… I don't know how long, but it felt like five or ten minutes? It jumped, I dodged, and it landed, cratering the street. It seemed content to keep on doing this — I think both of us were playing for time, in a sense. I was attempting to stall out for long enough that whatever had wounded it would come by to finish it off, and it was enjoying herding me around. Maybe it was feeding off my fear, I don't know. Whatever the case, it was tiring me out more than I was tiring it out — coming off a long shift working here seemed to have done more to drain my stamina than whatever had happened to it, so I decided to make a gamble."

Closing my eyes to gather myself, the memories began to truly flow. The feel of the silk brocade against my clammy hand. The shining bright light as it detonated against the ghost's mask. The warmth of Battle Aura flowing from my chest. The wet spatter of ectoplasm as I stomped through its head—

I exhaled.

"After climbing up a wall, I tied the omamori around my fingers, so when I made a fist, it would be facing outwards. When the dust settled, the beast made its way out, but this time, its mask had altered — the half of the mask it had kept was smiling. It and I jumped for each other at the same time, and I managed to punch it in the face, after which something exploded with a shining bright light, and I passed out for a minute or two. After coming too, I felt something burning in my chest, and saw that the beast was still lying there, with only a quarter of its mask remaining, the mouth. The entire time, it was wailing for its darling, so I put it out of its misery. After that, I biked home, patched myself up, and fell asleep."

Sometime in the middle of my… debriefing, Nishina-san had taken out a notebook and began taking notes. I could only catch a few words before she closed it after I finished — inheritor, exorcist, and… what looked to be jingi? Divine Treasure? That seemed strangely familiar to me for some reason. Nevertheless, after giving me a moment to catch my breath and drink some tea, she began to speak.

"I'm terribly sorry about what happened to you, Aizome-san. Something like that should have never happened to you, and part of it is at least partially the fault of our shrine. Quieting ghosts is our responsibility, and the fact that we did not purify it before it attacked you is our failure. Please accept our apologies."

She bowed her head at that moment, before raising it, clearly giving me a moment to speak if I needed to. However, I remained silent. What could I even say? I clearly didn't even have a quarter of the facts involved. Recognizing that, she continued onward.

"What attacked you was a gaki, a hungry ghost, driven by the need to eat rather than an onryō's need to right any wrongs. It was actually one of a pair, resulting from a young couple's shinjū. Their deaths were not discovered for some time as they apparently had no family or friends nearby, their bodies discovered only a week later as a neighbor checked on them. Apparently the husband had lost his job some time ago and had been unable to find a new one. With no family to fall back on and their savings having run out, they fell into despair, and thus their spirits degenerated extremely quickly."

The memory of the ghost — gaki's wailing filled my mind. Double suicide, huh? That would sure produce a ghost. But wait, a pair? Before I could ask, Nishina-san continued onward, preemptively answering my question.

"I apologize for the digression. The wounds that your assailant had suffered likely came from a group of Catholic Exorcists stationed in Bunkyo-ku and Chiyoda-ku — the gunshot and slash wounds that seem seared into the flesh are indicative of the Light Weaponry that they wield, typically. I suppose they managed to kill one of the pair but couldn't finish off the other. I suppose our shrine will have to inform them of both of their failures, although they likely already know if the neighborhood was already sanitized by this morning. We will of course leave your name out, unless you would prefer otherwise?"

Unfortunately for her, my mind was still stuck on the fact that there were actual, no-shit Catholic Exorcists stationed in Tokyo, and probably right out of my school to boot! I had suspected, sure, but was Sophia University also doubling as an Exorcist training facility? The Bishop sure had to know, but who else did? Did the priests? Did my mo—the nuns know? What the fuck?

"That's fine — could you explain what you mean by Catholic Exorcists?"

Nishina-san nodded.

"Ah, of course. A full explanation will take quite some time and this privacy ofuda is wearing out, but I could give you a summary. Is that acceptable to you?"

"That's fine, if you can give that full explanation later," I replied.

"I absolutely will, just come by the shrine and I will give you the full details." Opening up that notebook again, she scribbled down a few lines before tearing it out and giving it to me. "That's my phone number, as well as the address of the shrine. Just give me a call, and I can schedule an appointment."

Glancing at the scrap of paper for a moment, I folded it up and putting it into my wallet. The first time I got a girl's phone number in this life, and it took me getting attacked by a ghost. Ah well, it was what it was.

