I Reincarnated as a System Police
Introduction — The Perfect Detective System
Generic anomaly detected.
It truly is generic.
No, seriously. It is abnormally generic.
NULL USER DETECTED.
User Status: WEAK
Compatibility Status: ACCEPTABLE
System Host Selection Protocol: COMPLETE
Awaiting administrator access to sys.exe...
Request submitted to Truck-kun Co.
Delivery Date: XXXX-XX-XX
Administrator Note:
Host may not know it yet, but life will be hell.
It was another perfectly ordinary workday at the Goddess Coalition Office.
Which, considering the office existed in a corner of a multilayered universe suspended outside mortal causality, meant absolutely nothing about it was ordinary.
Well-dressed divine authorities moved between glowing workstations, dimensional filing cabinets, and laboratory tables covered in half-finished personality matrices. Beyond the enormous windows of the Coalition headquarters, six artificial suns revolved around one another like the gears of a celestial clock.
The goddesses had made those suns.
Mortals, naturally, had no idea.
At the center of the Systems Development Division, a Goddess of Creation stared down at the schematic for their newest prototype.
Lines of divine code crawled across a transparent screen.
PERSONALITY MATRIX: INCOMPLETE
HOST PERSONALITY REQUIREMENT: GENERIC
SYSTEM COUNTERMEASURE PROTOCOL: EXPERIMENTAL
She folded her arms.
"There's been a rise in system abuse for far too long. We're going to create a prototype capable of shutting down criminal system users."
Across from her stood one of her subordinates, the Goddess of Death.
The Goddess of Creation glanced at her.
"What are the risks?"
The Goddess of Death adjusted the stack of documents in her hands.
"The greatest risk isn't exactly abuse of power."
"No?"
"No. Some system users eventually become candidates for either the Divine Force or the Devil Force."
The team leader's eyes lit up.
"Oh! That's wonderful news. How many candidates do we have for the Divine Force?"
The Goddess of Death flinched.
Then she smiled.
It was the particular smile of an employee who desperately wished the answer on her report would change if she looked optimistic enough.
"One."
The Goddess of Creation blinked.
"One?"
"One."
"Out of how many?"
"...Three hundred."
Silence filled the laboratory.
The Goddess of Death quickly added, "But I'm sure we could improve those numbers if we altered their karma a little."
The Goddess of Creation slowly turned toward her.
"We are not altering people's karma to improve recruitment statistics."
"Right."
"That's illegal."
"Very."
"And stupid."
"Extremely."
The Goddess of Creation sighed.
"So the Devil Force gets two hundred ninety-nine candidates, and we get one?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
The subordinate flipped through her report.
"Because the only qualifying candidate is a Divine Chef System user."
"A what?"
"A Divine Chef."
"What does his system do?"
"It converts the positive karma he earns from feeding people into quests, skills, attributes, and rewards."
The Goddess of Creation stared at her.
"So he's basically a system slave whose only purpose is making good food."
"If you insist on phrasing it in the most unflattering way possible..."
The Goddess of Death cleared her throat.
"...yes."
The Creation Goddess pinched the bridge of her nose.
"And the other two hundred ninety-nine?"
"They're..."
The Goddess of Death hesitated.
"Overpowered?"
"Yes."
"Murderous?"
"Some."
"Morally questionable?"
"Most."
"Completely insane?"
"Statistically?"
She checked the report.
"Seventy-eight percent."
The Goddess of Creation's eye twitched.
The Goddess of Death hurried onward.
"The problem is their karma. Many of them accumulated enormous amounts of power while causing disruptions throughout their worlds. The Devil Force wants them because negative karma doesn't disqualify applicants over there."
"But we can't recruit them."
"Correct. The Divine Force legally cannot accept individuals above the karmic corruption threshold. Doing so would violate universal law and create karmic backlash."
The Goddess of Death handed her supervisor a second folder.
Stamped across the front were the words:
POTENTIAL ACCIDENT VICTIMS — RECRUITMENT REQUESTS
The Goddess of Creation flipped through several pages.
"Hmm."
The Goddess of Death smiled.
"I do have a plan."
"Does this plan violate causality?"
"No."
"Universal law?"
"Technically no."
