Reincarnation Paradise: I swear I'm not schizophrenic

Kazuya's life was full of luxuries. He was born into a billionaire family, owners of the largest companies in Japan. Everything he wanted, he had. Expensive cars, huge mansions, designer clothes... He could buy whatever he wanted, without a second thought.

The parties he attended were always the most exclusive, and women always wanted to be by his side. He was the center of attention, the most desired, the most admired. People spoke of him as if he were a living legend, the most important and influential man who had ever existed.

He thought everyone wanted to be like him. His businesses were a success after another, and he always knew the right answer to any problem. He was invincible, the best at everything he did.

But suddenly, a voice interrupted his thoughts:

"Kazuya, are you there? Are the medications working?"

Snapped out of his thoughts, Kazuya looked at the man in front of him. This psychiatrist always interrupted him when he remembered his past.

"This psychiatrist who's been seeing me for 20 years still continues to bother me. Couldn't he just disappear? Ah, if only my lawyers were here... They'd sue him for defamation."

The doctor, noticing Kazuya's distant gaze, simply gave a friendly smile. He knew that, most likely, the man in front of him was internally cursing him.

After 20 years of seeing Kazuya, the doctor understood well how his mind worked. Kazuya, now 38 years old, had been imprisoned at 18 after a fit of rage where he killed a fast-food receptionist. His claim was that the man had disrespected him, a member of one of Japan's most important families. Later, during the trial, it was discovered that Kazuya suffered from advanced schizophrenia, a tragedy for someone so young. The promising future turned into a nightmare. Initially, he was sentenced to be committed to a psychiatric hospital, where he spent 12 years. His condition seemed to improve, and his family promised to take care of him.

In the end, Kazuya killed his own parents. Because of this, he was sentenced to life imprisonment in the same psychiatric hospital where he had spent the last 12 years.

After the daily consultation, Kazuya was escorted back to his room by two hospital guards.

Kazuya's room was simple and lifeless, reflecting the functional purpose of the psychiatric hospital. The walls were a faded white, already marked by time, giving the room a sense of emptiness and isolation. There was only a metal bed with a thin mattress and rough blankets, a reinforced plastic chair beside it, and a small bathroom at the back with only the bare necessities.

The only distraction in the monotonous space was a TV mounted on the wall opposite the bed. It was protected by a sturdy glass case, preventing any tampering. The TV was a means of escape for Kazuya, but even this connection to the outside world was limited and carefully controlled by the hospital.

"Let's watch Frieren," Kazuya said as he pressed a red button on the wall. This was the only "luxury" he had in the hospital, a small privilege he had managed to obtain after years of insisting. Between the cold walls and isolation, watching anime was his only escape.

It was evident that Kazuya was an otaku, someone deeply fascinated by the world of anime. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he eagerly awaited the TV screen to come to life. His usually apathetic expression gave way to a rare glimmer of anticipation. For him, those moments in front of the TV were the only times he could truly feel free, transported to worlds where heroes fought, true friendships were forged, and where he, for a moment, forgot where he was.

After finishing the latest episode of Frieren, Kazuya smiled contentedly. The ending had been interesting.

He looked at his bed and went to the pillow, which hid a secret. Lifting it, he revealed a simple but somewhat large kitchen knife, well hidden there. It was exactly what he needed for his plan.

Although he always had two security guards with him wherever he went, they had long since forgotten how dangerous Kazuya truly was. The vigilance of the two had become lax in recent times, and he had noticed it. If it weren't for this, how would he have managed to get this knife? They didn't believe Kazuya would do anything after so much time locked up there.

"But they're wrong. I'm going to get out of here. I'll kill everyone who thought I was crazy."

He carefully tucked the knife into the white pocket of his uniform and lay down on the bed. Feeling the adrenaline slowly calm, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

\*

The next day, Kazuya was in front of his room door, firmly holding the knife hidden behind him. Anyone would notice the suspicious way he kept his hand concealed, but the guards were so used to the routine that they didn't pay attention. To them, Kazuya was just another patient, someone who passively accepted being taken to the medical appointment.

Unlike many patients, Kazuya did not immediately show obvious signs of madness. Only when someone talked to him for a longer period did they begin to realize that his view of the world was very different from that of a normal person.

The guards arrived as usual. Kazuya watched intently as one of them took a key from his pocket and approached the door. He knew the two men well; he had been there longer than they had and, in a way, could even be considered a "senpai" to them. Kazuya knew exactly how to act. The plan was clear in his mind, and he had no doubts about what he needed to do.

As the guard started turning the key in the lock, Kazuya prepared himself. With a quick and silent movement, he advanced. With the knife still hidden, he went to the first guard and drove the blade with deadly precision. The man barely had time to react before falling to the floor, life draining from him.

The second guard, surprised by the sudden attack, tried to react, but Kazuya was already on him. In an instant, the knife did its work again, and the second man also succumbed to his injuries.

Alarms began to sound throughout the hospital, echoing through the corridors and spreading a sense of panic. Kazuya wiped the blood from his face with his uniform sleeve and quickly headed towards the doctor's office.

When Kazuya arrived at the office, he found the doctor paralyzed by the scene before him. Seeing the knife in Kazuya's hands, the doctor begged for mercy, his voice trembling with fear. Kazuya simply laughed, a cold and cruel laugh that echoed in the room.

Without hesitation, he advanced and, with a precise strike, plunged the knife into the doctor's chest as he sat in his chair. The man fell backward, but Kazuya didn't stop there. He delivered several more stabs to the doctor's body.

Looking at the body, Kazuya noticed something was missing. With the knife starting to dull, he tried to cut off the doctor's head. After a few seconds of effort, he succeeded.

Holding the bloodied head, Kazuya threw it near a trash can in the room and ran down the hospital corridor. Strangely, no guards appeared to stop him. He continued running, the blood staining his uniform, until, after a few minutes, he came across the hospital reception area, completely empty.

Without wasting any time, Kazuya headed for the exit. The sun he hadn't seen for twenty years bathed his body, and he felt a sense of freedom he had never experienced before.

"Finally free" thought Kazuya, as his vision began to blur and eventually darkened.

\*

"Bro, did he really think I wouldn't notice he was going to attack me with something?" the guard asked his colleague.

The questioned guard simply shrugged and continued looking for anything else Kazuya might have hidden in his room.

Reality was very different from science fiction comics. The guards had noticed Kazuya's recent restlessness. When they went to fetch him for the daily appointment, the man had a psychotic smile on his face while hiding his right hand.

Upon opening the door, Kazuya, already prepared, attacked them with the knife. The guards, who were alert, reacted quickly. They fired two shots into Kazuya's chest. He fell to the floor, still laughing grotesquely, before stopping breathing.