"All sorts of supernatural factions inhabit Japan — the Five Principal Clans are a powerful group of Shinto families that like to say they ward the entirety of Japan, but in truth they are one of many. The East and West Youkai factions have stationed themselves out of Kanto and Kyoto respectively, and the Church has established a bastion in Tokyo after the Pacific War and various other outposts throughout the islands. In response the Devils have a foothold in a number of places, such as the delightfully named Kuoh-chu, and the Grigori—"

Nishina-san continued onward, and I continued listening, but my mind had well and thoroughly been blasted off into my space. After her explanation and the privacy field dissolved, I accepted an ofuda she said would be able to accelerate my recovery. After promising to give her a call by the end of the week, she left the restaurant, and after finishing my tea and cleaning up after myself. With my afternoon suddenly free from work, I went home to my apartment, the small walls suddenly no longer feeling claustrophobic but were somehow now comforting. I attempted to study, but my thoughts were focused on something thoroughly else—

—the fact that the world I now inhabited was an ecchi shounen light novel series that I never finished reading because the translation on Baka-Tsuki got fucking DMCA'd and I sure as hell wasn't going to watch the anime. A town called "King Piece Town" that was inhabited by Devils. "Three Factions." It wasn't "Divine Treasures," it was Sacred fucking Gears. It was absolutely Highschool DxD. And the series wasn't even finished either, the author apparently never finished the arc where alien gods from another world who cut down the Great Red Dragon of the Apocalypse invaded either, so even if I theoretically did finish all of the volumes I wouldn't even know how it would have ended either!

It probably would have had some kind of happy ending, because it was an ecchi shounen light novel series, but there was a very real risk that that would involve an awful lot of collateral damage, considering how much of the Underworld got torn up by the Hero Faction. Dead God above, I already had my plate full with the near-apocalyptic economic crash in my future and this rancid, stagnant economy, and I had to deal with an actual apocalypse too?

I sighed. At least I wasn't totally helpless, and spiraling over things wouldn't help. After screaming into my futon, I decided to go finish up my homework and go to sleep, making a note to find a place to practice tomorrow. Maybe the shrine would be a good place, but there were sure to boe other options. Even if Tokyo was undergoing the "Urban Renaissance," tearing down and redeveloping block upon block, there were plenty of places to go about unnoticed in the industrial areas. Tokyo Bay's waterfront was full of them after the deindustrialization post-war and then the Bubble popping. And in places to just work out and practice the North God Style on a less obviously supernatural basis, I could do that basically wherever. All I had to do was figure out my food situation, and I was basically set.

Satisfied with having at least determined things I could focus on and plan out tomorrow, I decided to sleep, the warmth of the ofuda Nishina-san gifted me soothing my thoroughly fried brain and body.

I woke up to a flame in my heart and my brain flooded with even more memories that were somehow my own this time but I knew were very much not. More on how to fight, on how to destroy, on how to kill.

Instinctively, I knew if I lost control right now, I could blow up not just my apartment, but this entire building. So I did what I was doing an awful lot these past few days, breathing in deep for four seconds, holding it for another four, and breathing out.

No pain greeted me in response, and I knew then if I took off my shirt and examined myself, I would find not just a changed mind, but a changed body as well.

Fuck them plans, I supposed.

Gathering myself, I repeated my actions from two days ago, reaching out to my right and grabbed my cell phone. This time, however, I also opened up my wallet and pulled out the slip of paper I was given yesterday as well.

I flicked open the cell phone. 6:57, three minutes before my alarm would have went off. Small blessings. I offered up a mental prayer that I wasn't waking Nishina-san up, and dialed the number.

Holy double post! But I promised an update by tonight, so yeah.

Before I literally even say anything else, here's the rolls:

The Lonely Path
200 CP
- Oftentimes, you'll have to figure something out on your own. Be it a new technique, an application of an old skill, or a strategy for beating a specific opponent. With this, you can look to yourself for inspiration, taking an outward perspective of your own thoughts and examining them from new angles to help further progress yourself and grow stronger. You can even go so far as to "hallucinate" a mock opponent to try new ideas out on, though they aren't exactly a real sparring partner.
Source: Cradle, Chapter: Refinement

Captain
200 CP
Powerhouses of the spiritual worlds, this is the divide that separates the weak from the strong. Those at this level are the Captains, Espada and Stern Ritter of their kind, albeit the weaker and less experienced members of these august ranks. As one of the longer lived races, you may very well be a centuries old warrior, with a well rounded understanding of both combat and your races' unique abilities. Highly capable in most areas, from combat to technique to racial magic. A Bankai, if not fully mastered, or Resurreccion is expected at this point. Your spiritual power has reached what most would consider the level of an 'average' Shinigami Captain and you're likely to be a frontline fighter for any faction you join. Some examples are thus. A Shinigami might be equal to Captain Komamura or Captain Hitsugaya early in the story, powerful but hardly the cream of the crop as they are now. A Hollow would be one of the lower Espada, an Adjuchas made Arrancar through the Hogyoko, such as Grimmjow or Nnoitra. Of the Quincy, the lesser Stern Ritter such as Candice Catnipp or Bazz B are a good example. Of the Fullbringers, Ginjo before he takes Ichigo Kurosaki's powers is a capable representative and Artificial Spirits could look to powerful Bount like Jin Kariya or enhanced souls like Nemu.
Source: Bleach, Chapter: Source

Tenacity
100 CP
Willpower, the drive to keep going no matter what kind of setbacks you face. Even after dead friends, after lost limbs, even after the immense pains of torture; if you can find a reason to live, you won't break. So yes, you can ignore pain and injuries with this perk but they are still present.
Source: Feng Shen Ji, Chapter: Refinement

Fuck them plans for real, I guess. I was putting together some preliminary plans for the next few chapters, but a friend of mine told me to do some pre-rolls so I wouldn't get totally surprised and make things flow well, and I guess I owe them a lot for that.

