3 Chapter 3: The Wish-o-Meter
"Huh," I utter as I struggle to grasp the purpose of my reincarnation. "So, you're saying I should go to this world and hide from whatever calamity is set to destroy it?"
"Yes, brat. Your goal is simple: survive. No need to slay the abomination; nature will take care of that in due time," ROB replies, his face still adorned with that unsettling smile.
"And how do I fit into this?" I ask, slapping his hand off my shoulder. "And stop smiling like that! It's off-putting!" ROB mutters something about insolent children before responding.
"The planet needs resources to enhance the quality of abilities. Fate's energies bestow them upon the worthy to maintain balance in the greater universe. You, brat, will be tethered to the package containing the necessary resources and deliver it to the planet.
As you travel between universes, the tether that binds the resources to you is strong enough to withstand the journey. Once you reach the destination, it will loosen, allowing the resources to trickle into the planet. Your task is simple: hide until the planet has enough resources to combat the anomaly," ROB explains.
After finishing, he sits quietly, sipping his tea, waiting for me to finish contemplating my situation. As I think, a crucial fact dawns on me, and I ask, "How long is 'a while'?" He visibly stiffens.
Mumble-mumble. "What? Can you say that again?" I question him in a higher tone than recommended while talking to a ROB.
"Five hundred years," ROB says in a small voice. Before I could pull out my list of flowery language from my Call of Duty and Counter-Strike days, which I always keep in the custom-made back pocket of my toga (which I'm sure no one bats an eye at), ROB interrupts me.
"You can choose your abilities, anything within the limits. Oh, and did I mention you won't die unless you are killed?"
I pause. It seems fair. Although this ROB is foolish, he can't be stupid enough to not realize that without some form of life extension or immortality, the task is impossible.
Well, it's not like I have any other choice. Let's roll with it and make the best out of the lemons life has given me.
"*sigh* Fine, let's get this over with. Give me the lazy potato power set, and I'll be good to go," I reply, resigned.
"Yes, brat, but before that, I need you to sign this," says ROB, handing me a contract-like piece of paper that, in summary, states:
1. I accept reincarnation, 2. I am aware I am providing goods and/or services to ROB, 3. I am being compensated for the goods and/or services rendered. Also, I am being reincarnated in: Sl. No. XXXX XXX 5318008, Common Name: My Hero Academia.
Holy Dino Nuggies! I'm going to a world where every second alleyway has a villain lurking around. The justice system is like Batman but without the cool martial arts, theatrics, wealth, paranoia, Robin, and Alfred. Basically, it's bad.
"My wishes aren't confirmed, right?" I ask, cold sweat dripping down my back.
"No, not yet." As I give a sigh of relief, ROB vanishes the contract and makes a hologram of a speedometer with golden tufts of cloudy haze surrounding it, appear in front of me.
"Depending on the quality, feasibility, and quantity of the wish or wishes, the meter would fill up until you can wish no more. With a mere thought, you'll be whisked away to live your new life," ROB explains and puffs out of sight.
The echo of, "My work here is done" is the last remaining proof that he was here, besides the half-empty glasses of tea.
Phew, thank ROB that the powers weren't confirmed. Although the Lazy Potato power set is OP as hell, it won't matter if I'm stabbed or taken hostage on my walk home from school.
It's perfect for the MCU, though. Until Tony Stark gets kidnapped and you aren't living in New York, you're safe for a few decades.
But in MHA, the entire world is messed up, and there is no end to crime since any Tom, Dick, and Harry can awaken threatening quirks and can harm others.
Alright, let's see; a gene-based power system, so abilities I can give myself after analyzing a sample. Given that I would not want to be alone and that I'm pretty sure I'm not allowed to die until I reach 500 years old,
{"Damn right you aren't, if you do, I'll bypass any and every god of life and death and condemn you to eternal damnation myself"} *koff koff*, anyway, I would want a companion.
There's only one answer that fits the bill, right? "I want a symbiote, permanently bound to me." I enunciate it clearly, and I see the needle in the wish-o-meter point itself just below the quarter mark.
Hmm, what else? Yes! "Delete all the abnormal weaknesses of the symbiote." I watch as the needle rises to just between the quarter and halfway mark. Damn, that was expensive.
Almost every hero or villain has powers related to that. Even AFO (All For One) and OFA (One For All) use shockwaves and punches of compressed air to attack, which can easily be modified a little to make sonic attacks.
Now let's see… "Would the symbiote have a consciousness?" I intonate. As expected, wish-o-meters can't talk. So, I try my luck and wish-
"Remove any consciousness residing in the symbiote." To my joy, the needle drops down to just above the quarter mark.
Héhé~ If we are reincarnating, a system is a must. So, I wish, "I want the Gamer System!" With palpable excitement roiling off me in waves.
But, to my horror, the needle of the wish-o-meter jumps, showing the max possible value. The entire contraption starts hissing and blowing golden haze all around like a steam boiler about to blow.
"Cancel! Back! Stoppu, stoooop!" I yell in a panic. My fragile heart is thankful that the needle goes back down to its previous position, and the contraption stabilizes again.
Phew, although it's unfortunate, I'm still sort of glad that I don't have to keep track of the numbers on my stat page. (A/N: Me too buddy, me too)
Alright, so not a system—wait a second. All I really need is a status screen to help me understand my abilities. So, why not get an AI that I'm intimately familiar with? Since conveniently, there is a spot open in the mind of my symbiote.
With purpose, I state, "I wish for the [Skill: Great Sage] from Tensura to reside in my symbiote and serve me!" I watch on with glee as the needle points just over the three-quarter mark. I'm happy because with what I already have, I can live my life to the fullest in MHA.
But, why not get another ability from Tensura, which lines up pretty well with the nature of my Symbiote and gives me an inventory as well?
"I wish for my symbiote to have Rimuru's [Skill: Predator]," As the needle in the wish-o-meter rises and points to the max, I sigh in contentment, knowing that I'm going to be overpowered, and can live a carefree life in MHA. (A/N: *smiling maliciously and creepily laughing*)
I feel a shiver run down my spine as I realize that I did something I wasn't supposed to. Oh well. Like Napoleon once said: "There's nothing we can do about it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯."
As I'm about to say that I'm ready, I notice that the wish-o-meter, although suspiciously close, is not actually full. I glare at the contraption; I ponder on what to wish for. I'm the most hated type of RPG player—a min-max player. So, willing to take full advantage of my situation, I keep thinking.
And as I'm thinking, I get a eureka moment and wish for something most reincarnators neglect when wishing for their abilities.
"I wish to have a perfectly adaptable body that suits my symbiote the best." I watch on with a smug smile as the Wish-o-meter finally reaches its full capacity and lets off a soft ding. It resonates within me, whisking me away to my new life in a pillar of golden light.
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(Third Person POV)
A tired-looking ROB enters the space which was previously occupied by our MC. 'Sigh, that arrogant brat is finally gone. With this, my debt has been fulfilled.' Thought the ROB as the space morphs into a cozy-looking room. The marble seat changes into a comfortable armchair positioned facing a dimly lit fireplace.
'No one disrespects me to such an extent and gets away scott free,' ROB grins as the edge of his lips quirk up into a sharp grin.
As we see ROB reaching for a book on a bookshelf beside the fireplace, the oddly modern-looking phone lets out a beep in his robe's pocket. He sighs again, knowing that the drama caused by the boy's past life was not over.
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(A/N: My longest chapter yet.)
