The drive to Kuoh Academy didn't take all that long.

It was awkward, sure, considering this was the first time I've met the vice-president. But it was pretty comfy, considering they were driving me around in a black E-Class. Almost felt like I was back home, being driven by the new little brothers of the group.

I didn't really think much about that though.

Most of my thoughts went to Hanakai.

I didn't really know her that well. Hell, I just met her the day before, so I didn't even think we're close or anything.

But there was a difference in how you'd feel if you found out something bad happened to an acquaintance versus a complete stranger. There was a difference in how you'd feel for a person you've managed to vibe with versus some fucker you haven't talked to.

She was a friend, and in my books, I had the right to worry about her no matter how long—or in this case, how short—the time we spent together may have been.

Especially when there was a chance I was connected to what hurt her.

There weren't supposed to be Cursed Energy, or Cursed Spirits, or fucking Jujutsu Sorcerers in High School DxD. In the first place, Jujutsu Kaisen and DxD were in completely different genres, with contrasting narrative tones.

I had a couple of theories as to the why's and how's.

The first possibility could be a world merge. Big staple in western amateur fiction and shit. Never really got into that stuff though, 'cause while I admit I may have been a big weeb, I haven't really gotten into that shit since I only got this into nerd stuff after I retired from doing dirty work after what happened to the boss two years ago.

Moving on, I didn't think that was what happened here though. If Jujutsu Kaisen and DxD did merge, then there must be some sort of hidden Jujutsu society for all its sorcerers. But when I was asking Azazel about this world, I didn't hear anything about that. Azazel was Azazel. He was one of the most brilliant minds of this universe, and the director of an organization that spanned the world despite not being as large as the Underworld or as spread out as the Church. He would've heard of it if there was a whole-ass Jujutsu society in the underground.

There would've been border clashes, wars, all that stuff that just wouldn't be flying under the radar. You couldn't move weight on the street with your boys without people hearing about it, and believe me, with what Azazel told me about the scope of Grigori, they definitely would've heard about it.

The second was more plausible. There was someone else with access to the system and to Deus Ex Machina.

After all, if I was given Cursed Energy just like that, then what's stopping the system from giving shit like Cursed Techniques to the other players of this shitty game as well?

"—We've arrived, Tsukigawa-san." Tsubaki said, her voice shaking me out of my thoughts.

I looked outside the window.

It was a nice place. Polished black fences combined with marble walls made the school feel more like some fancy bank than a place where kids learned how to count and shit.

But no matter how nice it was, it didn't really matter.

I didn't come here to sightsee.

—I stepped out of the car without saying a word, following the vice-president out of the passenger seat as she thanked the driver, making her way across the campus as soon as she did so.

I know the show grouped her up with the older girls in terms of popularity, but seeing it was something else. Everywhere we went, people greeted her with a bow, making way for her with smiles on their faces. She didn't even smile, she just nodded and greeted them back, but they were acting like she was someone from TV or something.

Just goes to show how different we were. I didn't finish high school, I got my GED in my early twenties, but I've never seen people glaze someone this hard.

Then again, back in my old life, shit was like this too. Hell, you see a lot of this in the Vtuber communities, with all these parasocial relationships where people start falling in love with the characters these people have made, or in Discord servers where people start e-dating people whose faces they've never even seen.

When people are lonely, they do anything to fill the holes in their hearts, and when it comes to loneliness? I've never seen people take it as it is and turn it into the norm like the Japanese.

You see it in fast food places here, where there were a lot more solo seats than there were booths or large tables. You see it in the salarymen that walk the streets of this place at night, shuffling around like zombies in pursuit of more success.

But, hell, what do I know? I didn't even go to school properly.

Eventually, we found ourselves in front of some big-ass door made of fancy-looking dark wood.

"The president's waiting for you inside." Tsubaki said, crossing her arms.

"...anything I should know?" I asked cautiously.

Tsubaki raised an eyebrow, giving me a look I couldn't place.

"The president is strict, but understanding. Just tell the truth and treat her with respect, and she will do the same."

"...okay. Fine. Sure."

There weren't really shit like student councils from where I was from, so I didn't know what to expect.

Should I treat her like a teacher? A buddy?

Personally, I'd just chill and talk to her normally, but shit, I was a visitor.

This wasn't my home. I didn't think this was ever gonna be my home.

In my eyes, I lost my home when I died in that intersection. I lost my fight years ago, and I lost my home. There wasn't any replacing that.

