Believe me, I'm a lucky guy.
If after an unjust death you experience transmigration and, as a bonus, are granted a random "Stand", it would be strange not to feel fortunate.
Once again, I thanked the ROB in charge for giving me this opportunity with what seemed like a free benefit.
Though, wait... isn't that a bit too suspicious?
Well, there's not much I can do about it. I shrugged. After all, I'm just an ordinary human.
Or at least I was. I think.
In any case, having been a good person in my past life was undoubtedly the right decision.
Although, technically, I'm still alive, so that doesn't quite add up...
Or does it?
I chuckled to myself, trying not to dwell too much on the paradoxes of my new existence.
I looked around from the exit of an alley; I don't know why the previous owner of this body was here.
This place doesn't look anything like the Big Apple. Where had I seen something like this before? I paused to reflect and remembered: Japan.
The land of otaku culture, manga-filled shelves, maid cafés, and red torii gates leading to shrines.
But where exactly?
Seeing a city full of small, modern houses crammed together and surrounded by trees didn't help much in locating myself.
Curious, I took out my phone and, after a quick search, I found it. I muttered, "Sendai City, capital of Miyagi Prefecture. Interesting."
So, what's next?
The usual thing would be to quickly adopt my new identity and aim to reach the pinnacle of life. Or something like that, I guess.
Unfortunately, this wasn't the typical, or at least not entirely, transmigration you'd find in web novels or fanfics. So, a critical problem arose.
My current identity.
Transmigration, as a general rule, usually includes in its beginner's package: the memories of the previous owner of the body.
'Alright. Let's start there.'
With a new goal set (or rather, a vague idea of what I should do), I left the alley where I woke up and embarked on the tedious task of uncovering the life of Haruno Shiobana.
※ ※ ※
Do you know what bingo is?
No?
Don't worry, I'll explain it to you in an easy and simple way!
Eh, you don't want to know?
Too bad. Surely, when your kids no longer want to bother with you, you'll end up in a place where that's the bread and butter.
So, I'll do you a favor and explain it quickly. It'll definitely come in handy. At some point. For sure.
So, bingo is a game of chance where participants receive cards with randomly distributed numbers.
A moderator, known as the "caller," draws numbers at random and announces them out loud.
Then, players mark the numbers that match the ones on their card.
The goal is to complete a horizontal, vertical, or diagonal line, or even fill the entire card, depending on the rules.
When someone achieves the required pattern, they shout "Bingo!" and win the corresponding prize.
And you might be wondering, what's the point of all this?
Good question.
You see, in the vast and extensive culture of the internet, there are several clichés that have been used to the point of exhaustion.
They're clichés, after all.
One of them is reincarnation or transmigration. I, now Haruno Shiobana, fit this to a T.
Not only that, but to make it even more cliché, it was a ROB who gave me this opportunity.
Add to that a cheat-like ability.
But, to be honest, I still don't know exactly how it works or if it's even remotely useful.
Another cliché is instantly receiving the orphan certificate. The best part? The author avoids a lot of annoying things with it.
Moreover, the world I'm in now is a parallel one. Though this one, in particular, has something especially strange, I must mention.
I don't know what, but something—some monsters, some things, invisible to everyone except me, are roaming around here and there.
Their appearances? Grotesque. Unpleasant. Terrifying.
Some have deformed bodies, as if they were molded by clumsy and rushed hands, with limbs twisted at impossible angles.
Others look like amalgamations of flesh, with mouths opening where they shouldn't, with smiles that promise nothing good.
Some crawl, slithering with jerky movements, as if every step caused them unbearable pain.
Others float, suspended in the air, with heads too big for their bodies and eyes that glow with a cold, empty light.
Some seem straight out of nightmares, with translucent skin that reveals black veins and pulsating organs.
Others are covered in scars that never heal, oozing a dark, thick liquid.
I could go on like this all day, really.
So far, I've been able to ignore them relatively easily, luckily, trying to avoid any interaction or approach.
Of course, the doubt still lingers: what are those things? Are they dangerous? A part of me says yes.
Finally, and least spectacularly.
In this new identity, I discovered that I was bullied by some harassers for lacking parents and not having much to my name.
Oh, look, my card is completely filled.
So you probably already know what's going to happen, but I still have to say it. It's the rules, after all.
"BINGO!"