Not a Mob: Psycho

"Well, looks like this is the end of the line..." mused a man with long, oily brown hair, sun-kissed skin, numerous scars, and light stubble adorning a rugged, battle-weary face. Blood pooled beneath him at an alarming rate, but he still managed a smile as he enjoyed one final cigarette, courtesy of the men surrounding him with guns.
"No final acts of heroism?" asked one of the gunmen, glaring at the man with an ice-cold glimmer in his eyes.
"Nah, I'm done..." replied the man. "You can only step on her toes so many times before death refuses to keep dancing with you. In my current state, I can't even control my bowels, much less give one final hurrah..."
Punctuating his statement, the man pulled the spent cigarette from his mouth, extinguishing it in the blood pooling beneath him as he mused, "See you in Hell, gentlemen..."
Before the men could respond, an explosion ripped through the corpse-littered compound, the final resting place of some of the world's greatest assassins and mercenaries. The scarred man had rigged it to explode the moment his heart stopped, so while he couldn't escape his fate, he didn't go silently into the darkness...
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"Wow. I usually condemn cowards that resort to self-immolation and explosives to take out their enemies, but that was pretty badass," said a woman with pale, lavender-tinged white hair, matching eyes, and skin so fair it could be called luminous. Her ensemble resembled some kind of priestess outfit, but her most striking feature was the strange triangular halo hovering over her head as she tossed a piece of fluffy white popcorn into her mouth.
Staring at the peculiar woman, seated in what looked like a gaming chair as she watched the final moments of his life play out on a floating, semi-transparent screen, the scarred man jokingly remarked, "If I had known someone was watching, I would have made things more cinematic."
"Unlikely," said the peculiar woman, waving away the display and leaning across her somewhat messy desk as she revealed, "The humans of your world are coded to willfully disregard the possibility that all your actions are being observed and judged. Most of you acknowledge the existence of a higher power, but if you structured your existence within the bounds of such knowledge, you wouldn't have the illusion of freedom necessary to ere and develop wisdom."
"So, what, you're some kind of god?" asked the scarred man, eyeing the halo above the woman's head.
"It would be more accurate to call me an Auditor," said the woman. "The Gods of your world violated the clause against direct interference a few too many times, so you've been self-governing for the past few millennia. Lucky you."
"How so?" asked the man.
Instead of answering solely with words, the lavender-haired Auidtor waved her hand, causing a large, semi-transparent display to appear before the man as she explained, "Generally speaking, departed souls that aren't immediately recycled end up in an afterlife prepared by their governing deities. Since there are no gods to regulate this cycle in your world, you fall under the System of Karmic Exchange. Explained in a way you can understand, you can use the Karma you acquired in your previous life to influence your next incarnation."
Staring at the innumerable options listed before him, including things like being born into a wealthy family, having good fortune, or possessing blue eyes, the scarred man perked up as he asked, "Is there an option to keep my memories...?"
"There is," replied the Auditor. At the same time, the display before the man scrolled down rapidly, highlighting the option 'Reincarnation' with a base price of 100,000 Karma. When pressed, however, several additional options popped up, increasing or decreasing the cost based on whether or not he toggled certain detriments or perks. For example, reincarnating in his original world increased the price to more than ten million in a single go.
Looking down at the amount of Karma he had, 108,492, the man was about to ask how the number was calculated when the screen changed, showing him a list of 'achievements' he had accumulated throughout his life. Notably, he gained 10,000 points for graduating from college but lost more than a thousand for having sex before marriage. There was also a darkened option that would have rewarded him 50,000 Karma for finding his soul mate, causing him to frown deeply.
"The human heart is fickle," said the Auditor. "You may have believed the woman you married to be your soul mate, but had remained together for more than six months before her death, your feelings for her would have waned with time. Your actual soul mate was that barista who you couldn't get out of your mind, even though she only served you coffee on a single occasion."