To be clear, Haru isn't an actual Captain level fighter (whatever the fuck that means when it includes Jobsugaya), it's pretty contextual for species, and as much of a beast that Vasco Strada is, three of the other top 5 Strongest Humans are Sacred Gear merchants, and the fourth, Arthur, is a Holy Sword merchant as well. Vasco's the only one who's up there off of basically sheer physical might and the Holy Fist he developed himself.

On the other hand, even the sheer physical stats of the other like, "frontline human combatants" that we see from those who are high tier but not the apex of the world -- the other Hero Faction combatants can reliably contest with the protagonists of DxD (Heracles, for example, would fit the context of like a Komamura of the Hero faction, lmao), then there's Ewald Cristaldi who can speedcheck Kiba later on in the series (albeit it takes Rapidly to push him over the edge) and beats the crap out of the squad he faces before Kiba absorbed the sword's powers. Although Cristaldi is probably cheating and despite the fact he was using 3 Excalibur Fragments, even if he's not "Top 5" he's still mentioned in the same name as Vasco as someone who can still whip the top level of devils, so I'm pretty comfortable at the moment just putting Haru at like, high end of Hero Faction, so like Heracles, Connla, Jeanne.

On the third, mutant hand, there's also the fact that this probably also applies to North God Style too, and "top end but like not apex tier" is really nasty there too, so I'm going to have to work out how that works too. Maybe King or Emperor rank? I don't know. The first three comments in this thread were involving power systems and powerlevels, so help me out here haha.

In any case, this chapter was a lot of internal thought and dialogue/exposition, so it's a little transitory. I'll try to get to some punching again sooner rather than later.

Tokyo is full of resentment and despair at the moment, after all.

RookDeSuit · 2026-07-12T05:16:58+0100

Would Tokyo's current Negative Environment help disguise his newfound 'energy,' from Captain, or does it just make it stand out more among the Despair?

To-be-hero-X · 2026-07-12T05:20:29+0100

BlueHelix said:
Your spiritual power has reached what most would consider the level of an 'average' Shinigami Captain

'average' Shinigami Captain is literally Tower above a lot of people no seriously there a reason why Shinigami Captain and vice captain have to put seal on there power when going out to the living world because world would be screwed if they didn't

NemoMarx · 2026-07-12T05:24:13+0100

"Captain level" is so broad, that's a very funny perk. tricky to parse and transfer though. I assume it doesn't literally mean all the energy but like... an Adjuchas level isn't nothing in normal civilian Tokyo.

ObsidianNoir · 2026-07-12T06:35:45+0100

North God Style including many various life skills is very funny.

And the rock dropped for homie to find out about which setting he landed and how screwed he is, even with the buffs he just received. Or rather foundation since Captain Level everything and Willpower combined is nasty to get started to master the North God Style - Animal edition.

Honestly surprised the Miko didn't go for the mindwiping since they want to keep the Youkai on the down low but hey, silver linings.

Fayhem · 2026-07-12T06:41:05+0100

I like how in stride the miko takes this - it really conveys how yeah this is literally just her job for her.

JoshieWoshie · 2026-07-12T08:30:15+0100

BlueHelix said:
No pain greeted me in response, and I knew then if I took off my shirt and examined myself, I would find not just a changed mind, but a changed body as well.

gotta consider how this looks from the outside

>eat one (1) good meal for the first time in maybe forever
>Wake up the next day with 8 pack abs and powerful aura

Warper6 · 2026-07-12T08:42:51+0100

BlueHelix said:
Taking advantage of my frontloaded class schedule that day — nothing after third period, but in exchange I had to be up bright and early as was the burden and curse of underclassmen, I decided to fill the gap in time before work with going to the zoo. Cost of attendance was relatively cheap, and miraculously my bicycle hadn't been rendered unusable by my impromptu Ghostbusters performance, so it was easy enough to go. This world's YouTube equivalent hadn't really taken off yet, so I couldn't really harvest it for insights, and in absence of better options to observe exotic animals, Japan's oldest zoo felt like a pretty good consolation prize.

I wonder if he'll ever try to figure out how to punch from a Mantis shrimp. Though admittedly finding one would be much harder this early on.

Sometimes The Light At The End Of The Tunnel Is An Oncoming Train [DxD / Celestial Dojo SI]

I trust you know where the happy button is?

The number one hero

I trust you know where the happy button is?

Making the rounds.

(Local Lurker)

Getting sticky.

Versed in the lewd.

Versed in the lewd.

Making the rounds.

Getting sticky.

I trust you know where the happy button is?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

Versed in the lewd.

The number one hero

Getting sticky.

Making the rounds.

Getting some practice in, huh?

Well dressed, for the occasion

Experienced.

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