My name is Makoto Shiroyama.
I was born near Shiroyama in Kagoshima, at the southern edge of Kyushu.
I never imagined that after heading out to buy a pack of cigarettes so I could stay up all night watching Stone Ocean, I would get hit by a car and die.
Even now, he still could not figure out how that dump truck had managed to drive up onto the sidewalk and send him to heaven.
The good news was that Makoto had died, but not completely.
When he opened his eyes again, he thought for a moment that he had arrived in heaven.
Instead, he discovered that he had not died at all.
He had been given a new life.
A man in his twenties, nearly thirty, had somehow ended up in a woman’s womb, absorbed ten months of nutrients, and been born all over again.
He had been reborn.
In this life, he had been given a brand-new surname and given name, but none of that mattered anymore.
He called himself Makoto Shiroyama now, a name that echoed the place where he had grown up.
He no longer remembered the names of his parents in this life.
All he felt toward that foolish couple was hatred, because when they had taken him outside as a child, they had allowed human traffickers to drug him and carry him off.
Children kidnapped by traffickers had only two possible outcomes.
The first was the luckier one.
The traffickers would take the abducted child somewhere remote, far from the city, and sell them to families desperate for children of their own.
Even though those children lost their real parents, at least they did not have to steal or scam for a living.
If they met a decent family, they might even be raised like biological children.
Makoto envied them from the bottom of his heart.
The second outcome was what happened to unlucky children like Makoto.
He could not be sold.
When that happened, the traffickers, unwilling to let their “product” go to waste, would never kindly release the child.
Instead, they would make use of the “trash,” training those children from a young age to steal and deceive so they could earn money for them.
Makoto had forgotten how old he was when he was abducted.
All he knew was that when he woke from unconsciousness, he was already inside a filthy warehouse.
“Damn it.
I reincarnated once and didn’t get a golden finger, but I did get a one-way ticket to Myanmar?” Makoto forced himself to calm down and search for a way to escape.
But several days passed, and he still could not find any way out of the warehouse.
He could not even figure out the layout of the area, much less determine where he was.
“Damn it.
I’m so hungry.
All I get every day is water and bread.
It’s nowhere near enough.
If this keeps up, won’t I be too weak from hunger to run?” Makoto tried to keep himself steady.
But hunger kept tormenting his nerves, making it impossible for his emotions to settle.
After some time, the traffickers finally brought him out of the warehouse.
Seeing the sun again, Makoto felt for the first time that sunlight was warm and beautiful.
But he had no time to enjoy it.
The traffickers immediately began teaching him how to steal and run scams.
Makoto had no idea how to do any of it.
On the first day, he could not learn a single thing.
Those scumbags were not patient people.
Every time Makoto did poorly, he was met with punches and kicks.
In their eyes, Makoto was not a human life.
He was only a tool for making money.
If he could not make money, he might as well be dead.
Back in the warehouse, Makoto thought viciously, “I’ll remember this…” In the days that followed, Makoto still did not give up on finding a way out.
But the traffickers were careful.
According to them, someone had once successfully escaped from this place.
“I don’t know which bastard managed that, but now I’m the one who can’t get away.” Helpless, Makoto could only endure the hunger and the pain in his body, clinging to life in this unknown place.
Every day after that, he ate scraps too small to matter.
Sometimes there was no food at all, only a mouthful of water.
As long as he failed at his “lessons” during the day, those scumbags would beat him and make him go hungry.
He did not know how long that kind of life continued.
A month?
A year?
Or two years?
Makoto had no idea how long he had been there.
He only knew that his body was growing weaker, and his will was weakening with it.
Slowly, he became afraid even to think about escaping.
Every day, he only wanted to complete his “homework” properly.
Maybe it was his imagination, but Makoto noticed that the traffickers had begun smiling more when they looked at him.
When he saw that, his own heart would relax as well.
Was it the Mid-Autumn Festival?
Makoto had completely lost his sense of time here.
All he knew was that the moon tonight was very round.
Before he could appreciate that quiet moment, the traffickers’ leader walked in and told him he would begin working tomorrow.
As long as he did his job well, he would be allowed to eat his fill.
“I won’t have to go hungry…
That’s great.
I’ll do the job right.” ….
The next day.
Makoto was taken to a crowded subway station.
His task today was to cooperate with the leader in a theft.
Their leader would keep the target occupied for a while.
After that, Makoto only needed to cut open the target’s pocket and take whatever valuables were inside.
It was Makoto’s first time doing that kind of work, yet he was surprisingly good at it.
On his very first attempt, he successfully lifted a wallet from the target’s pocket.
“Great.
I can eat my fill tonight…” That night, he truly ate until he was full.
To reward him, the traffickers even gave him a piece of meat.
Satisfied, Makoto began to look forward to his next job.
Makoto discovered that he seemed to have talent.
The leader also praised his learning ability, saying he was the fastest learner among all the children he had ever seen.
Because of his outstanding performance, Makoto was given more responsibility by the traffickers.
He began taking part in more jobs.
Theft, fraud…
as long as it made money, he did it.
And slowly, he learned more.
Makoto discovered that they were not alone.
Besides the couple who had taught him his skills, they had many other accomplices.
That was why they could keep “working” for so long without being discovered.
Makoto also discovered that there were actually many children like him here.
That year, Makoto was fourteen.
He saw many children locked in places similar to the warehouse where he had once stayed.
Just like his former self, they went hungry every day and were beaten every day for doing poorly in their “lessons.” Makoto’s current job was to teach them, watch over them, punish them…
Those days continued for a long, long time.
Until one day, he beat a child to death.
Touching the child’s cold corpse, Makoto felt as if an electric current had struck his brain.
“What have I done!?” Makoto collapsed to his knees.
Tears spilled from his yellowed eyes as the memories he had hidden away surged back like a tide.
Lost in shock, he did not notice that the sister of the child he had killed had somehow produced an arrow.
She drove it hard into his stomach.
Looking down at the blood pouring from his abdomen, Makoto’s consciousness began to blur.
At the very end, he seemed to see the couple he had once sworn to kill hurrying over.
Then, when he opened his eyes again, there was only darkness around him.
His body felt as if something were pressing down on it.
Makoto’s nose was very sharp.
He recognized the smell of soil.
Furious, Makoto had no mind to care about anything else.
Energy surged behind him.
With a roar, he burst straight out of the earth.
He lifted his head.
Stars filled the sky.
By the light of the moon, he saw the “evil spirit” floating at his side.
Or rather, his Stand.
But none of that mattered now.
All he wanted was to tear apart the scumbags who had buried him in the wilderness, and most importantly, to take the abducted children out of that hell.