"Tsukigawa-san."

I turned to look at Tsubaki.

"What?"

"...it's nothing. I apologize. Good day, Tsukigawa-san." She said, leaving as elegantly as she came in.

I started walking after Tsubaki turned and left, opening the door for myself and stepping into the room.

For a moment, I wondered what her deal was. But, well, I had more pressing concerns.

The room itself was big. Really big. Furnished with a chandelier, the dark wood of the room that housed the Kuoh Student Council clued me in to how ostentatious this school really was.

Everything in this room screamed old money. Expensive-looking paintings of people, antique globes, table runners, and velvet curtains that drape over the massive windows that lined the wall, it was everything I thought it was.

Seeing Sona Sitri sitting at the head of the table, back straight and head held high like a queen from an age long past just drove that image home even more.

The petite demoness stood up, offering a handshake.

"Mr. Tsukigawa. I thought I had a decent handle on the people that come to Kuoh, but you were quite the surprise." She said in perfect English.

"My father likes to play it safe. A little bit too safe, I ain't gonna lie. It's nice to meet you, miss…?" I trailed off deliberately, waiting for her to finish my sentence herself as I shook her hand.

"As what fathers are wont to do, adopted or otherwise. You may call me Sona Sitri." She responded, betraying no emotion.

I smiled to keep things civil and polite as we both sat down, but I knew the bell had already rung.

She definitely looked me up. She knew I was a foreigner, and she knew the way I got to Kuoh was unconventional to say the least.

She also knew Azazel wasn't my real father, especially with that little jab near the end.

But, well, I still had cards to play.

"Sona, then. I ain't opposed to just shooting the shit, but I'm guessing that's not why you brought me here, is it?" I said, wasting no time to get to the meat of the matter.

Sona's eyes narrowed at that.

With the way she was setting all these up, all these projections of power and shit and how she tied it all together to her heritage by revealing her real name and hinting at me belonging to the supernatural side by doing so, it implied she didn't know who Azazel really was. It implied she hadn't seen through our cover, and it implied she didn't know about the comings and goings of her slice of the pie as well as she thought.

But most of all, it implied she didn't have much dirt on my ass. If she did, she would've brought him up as a way to put the ball in her court.

And with me immediately stepping away from the pace she set and essentially flipping the board over, I showed her I could play too.

We sat there for what seemed like several moments, just looking at each other and waiting for the other person to start playing again.

I wasn't gonna talk. In my experience, the moment I give people an inch, they start taking the whole mile. I wasn't opposed to giving her what she wanted, but if she was gonna squeeze me for what I was worth, then I was gonna get everything I'm owed while I'm at it.

"...indeed." She shifted in her seat, flipping through one of the folders on her desk before sliding it my way.

Guess we weren't playing games anymore.

I took it, flipping it open as I looked at an assorted mess of police statistics, grainy pictures, and written testimonies.

"A month ago, my contacts in the police department reported a concerning rise in missing people in downtown Kuoh." She began, pausing to see if I was paying attention as I read the file on her desk.

"I first thought it was nothing the police couldn't handle on their own. So I asked some of the members of my Peerage to help out and investigate. But I was wrong."

From the way she grimaced at the mere memory of it, I could more or less tell how much her mistake had affected her. I was willing to cut her some slack considering how nice she was in the anime and in the light novels, but time and time again, the fact that this reality wasn't the same as its fictional counterpart kept on being hammered into me with each day I spent on this earth.

"They met and fought a student from Kuoh."

"...a student?" I asked.

Sona nodded.

I was confused at first. A student? When it came to combat prowess, Sona's Peerage was no slouch from what I remember. She was part of the top four when it came to the Devils of her generation, and most of that acclaim came from her sharp mind and her talent for strategy.

Even without Saji, her Peerage could probably beat the Occult Research Club as they are now seven times out of ten; considering they wouldn't have Issei nor Asia 'till next year.

So, a random student managing to beat three members of the Student Council? That was fucking impossible.

Unless…

My thoughts went to the department store. The zombies.

That fucking monster with Blood Manipulation.

"Satō Shirayuki had no relations to our side of the fence. She wasn't descended from a famous hero, nor did she have a non-human lineage. She was, by all accounts, a normal girl. But when Tsubaki found her, she had the ability to generate and control flames." Sona continued, her glasses glinting under the light of the chandelier.

"So, you're saying someone gave her that power somehow." I said.

The student council president nodded, before gazing right at me.