Knowing exactly who the Auditor was referring to, a wry smile developed across the face of the scarred man. It had been years since his encounter with the pixie-haired barista, but she would invariably enter his thoughts whenever he found himself reminiscing about the days before he became a mercenary...
"Hindsight's twenty-twenty..." muttered the man, smiling sardonically as he scrolled through his various accomplishments, fuck ups, and wasted opportunities. In the end, however, he closed out of the screen, returning to the seemingly endless list of options that would shape his next life.
"Any recommendations?" asked the scarred man. "I'm kind of attached to my memories, so I'd rather not give them up."
"Of course," replied the Auditor. "If you Reincarnate to a world you have no prior knowledge of, particularly one where your knowledge would be useless, the cost diminishes considerably. Becoming a rock, tree, beast, or inanimate object is another option, but the most straightforward would be to enter a world filled with Reincarnators. However, as you specifically asked for my recommendation, I would advise against the latter. You lack the strength to survive more than a few years in such a world, and that's if you're unfortunate. The lucky ones die immediately..."
Adopting a wry smile, the scarred man stated, "I'd rather remain human. And just to be safe, I'd like to remain a guy."
Shrugging her shoulders, the Auditor replied, "There is also the option of becoming the champion or apostle of a god. You'd end up as their pawn, but you could have tremendous power and authority over other humans."
Shaking his head, the scarred man said, "As tempting as that sounds, I've never been into high fantasy or science fiction. Besides, I'm honestly tired of fighting. I will if I have to, but I'd prefer to take it easy this time. Maybe open a cafe or something..."
Bringing her finger to her chin, the Auditor hummed, "That's easier said than done. Retaining one's memories after death is a powerful advantage over others, so fate is bound to penalize you somehow. You could be born crippled, develop a chronic disease, lose your entire family in an accident, or be enslaved from birth. Either way, you're bound to experience at least 'some' suffering. The only way to avoid it or, more accurately, offset it is to form a contract with a higher power."
"Like you?" asked the scarred man.
Narrowing her abruptly crimson eyes, the Auditor licked her lips, her smile becoming uncannily wide as she mused, "Careful with your words, human. Most higher powers are not benevolent, regardless of their appearance or how they present themselves. I don't mind giving you a loan or providing you with my blessing, but depending on how you live, you could be stuck repaying me for the next ten-thousand years..."
"Any other options?" asked the scarred man, managing a smile despite the hair on his arms and the back of his neck standing on end.
Returning to normal, the Auditor replied, "Of course. The simplest option is to forsake your memories and choose a few options to stack the odds, however slightly, in your favor. However, if you're set on keeping them, I could...pull a few strings to make things interesting."
Though he had just been warned to be careful with his words, the scarred man replied, "Elaborate."
"Let me choose the world you'll be sent to, and I can guarantee you won't face any major tragedies before you mature," said the Auditor. "Other than being orphaned, of course."
Shrugging his shoulders, the scarred man replied, "So long as you don't throw me to some fantasy world, I don't mind letting you choose. As for being orphaned, it is what it is. I didn't have anyone I could call a parent in this world, so I can do without them in the next."
"Then go ahead and choose your other settings," said the Auditor. "Time doesn't flow in this space, so take as much as you need. After all, there's no changing your mind once you leave."
Nodding his head, the scarred man asked, "Got an extra seat? This might take a while."
Snapping her fingers, the Auditor created a hard, inflexible wooden chair for the scarred man to sit in. He was tempted to ask why she didn't give him one like hers, but rather than wasting time with idle chatter, he took a seat and spent what felt like days picking and choosing what he believed to be the most beneficial settings. This included investing 20,000 Karma toward skipping his early childhood, elementary, and middle school days, but he didn't consider it a waste as experiencing infancy and adolescence as an adult would have been a nightmare...
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"Class is not for sleeping, Yamada-kun," asserted the stern voice of a woman, followed by a light smack, presumably from the spine of a book.
"Hmmm...?"
