Chapter 1 (Patreon)

Tokyo, Japan.

“Did I just… get isekai’d?”

Ragnar Kagenou rubbed his head, still dizzy.

The last thing he remembered was walking down the street, trying to dodge a truck—

—and then the truck had turned into a robot and punched him into next week.

To make it worse, the driver had been muttering to himself the whole time.

“Hurry up and die already. I’ve still got another delivery after this.”

Ragnar looked utterly miserable.

“What kind of absurd crap is that? If I’d known this would happen, I would’ve stayed home. Watching anime indoors was clearly the superior life choice.”

Beside him, a girl suddenly cried out in excitement.

“Isekai?! Umu! How did I never think of such an interesting premise before?!”

The sheer volume made Ragnar jolt so hard he nearly drove an elbow straight into her face.

…Wait.

Who the hell are you?

And who just starts shouting beside a stranger in public?

Thankfully, Ragnar had decent self-control. Otherwise, that elbow definitely would’ve landed.

The girl, however, was completely lost in her own world, nodding to herself while making odd little gestures like she was reenacting a scene only she could see.

Thwack!

“Ow! What was that for?!”

She clutched her forehead, now slightly red, and looked up at Ragnar with teary eyes.

Ragnar’s mouth twitched.

Wasn’t she the one who startled him first?

Now she was acting like the victim.

Even so, seeing her look so pitiful, he still answered.

“That’s what I should be asking. You ran up to me and started yelling out of nowhere. You’re lucky I didn’t actually hit you.”

The girl froze, swallowed nervously, then immediately raised her arms in some bizarre mock fighting stance while hopping backward.

“Blond delin—delinquent! D-Don’t come any closer! I know the Kaio-ken!”

“…What?”

Blond?

Delinquent?

Who exactly was she talking about here?

He was obviously a fine, upright young man of the modern age.

Then Ragnar caught sight of his reflection in a nearby glass window.

Blond hair. Red eyes. Black jacket. White shirt. Black pants. Around 180 centimeters tall.

The guy staring back at him was—

“…Me?”

He looked weirdly familiar too.

Like some suspiciously handsome extra who’d wandered out of another series.

Still, Ragnar forced himself to calm down.

After all, getting isekai’d was no big dea—

Yeah, right. As if.

He stepped forward at once and grabbed the girl by both shoulders. She jolted, but strangely enough, she didn’t struggle. Maybe because, blond or not, he was still way too handsome for his own good.

“This isn’t Fuyuki City, right? Right? Right?!”

“Ah—ah, yes. I mean, I’ve never heard of Fuyuki City, but this is definitely Tokyo.”

“That’s good. That’s very, very good.”

Only after saying it did Ragnar seem to realize how strange he looked. He immediately let go of her, then frowned.

“Wait. Who are you?”

The girl’s expression twitched.

Then twitched again.

Her fist clenched.

“I am from Master Tengen’s—ah! No, wait, that’s not something I’m supposed to say.”

She quickly straightened her school uniform, then put on a solemn expression like she was making a formal declaration.

“My name is—Riko Amanai!”

“…Huh?”

Where’d he go?!

Riko craned her neck and looked around, only to spot Ragnar a short distance away buying a crepe like absolutely nothing important had just happened.

“Hey! That is incredibly rude! Don’t you know I was in the middle of introducing myself?!”

Ragnar, now being tugged by the sleeve, simply pointed at the strange looks the nearby pedestrians were already sending them.

Riko coughed lightly, let go of his clothes, and tried to recover her dignity.

“…Couldn’t you at least respond like a normal person?”

Then her eyes sharpened.

In the very next second, Ragnar shoved the crepe he had just bought straight into her mouth.

“Mgh—mmph—!”

She froze.

Then chewed.

Her eyes widened.

“Delicious! No, wait! My name is—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Riko Amanai.”

Riko stared at him in shock and blurted out exactly what he expected.

“How do you know my name?!”

She turned as if she was about to bolt, but Ragnar answered before she could.

“You were talking to yourself just now. Loudly. I could hear the whole thing.”

“Ugh! Shut up! Whose fault do you think that was?!”

Even the delicious crepe couldn’t stop Riko from glaring at him with full force.

With her chattering away beside him, Ragnar began sorting through his current situation.

