I was never particularly interested in any kind of gambling.
That perception became even more firmly rooted once I understood how many lives it had ruined.
Even so, who would have thought that what would follow death would be, precisely, a gamble?
From a certain perspective, weren't gambling addicts, then, very religious people?
Jokes aside, I focused on what truly mattered.
Before me stretched a roulette wheel of immeasurable vastness, shimmering with an infinity of colors.
Beside it, a red button rested atop a lectern whose purpose I already knew.
I recalled the brief orientation session I had had with that suited man.
Our first meeting took place in what looked like a kind of office cubicle.
After that, he simply brought me here.
He described himself as a poorly paid office worker.
He didn't give me his name; I didn't really ask for it either.
Heaven seemed far more corporate than I had ever imagined.
"All I have to do is press the button, and they'll send me to some random place with a gift."
I murmured the instructions that had been given to me in this space.
The gift could range from firearms to fantasy powers.
I couldn't help but feel nervous.
After all, just imagine reincarnating in a place similar to Warhammer 40k.
Not only that, but the only thing you carry with you is a kitchen knife.
Well, whether it was a shitty outcome or not, I still had to do it.
I couldn't stand around like an idiot in this place forever.
I wouldn't suffer hunger or thirst, but I'm sure I'd eventually go insane.
Besides, I had already died once—this was just a stroke of luck.
So I didn't even mind if I ended up dying unfairly again.
Though I certainly didn't prefer it.
Resolved, I approached the lectern and pressed the red button without further hesitation.
Not before performing every ritual I knew to improve my luck.
I didn't have much at hand, but praying to different gods was still possible.
What followed was a scene of overwhelming beauty.
I was completely captivated by a spectacle that could never be repeated.
No film created by human hands could ever compare to this.
Of that, I was certain.
Come to think of it, I could have stayed here longer with such a view before me.
Then, the roulette finally stopped spinning and landed on a purple slot.
My eyes widened in pleasant surprise—and a hint of disappointment.
"This isn't bad at all—"
Before I could say anything else, everything went dark and I lost consciousness.
✦────✧────✦
"Let's solve for x, move the term to the other side, and continue…"
The gentle breeze coming in through the window was pleasant.
The math teacher's voice, not so much.
I was never good at this subject; in fact, I had something like a phobia.
But in this life, thanks to my past learnings, it was a much easier class.
Fortunately.
For that reason, when I entered university, I enrolled in the faculty of arts.
It wasn't something with much of a future, especially with the rise of AI.
Even so, I didn't regret it; it's not like I had great ambitions.
In my boredom, my mind drifted back to a week earlier.
To that moment when that window, straight out of a Korean manhwa, appeared.
Within it was a series of rather simple messages.
[The gift has been delivered.]
[We hope you enjoy your new life.]
That was all.
Back then, I was overwhelmed by immense joy and a fair amount of frustration.
I had spent my whole life—this whole life, actually—thinking I'd been scammed.
Of course, it didn't last long.
After all, how can you miss something that was never yours to begin with?
But after a few tests, I was able to confirm it hadn't been a hallucination.
Deadpool's regeneration had been granted to me.
Sure, it wasn't particularly extraordinary, but it wasn't something minor either.
Simple and straightforward.
Not to mention that, unlike my counterpart, I don't suffer from cancer.
As a consequence, my appearance didn't change at all.
Only the clean effects of regeneration applied to me.
I had no idea how it worked without the cancer, and frankly, I didn't care.
Regardless of that, in a modern society it would at the very least secure my life.
Truck-kun, not this time.
After living 15 years in Japanese society, you learned many things.
Some useful, others not so much.
For example,
Discovering that this world was a parallel land to the one I had once known.
The changes weren't many, to be honest—but they weren't few either.
The differences were large and varied enough to be noticeable.
One of them lay in entertainment products like series or movies.
Here, in Land 2—very original, I must say—Breaking Bad didn't exist.
At first, I thought about using that to my advantage to become a famous director.
Or a writer—whatever made me more money. However, there was a problem.
My memory wasn't good enough to pull something like that off.
It was a plan that was discarded as quickly as it arose, unfortunately.
Besides, too much time had already passed.
As my mind wandered, the bell signaled the end of class.
Math class really did resemble a form of torture.
That said, not the worst kind—like being burned alive inside a bronze bull.
Yes, I was probably exaggerating. Quite a bit, in fact.
And thinking about it more carefully, aren't I now capable of surviving even that?
The pain would still exist, but on the whole, it was irrelevant.
My lips curled upward at the sense of security that filled me.
Then I stretched, feeling a kind of release. "It's finally over~"
A small laugh was heard. "You really don't like Professor Tanaka's class."
"Well, I'm not the only one, right?" I replied in a casual, relaxed tone.
Other classmates looked equally freed from the torture.
In the seat to my right, a girl looked at me with a subtle smile.
Tsumiki Fushiguro.
She was a slender, tall young woman.
She had black hair that fell past her shoulders.
She usually wore it tied in a ponytail, with two loose strands framing the front.
And, as always, I couldn't help that persistent feeling that I had met her before.
Though I didn't know why.