The fire danced happily.
I lay flat on my back on the ground, my body covered in wounds I had pierced into myself with a dagger.
People returned with fire-extinguishing grenades, tossing them into the room without hesitation. A poison I had mixed into the grenades also rapidly volatilized in the high heat
But I knew the only one who would die was the me lying right here.
With my vision blurred, I gazed fixedly at the sharp spearhead hanging from the beam above and stopped breathing.
…
……
“……Hah!”
Nagito Komaeda jolted awake from his dream, breathing heavily as if to compensate for the sensation of suffocation he had just experienced, taking quite a while to steady his racing heartbeat.
“It was just a dream.”
…Strictly speaking, that was actually one of Nagito Komaeda’s memories.
He had died once before, and his memories of the previous world remained fixed on that exact moment of death, just like in the dream.
Though he had died right after that, according to Nagito Komaeda’s calculations, the subsequent sequence of events would have been his hand, holding the rope, loosening upon death, causing the sharp spear suspended above to fall under gravity and inflict wounds on his body that resembled fatal injuries.
Thus, a suicide staged to look like a homicide scene was complete.
Nagito Komaeda had originally orchestrated a plan using his own death, never expecting that upon opening his eyes, he would find himself in a completely different world.
He had suddenly awakened in this world’s version of himself the night before yesterday.
Unlike the ordinary junior high school student he was in this world, in his original world, he was a high school student at Hope’s Peak Academy.
Private Hope’s Peak Academy was a special educational institution enjoying government privileges, dedicated to nurturing society’s top elite talent. Every year, it selected prodigies across various fields from junior high school graduates nationwide; securing admission to the main branch of Private Hope’s Peak Academy meant half of one’s life was already guaranteed success.
Although it featured affiliated elementary and junior high schools, the core of Private Hope’s Peak Academy was its high school division.
Admission to the high school division required meeting two conditions:
Being a current high school student.
Possessing supernatural-level talent in a specific field. (*Note)
Elites active in various fields were granted corresponding titles upon enrollment, such as “Ultimate Detective” or “Ultimate Programmer.”
They were the “hope” of the nation.
However, each incoming class also featured a special slot, randomly drawing one person from the roster of current high school students for admission.
This was purely a matter of luck. Naturally, even if successfully enrolled, the only title obtained was “Ultimate Lucky Student” a designation somewhat looked down upon by those possessing genuine, concrete talents.
Nagito Komaeda was the Ultimate Lucky Student of the 77th class at Private Hope’s Peak Academy.
Normally, the Ultimate Lucky Student of each generation was essentially an ordinary person, merely hitting the jackpot on the admission lottery and subsequently fading into the crowd without warranting attention.
Yet Nagito Komaeda was different.
During a meeting of the Private Hope’s Peak Academy board of directors, an incident like this had occurred:
The board members questioned the headmaster: “Luck is ultimately just a matter of probability; it shouldn’t be treated as an exception and classified as a talent!”
Without even uttering Nagito Komaeda’s name, the headmaster simply brought up: “The one from the previous generation…”
The board members, unable to refute, responded with: “…………”
Ultimately, the board members had to swallow their own words, complaining with veiled expressions before retracting their prior statements.
By his own individual effort in less than a year, Nagito Komaeda had thoroughly transformed the academy board members who had always held the mindset that “luck is worth zero” and “possesses zero research value” into people whose complexions shifted drastically upon hearing topics related to Komaeda, to the point where even the name “Nagito Komaeda” was practically treated as a taboo.
This demonstrated that Nagito Komaeda’s luck had indeed shattered common sense yet even Komaeda himself, who was well aware of this, never imagined that staging a plot with his own death could surpass imagination and cause him to be reborn into the version of himself in another world.
When he first arrived in this world, his mind was still immersed in that instant of death, and he could no longer clearly remember what had happened. In short, after finally regaining clarity, Nagito Komaeda barely managed to piece together his memories of this world’s self, borrowed someone else’s phone to call the police, and tossed about all night before finally returning home.