Raising his head, a young man with messy brown hair and distinctive, amber-brown eyes stared blankly at the face of a petite, bespectacled woman with short brown hair and matching eyes. Contrasting her stern voice, the woman had delicate and kind features, but what confused the youth was the fact she resembled a character from a cartoon, albeit with more detail.
Before he could fully organize his thoughts, the youth responded, "Sorry, Ochi-san." in flawless Japanese, almost as though he had been speaking it his entire life.
Furrowing her brows, Ochi, full name Ochi Misato, asked, "What did I tell you about calling me Ochi-san? It's Ochi-sensei. Seeeenseeeei~!"
Instead of responding to the woman, the youth found himself habitually scanning his surroundings. Like the woman in front of him, everyone else in the class had a cartoonish appearance. Some even had ridiculous hair colors like bright orange.
Earning a concerned look from his teacher, the youth followed his cursory scan with an inspection of his hands, finding that they, too, possessed a distinctly cartoony quality.
"Are you okay, Yamada-kun? If you feel unwell, I can have someone guide you to the Nurse's office."
Though it was a good opportunity to gather his thoughts, Yamada, full name Ohta Yamada, replied, "That won't be necessary. I'm just a bit tired, that's all."
"Well, if you say so..." said Ochi, opening the book in her hand to continue her lesson, walking around the classroom as she cited a few passages in somewhat broken English. In her wake, Ohta immediately closed his eyes, this time sitting upright to avoid attracting attention as he organized his thoughts.
Fortunately, though he was a little confused at first, Ohta, translating to Eyes of the Almighty God, quickly discovered that he had an entire set of memories, beginning from around the time he was in Kindergarten. They were hazy and somewhat fragmented, like memories often were, but they felt familiar.
Furrowing his brows slightly, Ohta opened his eyes, shifting his gaze to the girl seated next to him to ensure she wasn't paying attention to him before turning to his open textbook, notebook, and pencil. There were a few 'abnormalities' within his memories, so he extended the fingers of his right hand toward his pencil, tensing slightly as a blue light surrounded it, followed by it automatically moving into his hand...
("Well, shit...")
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After three periods covering English, Math, and History, it was time for lunch. Ohta was planning to use that time to go up to the roof, but before he could leave the classroom, he was stopped by a short girl with boyish looks, short black hair that spiked outward at the sides, brown eyes, and a lean, athletic frame.
"Hey, you good?" asked the girl, registering within Ohta's mind as Arisawa Tatsuki, a girl he had known since elementary school.
"Yeah, I'm fine," replied Ohta. "I just overworked myself at the docks and overslept."
Crossing her arms, Tatsuki adopted a slight frown, but her eyes expressed concern as she asked, "Are you having trouble with money? I thought you saved up a bit over Winter and Spring Breaks?"
Shaking his head, Ohta replied, "Not really. It's just better to have more than depend on my savings to get by. College isn't going to pay for itself."
Exhaling an exasperated sigh, Tatsuki's frown deepened as she remarked, "That's what I don't get about you, Ohta. You have the skills to be the ace of the karate team, but you spend most of your time doing odd jobs. What gives?"
"Never underestimate the value of hard work," replied Ohta, adopting a faint smile as he added, "Besides, I already told you. I didn't learn martial arts to compete against brats."
Snorting through her nose, Tatsuki groaned, "Whatever..." before walking off in a huff, reuniting with a comparably curvaceous girl with big tits and bright orange hair.
Seeing Ohta looking over, the orange-haired girl, Inoue Orihime, adopted a somewhat awkward smile as she raised her hand and waved. Ohta was an outcast among the other students, regarded as a monster by local and neighboring delinquents, so most people gave him a very wide berth.
Exhaling a faint sigh through his nose, Ohta rose to his feet, departing the classroom without reciprocating Orihime's greeting. He had inherited the memories of the time he had skipped, so he knew the true reason he was a pariah. It wasn't because he could take on a group of delinquents alone. Rather, he had a secret that imperiled the lives of everyone around him...