"It was someone who could give her a strange form of energy we've never seen before. Someone with the same strange powers as that monster from last night. Someone with the same type of energy that you possess an abundance of."

She leaned forward.

"Momo-san has told me of your temperament, and while I consider her a good judge of character, I know very little of you. So, tell me, Finn Tsukigawa. Who exactly are you?"

"I…" I paused for a moment.

What could I even say?

Who was I? The fuck kinda question was that?

Should I tell her what I told Mai?

From my experience, that didn't turn out too well.

While it was the whole truth, it was something that was far removed from the sensibilities of this world. And with how smart Sona was, I thought she would give me a more visceral response than what Mai showed.

After all, the more knowledge you have of your own surroundings and your place in the reality you're working in, the more you'd want to keep the sense of stability that knowledge provides you with.

I saw it all the time in my previous line of work. Ex-military and former LEOs forgot how the street works from time to time, thinking they still had the backing and the budget of the organizations they came from, and that their training would take them all the way to getting with the boss. Boxers and former cage fighters forget they ain't fighting in the ring no more, they were dealing with hardened thugs that wouldn't hesitate to spit in your eye and stab you when you ain't looking.

Hell, even I fell victim to that shit when I retired. I thought I could just steamroll the competition and get our garage into making and modifying cars for celebrities like we were Shelby or something.

I thought I could just take it easy in this world because I knew how the plot was gonna push the main cast around.

In the end, only being faced with clear proof that life doesn't work that way was the only way to change people's minds when it came to shit like this.

And at this moment, I didn't have that.

"...I'm no one. I'm not connected to any of the families in the Underworld. I'm not part of the Church. I'm not some wizard or anything like that."

I looked at my hand, before looking right into Sona's eyes.

"I'm a hundred percent sure I ain't a part of the fuckers giving kids Cursed Techniques. I promise you that. I just… found myself with this shit.." I chuckled in self-deprecation.

"But, I'll tell you what's what."

So, I did. I told her that Cursed Energy was essentially negative emotions taking the form of energy, capable of building up over time in structures, objects, or even people through their lineage or just sheer aptitude with the power source.

I told her that Cursed Techniques was a type of power that pops up in people with high quantities of Cursed Energy, allowing them to use that shit in combat by inducing supernatural phenomena.

But I still couldn't answer her question properly.

Despite being street trash, I valued the truth. Truth was the foundation of your reputation, it was the main shit that constitutes how you're perceived, it was something I got very little of outside of my own family.

And above all else, I didn't want to be the type of trash that would tell the seven-year-old kid they've neglected to take care of his two siblings until they come back from winning it big in Atlantic City, only to die in a fucking ditch in the middle of nowhere.

I didn't like straying from my principles, so I tried not to do it here. But, then again, what the fuck were my principles these days anyway?

I wasn't some two-bit half-Asian gangster anymore. I wasn't a mechanic, I wasn't even Finn Tsukigawa, who was an older brother to two great kids. I was dead. Everything I've lived for, everything I've fought for, now in a place I can't fucking reach.

No matter how much I tried to distract myself by finding a new direction, or playing with this fucking system, or meeting the characters from this shitty series, I couldn't do that anymore.

I didn't like it when things started going off the rails like this.

I didn't like it when the system forced me into going into that department store.

I didn't like it when shit like people, the system, and whatever's behind that fucking thing in the first place start fucking me over.

All I was these days was a useless amalgamation of swears and dislikes. Easily triggered by minor shit that probably wouldn't even elicit a reaction from me back when I was alive.

So, all the bullshit, all the bluster, the complaints, and all the fucking bravado aside, who the fuck was I?

After talking to Sona, I managed to work out something resembling an agreement. She wasn't gonna do anything bad to me despite me technically having snuck in, but considering I was trying to get into her school, she wanted me to participate in her investigations regarding these people in exchange.

I said yes to all that, and more.

I was gonna do the exact same shit anyway.

So, I walked right in there, going right into the same alley I went into the last time as the sun was about to go down.

Surrounded by the shadows of dusk, creeping in like snakes crawling amidst the tall grass, I gazed into that door, remembering what happened the night before.

—At first, this was all a quest for me.

I didn't have any stakes. I didn't really have anything to lose except for the system, and even then, who'd give a fuck? As far as I knew, except for the JJK shit, everything remained the same.

But when I got pressed by an actual threat, I turned back and walked away. I walked back with my tail tucked behind my waistband and my dick fucking squeezed by the gorilla grip of fear and this overwhelming feeling of incompetence.

