I knew I smelled something fishy...Well, I was eating gas station sushi, so that was expected.
What I didn't expect was someone lacing the damn container with crack.
I got killed… by gas station fish.
"Are you done brooding?"
No, Mr. Giant Light Construct, I am not done yet.
"Take your time. We have all of eternity."
I still can't believe I died that way... Only twenty, with a promising life—
"Cough."
A loving girlfriend—
"Cough."
And loyal friends who were with me every step of the—
"COUGH!"
"ALRIGHT! I was broke, single, and no one even remembered my name after the first conversation! HAPPY?!"
"I have no reason to be happy for your miserable life," says the being made of literal light. "I just… had a sore throat."
…Wait.
Is that a—
A Gameboy?
Gods play Nintendo?
Well I'll be damned…
Anyways, back to my inner monologue.
I, John Johnson—awesome name, I know—died because of some stupid teen's prank.
Or... at least I think I just dropped dead.
I look up at the being now sitting cross-legged in midair. God? Satan? A glowing Final Fantasy summon? I have no idea.
All I know is he promised to reincarnate me because my death was "too funny to waste."
"No, you did no such thing," the light-being says flatly. "After getting dosed, you took off your clothes and ran straight into traffic."
"Truck-kun killed me?"
"No, you made it out safely."
I blink. "…Then how did I die?"
The being sighs.
"From shock. After you saw yourself in the news, pole dancing on top of the Washington Monument. How did you even get up there?"
…
I stare at him.
Then stare at myself.
Then stare at eternity.
"…Just kill me."
"You are currently dead. Awaiting reincarnation."
Right... So... Is there an OP isekai protagonist package?
"Not really. Everyone that passes through here gets a CYOA form to fill out. Bonus points depending on how you died."
Points? I have… 10.
"IT SAYS HERE THE MINIMUM IS 100?! To guarantee being reborn as a human costs 30!"
"Yeah, about that… At least it's not negative."
I stare at the glowing form, my hopes sinking faster than my dignity at a family reunion.
So basically… I'm broke in the reincarnation economy.
"Can I get a loan or something? Like a celestial credit card?"
"Sorry, no credit. But…" The ROB perks up like they just remembered an afterthought. "You did make a splash on the news. That counts for something."
Before I can ask if that's good or bad, a retro Nokia-looking phone materializes out of nowhere and starts ringing — loud, obnoxious, and definitely cursed.
"Ugh. Not this again..." the ROB mutters, grabbing it.
"Yo, I heard about your epic exit. Gotta say — respect the hustle."
I blink.
"That voice sounds familiar..."
"Hai, Kazuma desu."
No fucking way.
"Listen, I'm feeling generous. Gotta support my kindred soul. Sending you some CYOA points. Use 'em wisely. Or, y'know, just dump them all into plot armor like any sane person would."
The phone buzzes, and suddenly a glowing counter appears in front of me, ticking upwards from 10... 50... 80... 120... The numbers finally stop glowing as I watch the much longer counter settle—more than two thousand points deposited into my afterlife debit account.
"Thanks, I guess?"
"Don't mention it. Oh, and pick your origin wisely. 'