Hey.
Yeah, you.
You're probably wondering, "Who the hell is this guy and why is he talking to me from what looks like a glowing courtroom full of monks and anime cultists?"
Trust me, I'm wondering the exact same thing.
Let me catch you up.
I just got reincarnated.
How did I die?
You won't believe this.
I got hit by a truck.
A literal truck. aka Truck-Kun's Special Delivery
Playing a Skibidi Toilet Arabic remix.
At full volume.
With bass so strong it probably shook heaven's gates.
Yeah. That's how I died.
A musical war crime was my funeral song.
You might be thinking, "Wow, what a stupid way to die."
Well guess what? It gets better.
Now I'm in a fantasy world where aura is everything.
You want power? Aura.
Money? Aura.
Love? Aura.
Social acceptance? Also aura.
Basic human rights? Probably aura.
And guess what?
I have less than none.
Like, negative aura.
So now, I'm literally about to be executed for being a vibe killer.
I'm not even joking.
They call it "vibe contamination." I'm public enemy number one because I can't spiritually rizz up a plant.
But before we get to my glorious public execution, I guess I should introduce myself.
My name's Yomen.
I'm 28.
Not married.
Not successful.
Not dead—wait, okay, yes I was dead. I'm still figuring that part out. Technically I'm on my second life, and somehow it's even more chaotic than the first.
Back on Earth, I was your classic "average guy who thinks he's below average."
Mild depression? Check.
Low self-esteem? Check.
Coworkers who said I had potential? Also check.
A boss who did nothing but breathe and complain about everything? Triple check.
I worked at a giant mobile company, one of those big names where you're basically a cog in the corporate hell-wheel.
You know the type—fluorescent lights, fake smiles, and PowerPoints that kill your soul a little more each time.
I was working 10-hour days for a guy whose only superpower was replying "K" to emails and somehow taking credit for every idea.
Now, I know what you're thinking:
"Oh, so you were just another sad office guy who died and got isekai'd?"
Yes.
But also, I had one thing that made me different.
One very specific trait:
I absolutely HATE brainrot.
I don't mean like "oh haha TikTok bad."
No no. I mean deep philosophical hatred of brainrot.
The kind of disgust where you see a 7-year-old kid flossing while watching Skibidi Toilet memes on an iPad and your soul physically leaves your body.
I used to argue with my sister—like full-on, dramatic anime fights—because she let her kid watch that garbage.
She'd be like,
"Relax, it's just dumb fun!"
And I'd be standing there, frothing at the mouth like,
"DO YOU WANT TO RAISE A GOBLIN? A BRAINROT ENGINEER? HE'S SEVEN, NOT SEVENTEEN!"
I gave PowerPoint lectures at family dinners about how letting your child consume content that sounds like a microwave having a seizure is a direct path to moral collapse.
But of course, no one listened.
"Yomen's just being dramatic," they said.
"He's just bitter because he's single," they whispered.
Well who's bitter now?
The dude who got hit by a Skibidi truck and woke up in an aura economy where emotional damage is literal currency?
Me.
Still me.
But I'm technically gaining aura now by making people cringe, so jokes on you, Aunt Salma.
Anyway. That's me.
The spiritual equivalent of a wet sock in a world where everyone else is a glowing demigod.
I have no aura.
No rizz.
No bitches.
But somehow, I'm still here.
And you know what?
That's a win.
"—WILL YOU SHUT UP ALREADY?!"
Yomen jumped.
A deep, pissed-off voice thundered through the arena like a rage-powered foghorn.
He blinked and looked around.
The judge, glowing with enough aura to fry a pigeon at twenty meters, was glaring directly at him.
"Stop monologuing! Who are you even talking to?! The gods? The walls?! Yourself?!"
Yomen hesitated. "...the audience?"
"There is no audience, you idiot! This is a courtroom, not a livestream! You're talking to the air like you're possessed by a budget anime narrator!"
A monk in the back nodded. "Honestly, I thought he was summoning something."
The judge facepalmed so hard a beam of light cracked behind him.
Yomen raised a hand, calm as ever. "Okay but… am I still getting executed? Or…?"
The judge's eyebrow twitched. "Yes. Yes, you're still getting executed."
A panel popped up in front of Yomen.
[Clown's Blessing: Aura +21]
Sources: Public Confusion (x2), Embarrassed Monk (x1), Narrator Breakdown (x1), Judge's Pain (x1)
Yomen grinned.
Still climbing.
Still embarrassing.
Still… alive.