Upon reaching the roof, usually locked and off-limits to students, Ohta took a moment to ensure he was alone before staring down at his hands. As he did so, blue energy began to gather around them, quickly gaining shades of pink and amethyst as a pattern reminiscent of a kaleidoscope formed around the edges.
Flexing his fingers with some effort, Ohta caused the 'space' around his digits to warp, followed by a distinctive black 'void' appearing in his palm. At the same time, the blue, pink, and purple aura spread across his body, protecting him and causing his hair to flutter as tiny fragments of stone and debris rose from the floor of the roof, drawn to the void as if it were a powerful magnet.
Crushing the void by closing his fist, a frown marred Ohta's face as he internally groaned, ("That damned Auditor. Why did she throw me into a world with invisible monsters and grant me psychic powers? How the hell am I supposed to live in peace?")
Recalling numerous instances of him encountering spirits and battling mask-wearing monsters with gaping holes in their chests, Ohta couldn't help exhaling a tired sigh. Even the previous night, while returning from one of his part-time jobs, a spider-like monster had materialized from the shadows to try and slice him in half with its mantis-like limbs...
Sitting in the shadows of the roof's parapet, Ohta did what he always did when faced with a strange, fucked up, or generally dangerous situation, forcibly calming himself as he organized his thoughts in order of priority. His psychic powers had manifested when he was a child, but the mask-wearing creatures had only started to appear fairly recently. There had to be a reason, and his past self had already started looking into it, marking his encounters with the creatures on a city map and periodically going on patrols to try and lure them out...
"Then that's what I'll do..." muttered Ohta, choosing to follow the path his past self had set for him. Possessing psychic powers wasn't an inherently bad thing. Rather, in a world filled with spirits and invisible monsters that could level buildings and toss cars around like toys, possessing powerful psychokinetic abilities was pretty handy...
Picking up a stone fragment with his mind, Ohta caused it to spin rapidly until the friction with the air caused it to heat up and melt. Then, with a simple thought, he shaped the molten stone into a fairly accurate figure of himself, grasping it with his bare hand but feeling no heat thanks to a thin but exceptionally powerful membrane of psychic energy.
"I can work with this..." muttered Ohta, adopting a faint smile. He already had the power, so rather than lamenting the fact he had been tricked, he decided to make the most of his second chance at life. If nothing else, he could at least go out with a bang by pulling an Akira...
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After three more periods of class, Ohta made his way to the apartment he had leased with the help of Tatsuki's mom, Fubuki. He originally lived in an orphanage, but after exhibiting his independence and willingness to work, he was allowed to move into an apartment in the months leading up to his first year in High School.
"I should stop by and say hi sometime..." muttered Ohta, recalling that it had been at least six weeks since his last visit to the Arisawa household. Fubuki had co-signed his lease, affording him much greater freedom, so he owed her that much.
As that thought crossed his mind, Ohta turned down an alleyway that served as a shortcut to his apartment, finding a familiar black cat staring at him from atop an eye-level fence.
Recalling the name he had given the cat in the past, Ohta adopted a smile and asked, "Enjoying a sunbath, Susu?" He was more of a dog person, but this particular cat had seemingly been stalking him since he was in middle school. He wasn't absolutely sure it was the same cat, but no other feline gave him the same, almost foreboding impression.
Instead of responding to Ohta's words, the distinctive black cap leaped away, disappearing on the opposite side of the fence. Ohta had tried to catch and lure it a few times in the past, but the moment it vanished from view, it disappeared entirely. It also didn't have the same aura as a spirit or living creature, so Ohta presumed it to be some kind of Yokai.
("And that's why I hate cats...") thought Ohta. It was clear that Susu had taken an interest in him, yet, even after two years, it wouldn't let him get anywhere near it. He even bought some high-quality Chura cat treats to try and get it to open up to him, but it just ran off like it had no interest in what he had to say or offer. The most annoying part was that the treats had disappeared from his schoolbag when he went to remove them at his apartment...