"Ethical standards?"
The Goddess of Death looked away.
"...We have ethical standards?"
The Creation Goddess stared at her.
"Continue."
"We solve the problem before those people become corrupted system users. Instead of trying to rehabilitate three hundred walking disasters after they've accumulated enough negative karma to qualify for the Devil Force, we create something capable of policing systems themselves."
The Goddess of Creation's expression changed.
Now she was interested.
"A system that hunts other systems?"
"More like a regulatory system."
"A system police."
"Exactly."
The Goddess of Creation smiled.
Then she reached over and gave the Goddess of Death an approving headpat.
The subordinate immediately brightened.
"That could work."
Her eyes suddenly wandered toward another laboratory table.
"Wait."
She walked toward it.
"Is that the generic-type system?"
The Creation Goddess followed her gaze.
A pale sphere of unfinished divine machinery floated above the table. Unlike most systems—which were designed around warriors, necromancers, cultivators, heroes, merchants, villains, craftsmen, kings, or whatever ridiculous occupation mortals managed to turn into infinite progression—the sphere contained almost nothing.
No affinity.
No destiny archetype.
No legendary bloodline.
No special elemental alignment.
It was painfully average.
The Goddess of Death's eyes widened.
"This is perfect!"
"That thing?"
"Think about it! System users gain strength through narrative reinforcement. Hero systems create heroic momentum. Villain systems generate antagonistic momentum. Cultivation systems generate progression momentum."
She pointed excitedly at the floating sphere.
"But what happens if we bond a system to someone so fundamentally generic that the host produces almost no specialized trope energy?"
The Creation Goddess slowly smiled.
"A nullifying effect."
"Exactly!"
The Goddess of Death began altering the schematic.
"If the host is generic enough, then when the system bonds with them, their trope signature could interfere with specialized systems."
She paused.
"The perfect Mary Sue."
"Gary Stu."
"Whichever one we find first."
The Goddess of Creation clasped her hands together.
"I can't wait to see the host's distorted body after reincarnation."
The Goddess of Death stopped typing.
She slowly turned around.
"...Team Leader."
"What?"
"You don't sound like a Goddess of Creation right now."
"I'm tired."
"How much sleep have you gotten?"
The Goddess of Creation lifted her mug.
Printed across it were the words:
I'LL SLEEP WHEN I'M DEAD.
The Goddess of Death stared at the mug.
Then at the immortal goddess holding it.
Then back at the mug.
"That is possibly the most concerning thing I've seen today."
"Thank you."
The subordinate wisely returned to work.
"We'll still need the right candidate. I originally wanted to select someone from the million people on our reincarnation list, but that pool is too large."
"What kind of host would work?"
The Goddess of Death thought for several seconds.
"Someone accustomed to investigating strange circumstances."
"A scholar?"
"Too specialized."
"A soldier?"
"Too combat-oriented."
"A lawyer?"
"Absolutely not."
"Agreed."
Then the Goddess of Death snapped her fingers.
"A detective."
The Goddess of Creation leaned forward.
"A detective?"
"A detective already thinks in terms of evidence, suspects, motives, crimes, and investigations. If we're creating a system meant to police other systems, then we shouldn't make the system itself responsible for determining guilt."
Understanding dawned on the Creation Goddess's face.
"The host investigates."
"The system provides tools."
"And rewards."
"And jurisdiction."
"And weapons."
The Goddess of Death hesitated.
"Within reason."
"Of course."
The team leader was already writing something down.
ORBITAL JUDGMENT CANNON — POSSIBLE LEVEL 100 REWARD
The Goddess of Death silently deleted it.
"We'll call it..."
She looked at the unfinished system.
"The Perfect Detective System."
The Goddess of Creation nodded.
"And instead of traditional rewards?"
"We build the system interface like a mobile police station."
The schematic immediately began changing.
CASE DATABASE
EVIDENCE STORAGE
SUSPECT REGISTRY
SYSTEM CRIME DETECTION
TEMPORARY DETENTION
WARRANT GENERATION
QUEST BOARD
EQUIPMENT LOCKER
KARMIC RECORD ACCESS — RESTRICTED
The Creation Goddess looked impressed.
"Find me a host."
