Arjun had always believed that if someone watched enough anime, something strange was bound to happen eventually, and for many years he had half-joked that dying would probably send him to another world rather than to a hospital bed.
Unfortunately, belief alone did not make the truck any less painful.
It was raining lightly that day, and Arjun was crossing the road while watching an anime clip on his phone, completely focused on the dramatic background music and flashing colours on the screen, when he suddenly heard someone shout his name from far away.
He looked up.
There was a truck.
A very real truck.
For a strange and unusually calm moment, Arjun had the thought, So Truck-kun really exists after all.
Then everything went dark.
When Arjun opened his eyes again, he was no longer lying on the road, nor was he floating in a divine space filled with light and chanting voices like the stories always described. Instead, he found himself sitting on a slightly uncomfortable plastic chair inside a plain white room that looked far more like a government office than the afterlife.
The walls were white but dull, the lighting was far too bright, and the entire place carried a heavy feeling of boredom and routine, as if countless people had passed through here before him.
Across from him stood a desk, and behind that desk sat a man who looked like he had not slept properly in years. He wore a cheap suit, his tie was crooked, and his glasses were cracked and held together with tape.
The man was reading a very thick file, slowly flipping through its pages as though he had performed this exact task far too many times already.
"Name?" the man asked without looking up.
"Arjun," he replied automatically.
"Cause of death?"
"…Truck."
The man nodded, finally lifting his head slightly. "Yes. That happens a lot."
Arjun glanced down at his hands, noticing that they looked perfectly normal, before carefully asking the most important question on his mind.
"So… I'm dead?"
"Yes," the man replied flatly.
"Oh," Arjun said, taking that information far better than expected.
The man closed the file and rested his elbows on the desk.
"My name is Denver," he said. "I work for the #%&@&*$@#. You probably wouldn't understand it, so just think of me as a staff member appointed by THE R.O.B."
Arjun blinked. "So… you're not a robot?"
Denver's eye twitched. "No. I am a civil servant."
That explained everything.
Denver picked up another document and continued in a tired voice. "How strange. Very ordinary life… yet extraordinary karma. Nonetheless, you qualify for premium reincarnation, which means you will be reborn into another world. As compensation for the inconvenience of dying early, you are allowed three wishes. Do not waste them. To earn even a single wish normally, one must save the world several times to gather enough karma."
Arjun's heart beat a little faster, though he tried very hard to stay calm.
"Three wishes," he repeated carefully, completely ignoring the last sentence.
"Yes, three," Denver confirmed. "There are rules, so do not aim for divinity or world-destroying wishes."
He paused and muttered quietly, "With such an ordinary life, I really wonder how you earned so much karma."
Arjun nodded seriously. "I understand completely."
After thinking for a short moment, Arjun raised one finger.
"For my first wish, I want unlimited growth potential. No talent caps, no ceilings, and no point where I stop getting stronger as long as I keep training."
Denver typed something onto a floating screen that appeared beside him, his expression unchanged.
"Limit Breaker," he muttered. "Passive ability. Growth through effort. Approved."
Arjun relaxed slightly.
"For my second wish," he continued, "I want a simple status screen with an inventory. No quests, no forced missions, and nothing that talks back to me."
Denver sighed softly. "Minimalist system. Non-sentient. Approved."
Arjun smiled.
"And for my third wish," he said slowly, leaning back in his chair, "I want the ability to break the wall between worlds and travel the multiverse."
This time, Denver stopped typing.
He looked up and stared at Arjun for several long seconds.
"Why?" he finally asked.
"Because I'm a weeb," Arjun replied honestly.
Denver frowned. "That is too risky. However… if you accept a world-level quest from Gaia, only then will this ability activate. We cannot have a multiverse catastrophe just because you want to go sightseeing."
"That sounds fair," Arjun said.
Denver rubbed his face and stamped the document. "Wall Breaker approved, but locked until you have enough soul strength to survive using it."
"Alright," Arjun replied.
Before Denver could say anything else, alarms suddenly rang throughout the room as red lights flashed and multiple screens appeared in the air.
ERROR
HOST STATUS: CRITICAL
IMMEDIATE TRANSFER REQUIRED
Denver's expression changed instantly.
"Oh no," he muttered.
Arjun leaned forward. "Oh yes?"
Denver scanned the information quickly, his face growing paler with every passing second. "Magical world. British. Child. Recently deceased…"
Arjun frowned. "That sounds oddly specific."
Denver swallowed. "Name: Harry Potter."
Arjun's mind froze.
"…That Harry Potter?"
"Yes."
"With the Dark Lord Voldemort?"
"Yes."
"Harry Potter is dead?"
"Yes. Or he will be by the time I send you there."
"Then Neville can be the Chosen One. Why all the alarms? And why must I go?"
"You don't understand," Denver said grimly. "It's not just about the Chosen One. That world is close to the Nexus. A Harry Potter is instrumental in the wars to come."
"Wars?" Arjun repeated. "As in plural?"
"Yes."
Arjun stood up. "Damn it. Is this a crossover? Does knowing the plot still count? I would like to cancel my reincarnation—"
"No time," Denver said, already activating the process.
Reality did not wait for permission.
Arjun felt himself pulled forward, not into a body, but beside one, floating next to a small and badly injured boy lying inside a dark cupboard, barely breathing.
The child was thin, bruised, and clearly only seven years old.
Arjun also felt something else.
Something cold, sharp, and hateful that did not belong.
"Oh," Arjun said quietly. "That's Voldemort's soul fragment."
Arjun focused inward and entered the boy's soul space. He did not take over the body. Instead, his soul collided directly with the Dark Lord's fragment, and a fierce struggle began.
For hours, an ordinary human soul and a corrupted magical soul battled for dominance.
Arjun was losing.
He knew it.
The dark soul knew it.
It was only a matter of time.
"Don't give up," a small voice said from the far corner of the soul space.
Arjun turned.
There stood a young Harry Potter, alive, bright-eyed, and smiling.
"You're not dead?" Arjun asked, stunned.
Harry tilted his head. "I don't know, mister. One moment I felt like I was about to be eaten, and then you came and fought that dark thingy. I feel safe now. Are you a hero?"
Despite the situation, Arjun felt something tighten in his chest.
"I'm not a hero," Arjun said softly. "But I always wanted to be one."
He paused, then smiled.
"Go hide, Harry. Close your eyes and count to one hundred. When you're done, everything will be okay."
Harry nodded without hesitation and ran.
Watching the small soul disappear, Arjun turned toward the dark presence and grinned.
"I win, dorky."
Then he detonated his soul.
The parasitic soul never stood a chance.
PARASITIC SOUL REMOVED
HOST SOUL DESTROYED — SEARCHING FOR NEW HOST
SYSTEM TRANSFERRED
HOST SOUL DAMAGED
GATHERING SOUL PARTICLES FOR HEALING
Harry Potter survived.
Arjun faded away, satisfied.
Far away, Denver stared at the new document with a familiar name.
"Shit. He died already. I'm getting demoted for this," he muttered. "But who would have thought he earned his karma like that? At least his true soul survived and went to meet THE R.O.B. Even I haven't met my boss's boss. Lucky dog."