Today was his third day in this world, which gave him ample time to digest both sets of memories.
Upon waking, Nagito Komaeda instinctively glanced at the bookshelf opposite his bed.
If there was anything he found unsatisfactory about this world, one was the absence of Hope’s Peak Academy, and the other was…
“…Sigh, the literary world in this world is truly barren.”
As someone who thoroughly enjoyed reading and possessed a remarkably wide range of reading interests, the literary scene in this world baffled Nagito Komaeda.
According to the memories of his counterpart in this world, most of the literary giants he was familiar with in the other world had simply vanished.
Vanishing entirely was one thing, but a few familiar names like Natsume Soseki remained, leaving him with a lingering sense that something was amiss here.
As an ordinary native student who “never considered this a problem,” Nagito Komaeda paid little attention to it.
Since no clues could be gleaned from his memories, he temporarily shelved the issue, planning to specifically visit the library for research when school resumed the next day.
Come to think of it, having already spent two high school years at Hope’s Peak Academy, dying once meant he now had to go right back to attending the third year of junior high…
Muttering internal complaints while organizing his information, Nagito Komaeda changed his clothes and prepared to head out.
He had little choice; although he knew how to cook, his house had been thoroughly rummaged through by kidnappers… including the refrigerator.
What on earth were those kidnappers thinking? Did they honestly expect him to store cash inside the refrigerator? Hahaha, if that were true, it certainly was a creative idea anyway, the food previously stored in the fridge had all been thrown out while he was cleaning the house yesterday.
In any case, he would be leaving Yokohama tonight to live at his house in Tokyo, so there was no need to buy any groceries; if he needed anything, he could just grab a bite outside like this.
Walking out onto the street, Nagito Komaeda casually surveyed the surrounding storefronts, wandering aimlessly with the intention of picking a decent-looking shop to sort out his meal.
Just as he accepted a flyer handed out by a young woman on the street, a strange, distant sound suddenly echoed through the air.
The smiling young woman’s expression instantly darkened: “It’s starting again…!”
“Yakuza?” Nagito Komaeda sighed.
Yokohama in this world was far from peaceful; major incidents had broken out last year, with gang turf wars spilling everywhere onto the streets.
Knowing his own circumstances, Nagito Komaeda had deliberately stayed in Tokyo and avoided returning at the time. Even so, his house had still been caught in the collateral damage, though fortunately, he had purchased insurance.
Oddly enough, while Yokohama was in utter turmoil, Nagito Komaeda felt completely at peace over in Tokyo. News reports were likely suppressed by the government, and unless one paid close attention to Yokohama, it was impossible to tell what was actually going on.
Interestingly, a junior high school student a grade below him named Shinichi Kudo seemed to have guessed something, even coming over to him to probe for news about Yokohama, appearing intensely interested in the city.
Upon hearing a general overview of the situation, the junior high schooler Shinichi had indignantly remarked: “Yokohama’s violent syndicates are way too arrogant!”
Consequently, compared to last year’s state where ordinary citizens didn’t even dare walk the streets during daylight, things had improved significantly this year. A single gunshot like that would have triggered a continuous chain of gunfire last year.
…Thinking about it carefully, this was likely because those capable of fighting had largely wiped each other out last year. As for the Port Mafia, far from declining, they had seized the opportunity to sweep in and establish themselves as the supreme bosses of Yokohama’s underworld, beginning the systematic annexation and purging of their rivals.
Under the Port Mafia’s governance, Yokohama had grown surprisingly harmonious at least now everyone dared to walk the streets again, and commercial activity was quite brisk.
Regrettably, occurrences like the one just heard had not completely vanished; the Port Mafia hadn’t quite monopolized the entirety of Yokohama’s underworld yet, so friction remained normal.
The young woman was also quite accustomed to this sudden disturbance. Although her expression soured slightly as the gunshot seemed quite close, she didn’t panic, instead calmly asking Nagito Komaeda: “Would you like to come hide in our shop?”
