Chapter 2
Two years have passed since my reincarnation. Days at Akai Orphanage keep rolling by like clockwork.
I’m locked into my bodyweight routine now.
Back, shoulders, arms, chest, legs—classic five-day split.
I annihilate each muscle group on its assigned day, then while those fibers go through supercompensation during recovery (that sweet muscle soreness), I move on to destroying the next target.
Maximum training efficiency.
Hitting the same muscle group while it’s still screaming from yesterday’s session? That’s amateur hour. Actually counterproductive.
You let the muscles fully recover, then tear them down and push them to complete failure again. This is Training 101—the most fundamental rule in the game.
Obviously I never skip wrist curls, grip work, or abs either.
“Director! Ikaku’s doing push-ups again, sweating buckets!”
“He looks like he’s about to collapse... his eyes aren’t even focused!”
“Just leave him alone. There’s something wrong with that boy.”
How rude. What’s wrong with pushing to the absolute limit?
There’s that saying about “going until you drop,” right?
I’m just living it.
This is my approach—the Ikaku Way.
“Hah, hah, ahHH-OOOOH!”
“Ikaku’s doing push-ups while roaring again!”
“That’s scary!”
“AHHH-OOOOH!”
I’m challenging the limits of body and spirit. Beyond that lies the ultimate zone.
If you’re gonna do something, you see it through to the bitter end.
“AHHH-ooo—”
Thud.
“Ikaku passed out?!”
“His eyes rolled back!”
Push-ups, rest, push-ups, rest. I repeat this cycle until I literally cannot do another rep.
Today it takes seven hours to achieve complete muscular failure.
The spirit isn’t matter. It can’t break, can’t shatter.
That’s why the physical body hits its limit first.
After training, proper protein supplementation is non-negotiable.
* * *
Two and a half years since reincarnation
* * *
Sometimes visitors show up at the orphanage. The kind that requires the Director to send all us kids upstairs while she handles business personally.
Men in black hats and black coats with an unmistakably dangerous vibe.
“Who are they?”
“People from the Akai Clan! The Exorcists!”
“Exorcists...?”
“They defeat Demons and protect the city! The Akai Clan is so cool!”
Demons. Terrifying monsters.
I keep hearing that word, and gradually I’m piecing together what it means.
Apparently Demons actually exist in this world... and they show up way too often.
These aren’t mythical creatures from old stories. They’re real threats to people’s lives and sanity. They disguise themselves as humans, infiltrate society to hunt prey.
Tens of thousands die from Demon attacks every year.
The more I hear, the colder my blood runs. How’s anyone supposed to survive in such a dangerous world?
The only countermeasure I can think of? More muscle training.
But humanity isn’t just sitting around doing nothing.
To combat these nightmare creatures, the human world has a profession called “Exorcists.” These specialists kill Demons and send them back to hell.
The Akai Clan has made Exorcism their hereditary calling for generations, protecting world peace as a noble warrior family.
Not only did they save my life, but what a distinguished household they are.
If they’re engaged in such noble work, it makes sense they own that massive estate next to the orphanage and run this admirable operation raising unfortunate kids.
So this place, which I assumed was identical to my previous world’s Japan, is apparently somewhat different.
Whether it’s a parallel world or some cosmic joke, I can’t say.
After scratching my head briefly, I stop thinking about it.
Before I know it, I’m doing pull-ups.
If I’ve got time to waste on unanswerable philosophical questions, I’d rather spend it punishing my traps.
* * *
Three years since reincarnation
* * *
Ever since learning this world is somewhat different and considerably more dangerous, my training passion has intensified even more.
Getting stronger? In this world, that has actual meaning.
Back in my old world, honestly, building muscle didn’t have much practical application.
Training was fun. Getting bigger doubled the fun. Having practical applications triples it.
But beyond personal enjoyment, there’s another reason my training passion has increased.
Akai Clan agents frequently visit the orphanage, coming to take kids who volunteer or show promise.
The children who get taken undergo training to become Exorcists.
Does this sound like they’re training child soldiers?
But apparently, this is unavoidable.
The kids who end up at this “Akai Orphanage” come from various backgrounds, but we all share one common trait.
We all bear “Soul Brands.”
I’ve got one too. Looks like a black tattoo.
This is apparently evidence of spiritual interference. In plain terms, proof of being attacked by a Demon.
“Demons target the same prey repeatedly. They toy with, enjoy, steal from, mock, and devour them. Other Demons also tend to target prey bearing Soul Brands. These marks never fade until death. Those who’ve had contact with Demons must learn to protect themselves.”
For this reason, kids with Soul Brands typically end up in special places like Akai Orphanage.
The children at this orphanage get choices.
Either train at the Akai estate and acquire Exorcist abilities, or get adopted into a normal family through adoption arrangements.
The latter case is extremely rare. Few are crazy enough to adopt Soul Branded children, after all.
So really, the kids at Akai Orphanage are left with basically one choice.
Incidentally, after becoming Exorcists, they’ll apparently be welcomed into something called the Exorcist Guild. If they’re lucky, they might even get directly employed as Akai Clan Exorcists.
A path to repay the people who saved my life is already laid out before me. That’s the other reason my training passion has only grown stronger.
All I have to do is walk it—no doubts, no second-guessing. When there’s only one road ahead, the choice is simple.
Coincidentally, it happens to be a field I can tackle effectively.
“Hup! Hup! Hup!”
“Ikaku is training again today...”
“That boy might have sensed it from the beginning. His own fate... The harsh karma awaiting him ahead—!” The Director mutters gravely, her glasses gleaming white.
“So that’s why he’s been training constantly?!”
“Yes, I’m certain of it.”
That explanation works for me. Sounds cooler that way.
“Ugh—”
“Ah! He passed out during push-ups again!”
“What mental fortitude... it’s beyond normal...”
“Let’s have protein and chicken breast ready for when he wakes up.”
I can see the Sisters and Director talking, and my unconscious body too.
I’m observing it all from above, like watching someone else.
You might wonder what kind of state this is.
Well, don’t worry. I don’t understand it either.
I can make an educated guess, though.
Probably something like my soul leaving my body. Like an out-of-body experience.
The first time “this” happened was on my first birthday, the day I started training in my second life.
That day too, naturally, my body reached its limit before my spirit did, and my workout ended with unconsciousness. The moment I passed out, I had an out-of-body experience.
It’s a strange phenomenon, but I’ve gotten used to it.
I’ve been repeating this for about two years now.
When you follow the Way of Ikaku, unconsciousness is the ultimate finish line—clear proof the spirit has pushed past the body’s limits.
So that’s what I aim for. Which also means I end up having out-of-body experiences once or twice a week.
Oh... looks like it’s almost time to go back.
As my soul slips back into my body, my vision shifts, grounding me once more in the physical world.
Is this strange phenomenon some kind of special ability? Or is my body so terrified of my spirit that it kicks me out whenever I push too hard?
I’ll figure it out someday.
“Mmm! Hah, I can’t move my body. Good work today, me.”
“Here you go, Ikaku. Vanilla protein okay?”
“Thank you, Director. You’re a real lifesaver.”
Nutrition and rest are crucial after pushing to failure.
Tomorrow’s leg day. The toughest day of all.
I need proper sleep to prepare for it.