Fortunately, as a transmigrator, he hadn’t arrived empty-handed.

He had his cheat ability.

Gate of Babylon.

With that, he’d be invincible.

…No, wait, don’t say that. Saying things like that was how people raised death flags.

Still, Ragnar’s Gate of Babylon was a little different from the original.

It hadn’t fully unlocked.

Noble Phantasm: Gate of Babylon

Rank: E~EX

Type: Anti-Unit Noble Phantasm

A key connected to the treasury of the Golden Capital, allowing the free retrieval of all things stored within.

Sealed: Currently, only E-Rank to C-Rank Noble Phantasms from the Golden Capital may be used. For unknown reasons, the Gate of Babylon has been placed under a Quadruple Seal, and breaking those seals requires a large amount of Cursed Energy.

However, one Noble Phantasm stands as an exception:

The Chains of Heaven.

Though currently fixed at A++ Rank, and though its True Name cannot yet be released, it requires no Cursed Energy to bind or strike its target. It is also unaffected by the seal, and may therefore be used freely.

Cursed Energy.

Right.

This was the world of Jujutsu Kaisen.

Ragnar had watched JJK before, but mostly through random shorts, out-of-context clips, edits, and comment sections full of people arguing like they had PhDs in cursed energy.

So his understanding of the plot was… not exactly reliable.

He knew the big names.

Gojo. Sukuna. Yuji. Megumi.

He knew people got folded, traumatized, sealed, dismembered, or emotionally ruined every other arc.

But the actual timeline?

The details?

Who appeared when?

Yeah, that was a complete mess in his head.

Which meant one terrifying thing:

Ragnar had been dropped into a world he technically knew…

…but only in the worst, most fragmented way possible.

Then again... when in Rome, do as the Romans do.

Since this world ran on Cursed Energy, using Cursed Energy to unlock the Gate’s seals actually made perfect sense.

The seal on Gate of Babylon might have limited Ragnar’s upper ceiling, but even so, his starting point was already something most people would never reach.

Even the so-called low-rank Noble Phantasms—E-Rank to C-Rank—were far from weak.

And on top of that, he had the Chains of Heaven, specially exempt from the restriction.

That alone was more than enough for now.

As for ordinary treasures like gold and gemstones that didn’t even possess a rank—

Those could be thrown around as much as he liked.

At that moment, Riko’s irritated voice cut through his thoughts.

“Hey! Are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m listening. Keep going.”

Riko crossed her arms and stared at him with open suspicion.

Ragnar met her gaze without the slightest shame.

“Don’t look at me like that. I really was listening.”

“Oh? Then tell me what I just asked.”

Ragnar paused.

“…I think you were asking whether No. 42 concrete should be mixed with spaghetti.”

Riko gave him a flat look that said exactly what she thought of that answer.

“Stop. Just stop. That’s complete nonsense. Forget it. Since you weren’t listening anyway, I’ll ask something simpler.”

She took a breath, then looked him straight in the eye.

“I still don’t know your name.”

“Ragnar Kagenou.”

“…That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Riko stared at the blond, red-eyed boy standing in front of her.

At first glance, he looked like one of those naturally dangerous types girls were warned about.

But after talking to him for a while, she realized the truth.

He wasn’t dangerous.

He was just unbelievably dense.

Ragnar caught the disappointment on her face and gave a helpless shrug.

“Don’t look so crushed. No matter how scummy I get, I’m not the kind of guy who’d hit on a flat-chested middle schooler.”

The effect was immediate.

Riko exploded.

“What did you just say?! I am not flat-chested! You disgusting boob-obsessed creep!”

The pedestrians nearby instantly turned to look.

A blond delinquent making a middle school girl scream in public—

In the eyes of the crowd, Ragnar’s social reputation had already died.

“Sit down,” Riko snapped. “You blond idiots really are all the same. Zero composure.”

“You’re the one calling me blond.”

Riko stopped halfway through her outrage.

Then slowly realized something.

He really was blond.

She stared.

Ragnar stared back.

“…What? Why are you looking at me like that? It’s making me uncomfortable.”

Riko narrowed her eyes and pointed an accusing finger at him.

“You ate my crepe.”

“Huh?!”

The sheer shamelessness of the accusation left Ragnar genuinely stunned.