Nagito Komaeda readily agreed: “How kind of you, to be willing to care about someone like me.”
The young woman: “……?”
Why did this kid talk rather strangely… Never mind, getting back inside the shop safely was top priority.
The flyer distribution spot was very close to the storefront. Leading Nagito forward past two shopfronts, the young woman arrived at the destination.
It was a noodle shop. The master chef was preparing dishes in a semi-open kitchen, and regular customers could sit directly at the long counter in front of him. Nagito Komaeda, being a newcomer, chose an inconspicuous corner, ordered a bowl of recommended noodles, and waited inside.
During the wait, Nagito Komaeda kept observing the pedestrians outside the window, soon noticing that people on the street were noticeably quickening their pace, with some even breaking into a jog… It looked like the battlefield was moving in this direction.
Nagito Komaeda had plenty of experience with such situations and possessed a distinct premonition that next, most likely…
“Your noodles are ready~”
The young woman’s voice interrupted Nagito Komaeda’s train of thought. Smiling his thanks, he slowly began to eat the bowl of noodles.
No matter what, eating came first. He had been suffering from constant headaches due to the merging of his memories and hadn’t eaten properly yesterday; if he didn’t eat now, it would affect his stomach.
Besides, even if something were to happen… someone whose only unique trait was having better luck than everyone else lacked the capability to stop it, didn’t they?
Nagito Komaeda’s premonition proved correct.
He had barely taken a few bites when several burly men in black suits walked into the shop, instantly plunging the entire establishment into dead silence.
One of the men in black checked some kind of instrument in his hand, then abruptly pointed at someone: “It’s him! Grab him! Don’t think you can get away just by changing your appearance!”
The fellow being pursued by the men in black had not surrendered willingly a moment before, so naturally, he wasn’t going to wait obediently to be captured now. Gunfire instantly erupted once more within the cramped confines of the shop.
The man in black wanted to curse out loud on the spot.
Daring to fire blindly in such a tight space weren’t they afraid of getting hit by a stray bullet?!
Without a doubt, total chaos erupted inside the shop. Some patrons ignored the men in black guarding the outside and jumped straight out the windows to flee, while the individual who seemed skilled at disguise seized the opportunity to muddy the waters and continue his escape.
After a short while, the shop finally grew quiet.
Nagito Komaeda looked at the man in black pointing a gun directly at him and sighed: “You’ve got the wrong person.”
The man in black sneered with absolute confidence: “Even though you changed your appearance again and even threw away your jacket, it’s a pity our tracker isn’t placed on your jacket.”
“Ah… I know, it’s on my shirt, right?” Nagito Komaeda said helplessly.
Which meant that the person who had bolted past his back and escaped through the window just moments before was actually the target these men in black were after.
Presumably, while brushing past him, that person had casually slipped the tracker onto him… Thinking about it, Nagito Komaeda did recall that the fellow seemed to be wearing a white shirt similar to his own.
To get dragged into this kind of trouble simply because he happened to wear a similar shirt—he really was quite unlucky. However, this also made him anticipate what kind of fortune his impending luck would bring him.
Nagito Komaeda put down his chopsticks, raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, and offered a modest explanation: “It’s a misunderstanding. I’m not the person you’re looking for; the tracker must have been placed on me by him just now such an obvious setup, surely you can see that, right?”
Although he was explaining, no matter how one listened, Nagito Komaeda’s tone sounded rather like mockery. Coupled with his ability to respond with complete composure under such circumstances, his demeanor only solidified the man in black’s conviction.
“Cut the crap!” The man in black held his gun steady. “Even without the tracker, I can tell at a glance that you’re the most suspicious person in this entire shop!”
A voice ringing with intense, enthusiastic curiosity abruptly sounded from behind the man in black.
“Oh? How could you tell?”
“Of course it’s because—” The man in black started to say, before suddenly noticing something amiss with the voice. “Ah, Dazai-sama!”
Nagito Komaeda looked toward the source of the voice.