Akira Kurosawa slumped back on his worn-out couch, the glow of his laptop screen casting eerie shadows across his cramped apartment. At 19, he was your average dude: part-time job at a convenience store, zero social life beyond online forums, and a die-hard obsession with Jujutsu Kaisen. He'd binged the entire series multiple times, debated theories on Reddit, and even had a Gojo Satoru poster staring down at him from the wall like the Honored One himself was judging his life choices.
But tonight? Tonight was the finale. The manga had wrapped up, and the anime adaptation had just dropped its last episode. Akira hit play, heart pounding, snacks forgotten on the table.
He watched as the chaos unfolded: curses rampaging, sorcerers clashing, and then... the moment that shattered him.
"No fucking way," he muttered, eyes wide as Gojo Satoru, his absolute GOAT, the guy who'd carried the series on his blindfolded back, got turned into a goddamn Kit Kat. Split right down the middle like some cheap candy bar. "They did him dirty! The Honored One, reduced to a snack? What the hell, Gege? You fraud!"
He paused the screen, staring at the frozen image. Gojo's cocky grin mocked him from beyond the grave. Akira felt a pang in his chest, not just from the plot twist but from the emptiness that followed. "Man, that's it? All that buildup, all those memes about infinity and domain expansions, and he ends up as chocolate? Bullshit."
His stomach growled, cutting through the silence. The episode had drained him, and now hunger hit like a cursed technique. "Fine, universe. I'll drown my sorrows in instant ramen." He grabbed his jacket, slipped on his sneakers, and headed out into the night. The streets were quiet, a light drizzle making everything slick and shiny under the streetlights. The nearby mart was just a five-minute walk, plenty of time to rant in his head.
"Seriously, Sukuna? King of Frauds strikes again. All that hype about being the strongest, and he gets clapped by a bunch of teenagers. And Megumi? Potential Man himself, always one shadow dog away from greatness but never quite there. Don't even get me started on Yuta – Fraudkuna 2.0."
Akira chuckled to himself, dodging a puddle. He was calm about it, sure, but the sarcasm bubbled up like cursed energy. It was his way of coping. Life sucked sometimes: dead-end job, no girlfriend, parents nagging about college. But JJK? That was his escape. If only he could jump into that world, fix all the bullshit, become the real honored one.
Headlights flashed suddenly, blinding him. A truck barreled down the road, horn blaring like a warning from hell. Akira froze for a split second, brain screaming, Truck-kun? No way, that's such a cliché isekai trope!
Impact. Pain exploded through his body, then nothing. The world spun into darkness, his last thought a mix of regret and dark humor: At least I won't have to deal with that Kit Kat trauma anymore.
When consciousness flickered back, Akira found himself floating in an endless black void. No up, no down, just infinite nothingness. He blinked, or at least tried to – did he even have eyes here? "What the fuck? Am I dead? This better not be some purgatory bullshit."
A voice echoed, childish and annoyingly chipper. "Ding ding ding! You win the prize for stating the obvious, buddy."
Akira spun around (or felt like he did) and there, materializing out of the shadows, was a kid. No older than 12, with messy hair, a smirk that screamed trouble, and eyes that glowed with otherworldly mischief. He wore a casual hoodie and jeans, like he'd just stepped out of a middle school playground. But something was off – the air around him hummed with power, like the kid was a walking domain expansion.
"Who the hell are you?" Akira asked, keeping his cool. Panicking wouldn't help; he'd seen enough anime to know this drill.
The kid grinned wider, floating closer. "Me? I'm what you mortals call a Random Omnipotent Being – ROB for short. But honestly, that sounds boring. Call me whatever. I'm the guy who plucks souls like yours from the afterlife conveyor belt and offers deals. You got isekai'd, my dude. Truck-kun sends his regards."
Akira raised an eyebrow, sarcasm kicking in. "A child? Really? The almighty being who controls fates looks like he should be playing Fortnite instead of playing god? That's rich."