That wasn't me. That could never be me. I may have been lost, but that couldn't be me. All my life, I've had to fight to the next level, to bite and scratch my way to my next paycheck, to fucking kill if I had to just to take that bag home.

I was scared to die.

I didn't remember much, but I could still remember what I last saw. What I last felt. The feeling of broken glass piercing my skin like jagged daggers, the ever-encroaching cold juxtaposed with the searing heat of the burning car, the sound of sirens and countless horns honking amidst the crackling flames.

But what was worse was the feeling of leaving them behind. Leaving them just like how our parents left us all those years ago, when they were my only reason for living for so fucking long.

Lyle the troublemaker. Erin the ball of sunshine.

They were what made all those late nights so bearable. They were what made all the blood on my hands feel worth it in the end.

Losing them felt worse than the mangling numbness of the car's burning steel as it crushed my limbs into paste on the pavement.

But I'd rather face all that again than turn back here and whine about it later.

It didn't matter if I was afraid.

It didn't matter if my motives were shallow.

It didn't matter if I had no gun, no Cursed Energy, or no backup.

If I turned back here, the fragments of what constituted Finn Tsukigawa, the broken shards of who I was that I lost the day I died, they'd all be left behind to burn in that fucking inferno.

I owed it to myself. I owed it to my family. I owed it to the people I killed, that even if Finn Tsukigawa were to burn in hell, he'd keep on moving forward anyway.

—I opened that door, and stepped inside the Rokuonji Department Store, kukri in my right and a flashlight on the other..

It didn't matter if there wasn't a quest anymore.

I was open to helping Sona, but I didn't need no help.

I'd rather do it myself.

AN: And thus, we enter the final part of the Department Store arc. Let's dive into that dungeon and do some self-discovery.

Sorry for taking this long, bros. I had to switch out half of this shit because I felt like it detracted too much from the tone I wanted to write. This is my first proper arc in so long, and man am I unsatisfied with most of this in terms of quality and all the story beats I've missed, but at the same time, I feel content with how this is actually shaping up. Thank y'all for giving ASC a chance, I very much appreciate it, and I also appreciate the mfs taking the time to comment and shit, so lemme respond real quick to all my comments so far. I haven't been able to do so, since I've been having to write most of the chapters on Google Docs and publishing them all on my phone LMAO. I'm on my PC now though, so here:

shypunk:(re) Thanks for the consistent comments bro, hope you've enjoyed these so far.

Guikoi: (re) Thanks, bro. I tried exploring Azazel in a direction I don't think we really saw as much as him just being a total chad, so I hope that sentiment remains the same 'till after we see the mf again in the next arc. Thanks for reading, bruh!

Discipline01: (re) Thanks for saying my writing's interesting, I gotta admit I rarely write in first-person, so all this is extremely jarring for me LMAO. It goes against my actual writing style, but it's definitely a good challenge. Hope you've been enjoying this as much as I am writing all this. And yeah, I tried to give Finn an appropriate level of pride that goes with his background without going into the route the more morally gray entries in the fandom took in terms of characterization, although in this sense, him blowing up at Mai's more or less better explained in this chapter (I hope!). Thanks again, bro!

EpicNinjaFWRY: (re) Ay bro, thanks for reading this. And yeah, I bet it did feel familiar LMAO (definitely didn't steal Mahito's Transfigured Humans and combine it with Mr. X from the RE remake with that one). Hope you've enjoyed all this so far.

Morgrif: (re) Hey, bro, thanks for reading all this! Sorry for making you feel lost. In Finn's case, I don't think he really gives a shit about being safe all that much, and he's more of a guy that's stuck in the past more than anything else. At the end of the day, just like most people, he gravitates towards a line of thinking that's more in line with what's familiar than what's logically sound, and in his case, what's familiar is going into things out of impulse disguised as logically-driven decisions.

Also, I'd like to weigh in more on the system, but I do get your criticisms regarding that part of the story considering the implications make the cost of failure kinda redundant if you think about it. But in the first place, I've always designed this story's system to be very barebones and imperfect, and there's a reason for that, which I won't get into until the story develops enough to a point where it would make sense for me to reveal the reason why that is. I do hope you've enjoyed the other aspects of the story though! Thank you.

That's all the time I got, folks. I'm gonna head to bed after this, so thank y'all. I appreciate y'all immensely, and I hope to see y'all again on the next one!