Unfortunately, as he couldn't 'sense' the strange black cat, Ohta couldn't use his telekinetic abilities to grab it. His intuition also warned him that trying wasn't a good idea, so his past self had avoided antagonizing Susu as a matter of course. With mask-wearing monsters running about and causing chaos, the last thing he needed was an angry Yokai or vengeful spirit haunting him...
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"I could get used to this..." muttered Ohta, standing in the air high above downtown Karakura while wearing a winter jacket, tinted goggles, and a beanie. It was currently mid-Spring, so it got pretty cold in the evenings, especially when you didn't have anything to protect against the frigid wind blowing in from the sea.
Though he could shield himself from the cold with his psychic energy, Ohta knew it was a finite resource. Using it to give him a better vantage was one thing, but expending it to keep himself warm was a waste. The cold also helped him stay focused and fight off fatigue, so he enjoyed the feeling of the evening air as he looked down at the streets below like the pathways of an ant terrarium...
Breaking Ohta from his thoughts, a wispy, reverberating 'scream' reached his ears, echoing like a bone flute formed from a predatory animal's skull. It was enough to cause a chill to permeate the body of a normal person, compelling them to stay away, but Ohta charged toward it, descending to the streets like a meteor just as a two-meter tall, goblin-like creature with a wiry body, inordinately long arms, and a bone-white mask attempted to devour a spirit resembling a small girl.
Landing in front of the girl, Ohta raised his hand, stopping the masked creature just as it lunged forward with its three-clawed, scimitar-like fingers. The same tri-colored aura surrounding his body prevented the masked monstrosity from moving so much as a centimeter, but that was just the beginning.
"Sorry, big fella, but this is going to hurt..." said Ohta, cracking a relaxed smile as he slowly closed his hand. As he did so, the body of the masked beast began to compress in on itself, pressurized black blood discharging from cracks that formed in its carapace-like body. A few seconds later, all that remained of the beast was a shadowy mass of gore forming a sphere no larger than a medicine ball. Ohta could compress it even further, but it would be a waste of energy.
Turning toward the pigtailed spirit, identifiable by the distinctive chain dangling from the center of her chest, the somewhat cruel smile faded from Ohta's face, replaced by a gentle expression as he said, "It's about time you moved on..."
Shrinking in on herself, the young girl fearfully replied, "I...I don't know how...I'm scared..."
Taking a knee, bringing himself to eye-level with the girl, Ohta gave her a gentle pat on the head as he said, "There's nothing to be afraid of. Death is just another part of life. I can't say for certain what's waiting for you on the other side, but dwelling here will only make you sad and lonely. Now, do you want me to escort you to a shrine, or do you think you can be a big girl and pass on properly...?"
"I'm still afraid..." replied the girl, tears building in the corners of her eyes. Seeing her caused Ohta to exhale internally, but he maintained his smile as he rose to his feet, extending his hand to the girl as he said, "Then let's get you someplace safe..."
Though she was initially hesitant, the pigtailed spirit eventually accepted Ohta's hand, accompanying him to one of the more famous shrines in the region. His past self had guided several spirits to the same location. There was no enshrined god or deities present, at least not that Ohta was aware of, but when spirits passed through the Tori gate at the base of the shrine, they abruptly vanished into motes of bluish-white light. He didn't know if this was the correct course of action, but he believed it was better than leaving them to mourn and suffer in obscurity, crying out to people and family members that could neither see nor hear them...
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Several hours after Ohta had already retired for the night, an inordinately petite woman with raven black hair and a peculiar, samurai-esque black outfit appeared atop a telephone poll, the moon appearing overlarge behind her as she stared in the direction of Karakura Town and muttered, "I sense a strong Spirit Energy..."
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Chapter 1: Going out with a Bang