ROB laughed, a high-pitched cackle that echoed through the void. "Hey, appearances are deceptive. I could look like a grizzled old wizard if I wanted, but this form? It's fun. Keeps things light. Now, let's cut to the chase. You're dead, Akira Kurosawa. Splat. Gone. But I'm feeling generous today. I can transmigrate you into any world you want, with one wish. Anything goes – powers, harem, infinite money, you name it."
Akira's mind raced. This was it – the ultimate fanboy dream. But he wasn't some whiny protagonist begging for cheats. He stayed calm, thinking it through. "Any world? Like, fictional ones?"
"Yep. Anime, manga, games, whatever floats your boat."
A grin tugged at Akira's lips. JJK. The world where curses roamed, sorcerers fought, and his favorites got shafted. He could fix it. Be there. "Alright, but what's the catch? Nothing's free in these stories."
ROB's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Smart cookie. The catch is me. I'm bored as fuck up here. Eternity's a drag without entertainment. So, the deal: I send you where you want, grant your one wish, but in return, you provide the show. Drama, action, chaos – keep me hooked, and I'll throw in bonuses. Bore me? Well, let's just say Truck-kun has friends."
Akira nodded slowly. Sounded fair. He wasn't about to live a quiet life anyway. "Deal. Transmigrate me into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen."
ROB tilted his head, intrigued. "JJK, huh? The one with all the curses and overpowered freaks? Nice choice. Now, your wish?"
Akira paused, weighing his words. He knew what he needed – help to survive that hellhole, to become OP without the usual system grind. But phrasing it right... "I want you to help me."
The void went silent. ROB stared at him, expression shifting from playful to "are you fucking kidding me?" The kid's eyes narrowed, then burst into laughter. "Help you? That's your wish? Vague as hell, but damn, it's ballsy. Most idiots ask for infinite cursed energy or some hax ability. You? You want me on your side?"
Akira shrugged, keeping his tone light. "What can I say? I'm a simple guy. But yeah, help me navigate that world, get strong, whatever it takes. You're omnipotent, right? Figure it out."
ROB wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling. "This shit's interesting now, ain't it? Alright, I'll help you – but not in the way you think. No hand-holding, no freebies. We're making this entertaining. Deal's sealed."
Before Akira could respond, a wave of dizziness hit him. The void spun, ROB's voice fading. "Adios, Akira! Showtime starts soon. Don't disappoint!"
Everything went black again.
When Akira came to, the first thing he noticed was the ground under his feet – solid, real. No void. He blinked, vision clearing to reveal a bright blue sky, birds chirping, and... a massive gate in front of him. Stone walls, traditional Japanese architecture, and a sign that read "Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College" – Jujutsu High.
"Holy shit," he whispered, a mix of awe and sarcasm flooding him. "I'm here. Right at the gates, like some plot-convenient drop-off." He patted his pockets, finding a crisp envelope. Pulling it out, he saw the seal of the higher-ups. An admission letter, detailing his enrollment as a new student. "Thanks, ROB. At least you hooked me up with the basics."
A familiar voice echoed in his head – childish, smug. [System activated. Welcome, host. Or should I say, entertainment monkey? Mission incoming soon. You've got three days before the main shitshow starts. Better get ready.]
Akira smirked, glancing around. No one in sight yet, but he could feel the cursed energy humming in the air. "System, huh? You're just ROB in disguise, aren't you? Fine, let's play. But if you screw me over, I'll find a way to exorcise your ass."
He took a step forward, heart racing with excitement. This was his chance – to meet the characters, drop memes on frauds like Sukuna, and maybe even save his GOAT from the Kit Kat fate. But as he approached the gate, a shadowy figure emerged from the other side, eyes locking onto him with suspicion.
"Who the hell are you?" the voice demanded.
Akira froze, recognizing the silhouette. Oh fuck, is that...?
[A/N: Drop some stones if you want to see more chapters!]