The Goddess of Death opened the reincarnation database.
One million names appeared.
"That may take a while."
"Filter by occupation."
DETECTIVE
Thousands vanished.
"Filter for scheduled deaths."
Hundreds disappeared.
"Accidental deaths."
Dozens remained.
The Goddess of Creation thought for a moment.
Then smiled.
"Hit-and-run victims."
Only a handful of names remained.
The Goddess of Death looked at her.
"Why specifically hit-and-run?"
"Simple. We replace the offending vehicle with a Truck-kun Co. operator."
The subordinate slowly lowered her tablet.
"...Why?"
"Guaranteed delivery."
"Team Leader."
"And they can double-tap if necessary."
The Goddess of Death's jaw tightened.
"Team Leader."
"What?"
"You really need sleep."
The Creation Goddess took another sip of ambrosia.
"No time."
The subordinate looked at the immortal woman's mug again.
That somehow made the statement worse.
She grabbed the completed system blueprint and hurried toward the transportation department before her supervisor invented anything else.
TRUCK-KUN CO.
ISEKAI SPECIALIST DEPARTMENT
The manager's office stood at the far end of a hallway decorated with photographs of legendary company vehicles.
Truck-kun Mark I.
Truck-kun Express.
Truck-kun Delivery Van.
Truck-kun Agricultural Variant.
And one heavily damaged truck whose plaque simply read:
MULTIVERSE INCIDENT #8841 — DO NOT ASK.
The Goddess of Death entered the office and placed the recruitment order.
TARGET PARAMETERS
Occupation: Detective
Death Classification: Imminent
Cause: Hit-and-run
Soul Compatibility: High
Narrative Profile: Generic
Moral Alignment: Acceptable
System Compatibility: Perfect Detective System
The manager scanned the request.
"Double tap?"
The goddess sighed.
"My supervisor requested it."
"Creation Division?"
"Yes."
"Overworked?"
"Extremely."
The manager stamped the form.
APPROVED.
And somewhere far below the divine realm, where humans remained blissfully unaware that their lives occasionally appeared on celestial administrative paperwork, the order went into effect.
A man heard the horn before he saw the truck.
His father was standing in the road.
There wasn't enough time to think.
No calculation.
No heroic speech.
No dramatic realization about the meaning of life.
He moved.
He slammed into his father's side and threw him out of the truck's path.
His father survived.
The son didn't escape so easily.
Metal screamed.
Glass shattered.
His body struck the pavement.
Then everything became distant.
Voices.
Sirens.
Hospital lights.
Doctors shouting numbers he couldn't understand.
Someone squeezing his hand.
His father crying.
The detective tried to open his eyes.
Couldn't.
Tried to speak.
Couldn't.
Then, somewhere between one heartbeat and the next—
something appeared inside the darkness.
Searching for host...
Host located.
Checking compatibility...
ERROR.
Host possesses no legendary bloodline.
No chosen-one status detected.
No hidden cultivation physique detected.
No ancient ancestry detected.
No demonic inheritance detected.
No divine blessing detected.
No sealed primordial entity detected.
No secret billionaire lineage detected.
No reincarnated sword saint detected.
No statistically unreasonable charisma detected.
Personality assessment...
...
...
GENERIC.
Rechecking.
EXTREMELY GENERIC.
Rechecking.
ABNORMALLY GENERIC.
Generic anomaly detected.
...
Perfect.
Initializing:
THE PERFECT DETECTIVE SYSTEM
Administrator designation:
SYSTEM POLICE
Welcome, Officer.
Your jurisdiction begins now.
And that was how I died.
Or at least—
that was how the paperwork described it.
Because when I opened my eyes again, the first thing I saw wasn't heaven.
It wasn't hell.
It wasn't even the face of some beautiful goddess welcoming me to another world.
It was a blue system window floating six inches from my face.
NEW QUEST
CASE #0001: INVESTIGATE YOUR OWN MURDER
Difficulty: Tutorial
Reward: System Police Badge
Failure Penalty: Unknown
Additional Information:
The vehicle that killed you does not legally exist.
Good luck, Detective.
I stared at the message.
Then I stared at the unfamiliar world around me.
"...What the hell?"