Hardcore Exorcist: Reborn to Grind

Six Years Since Reincarnation

* * *

By age three, I’ve graduated from baby tier.

Since I’m already getting recognized as a thoughtful and clever kid, it doesn’t take long before I’m grouped with the older siblings—five and up.

So what’s different about getting treated like the older kids?

You’re locked into a seriously structured routine.

First, they establish fixed wake-up and bedtime hours. Then prayer time and daily hymn practice get added to the schedule.

These activities go down in the chapel.

During singing time, the Director plays that pipe organ.

Getting enveloped by that magnificent sound, feeling those deep bass vibrations resonate through your entire body and into your organs—it’s a truly special experience.

In my previous life, I might have heard that sound somewhere, but I’d never experienced it live, so it’s pretty refreshing at first.

Also, starting at age six, the orphanage begins something resembling actual school studies, but I get permission to attend these classes starting at five.

The subjects include math, language arts, science, social studies, and English. 

What’s interesting is that the curriculum includes Biblical studies as a subject. It’s like a Christian school.

This is unmistakably the same material taught in a typical elementary school.

Naturally, it’s so boring I can barely stay awake. Besides the material being way too easy, the lingering fatigue from training probably contributes to my drowsiness too.

“Is my class really that boring, Ikaku?”

I often find myself getting gently woken up by one of the Sisters.

“I wasn’t sleeping, Sister.”

“Lying is wrong, you know. Especially with that blissful expression on your face.”

“Sorry, Sister. I was definitely sleeping there.”

After my reflexive apology, I look around.

The other kids taking math class with me—ages six to eight or so—are giggling as they watch me. They’re all acquaintances, friends really—family who’ve been living together for years.

“Sister, what are we working on today?”

“Two-digit subtraction.”

“I see. Then I’ll probably be fine. Let me sleep.”

“Ikaku! Answer this one! What’s 50 minus 27!”

“Twenty-three,” I mumble.

Having graduated from a reasonably well-known university in my previous life, this level of work is a breeze.

Well, it’s not even a matter of being college-educated at this point—it’s that basic.

“So fast! Ikaku is amazing!”

“Huh? Is it really twenty-three?”

“Do you know how to do it?”

“I don’t know...”

“Um, zero minus seven, so you have to borrow... hmm...”

“It’s hard!”

My brothers and sisters make troubled faces as they tackle the century’s greatest challenge: 50 - 27.

Meanwhile, Sister sighs softly and gently pats my head.

“Good grief. Ikaku is such a little genius. It can’t be helped. You must be tired, so you can sleep.”

“Thanks. Then I’ll take you up on that offer. Good night.”

“Yes, good night. Sweet dreams.”

“Ikaku gets special treatment!”

“It’s not fair—only Ikaku gets spoiled by Sister!”

“It can’t be helped. Unlike us, Ikaku is super smart and super strong.”

My siblings look disgruntled.

“Ahem. If you want to take naps during class, working as hard at training as Ikaku is a prerequisite.”

“Ugh, absolutely not!”

“I’d die if I tried doing that!”

“Sister’s mean! She’s a demon!”

“Now, now. Back to your studies.”

While I’m living this orderly life of prayer, hymns, and studying, I continue my dedicated and grueling strength training regimen.

Last year, when I turned five, I negotiated with the Director to have dumbbells and barbells placed behind the chapel, so I’m able to start weight training with actual equipment.

As you can gather from the above, Akai Orphanage provides religious education. Devout faith in God and maintaining pure hearts and bodies probably helps ward off Demons.

—Or so I think, so I ask one of the Akai family agents who comes to the orphanage.

“Faith as an anti-Demon measure is meaningless.”

That’s his blunt response.

“However, the heart is humanity’s strongest weapon. The cross has been a symbol since ancient times. I don’t intend to deny that.

That said, you don’t need to become a Christian.

What matters in Demon Exorcism isn’t memorizing scripture—it’s the iron resolve to send Demons straight to hell, the determination to exterminate every single one of them, and the killer instinct to crush them on sight.”

The agent who teaches me this is an old man with sharp eyes. A Russian with silver hair and distinguished features.

He’s visited Akai Orphanage countless times before. This old man possesses an intensity as if he knows everything there is to know about combat, and his words carry conviction.

The weight of the Soul Brand on my body, and the demonic threat I can never escape for the rest of my life…

The only way to resist is to become stronger myself.

Having someone from the field teach me that only increases my motivation for training.

To hell with dying—I’m done with unreasonable endings.

“We meet again this year, kid.”

I’ve turned six in the cool autumn following summer’s end. That agent comes to the orphanage once more—to give the children bearing Soul Brands the power to fight.

This year, it’s my turn.

Incidentally, challenging the Boot Camp program aimed at becoming an Exorcist at age six is highly unusual.

Typically, kids go between ages ten and fifteen. The main reasons are that personal resolve often takes time to solidify, and there’s the requirement of completing the Academic Curriculum.

The Boot Camp program and Academic Curriculum are mandatory paths that all of us from the orphanage must take to enter society.

The reason I started attending classes at five was because I wanted to finish the Academic Curriculum fast.

The Academic Curriculum consists of Elementary Education and Secondary Education, and it normally takes my orphanage siblings eight to ten years to complete both.

Needless to say, it’s education at elementary and middle school levels. The fact that we orphans who can’t attend regular school can receive education comparable to the outside world is probably thanks to the Akai family’s generosity.

Well, having experienced real elementary school, the orphanage classes are quite informal. Rather than rigid classroom instruction, it’s more like homeschooling.

It feels like playing school in a small community.

I get recognized as having completed the Academic Curriculum in just one year total.

The Director and Sisters aren’t particularly surprised—they give me looks like “of course you did.”

The fact that I’m a genius—or appear to be one—is common knowledge among my caretakers.

Thus, I’m set to graduate from Akai Orphanage in record time. Starting today, I’ll advance to Boot Camp—the phase aimed at becoming an Exorcist.

“Ikaku, come visit us sometimes!”

“Do your best! Though I’m sure you’ll be fine!”

“Sister and we made you a card! Please take it!”

I hug each of my brothers and sisters who’ve grown up with me and say goodbye. 

Even though I’m not going far away, I feel strangely lonely.

“Ikaku, don’t forget your prayers.”

“You’re surely destined for great things.”

“Come home on your days off.”

“To think your departure day would come so soon...”

The Sisters see me off with tears in their eyes. They’re all like mothers and older sisters to me. At parting, each of them hugs me tightly.

The last person to say goodbye is the Director. The old woman who picked me up on that rainy day seems to have hardly aged.

This great grandmother who showered me—a child without parents—with endless love pats my head with the same wrinkled but strong hands as always, even on my departure day.

Then she shakes up a protein shaker and presses a vanilla protein shake into my hands.

I chug it down in one go and return the empty container.

“Take care, Ikaku.”

“I will. I’m off then, Director.”

The farewells are over.

I leave the orphanage with my trunk in hand, walking to the black luxury car parked outside. Ahead of me looms the profile of an enormous mansion.

I climb into the car alongside the agent.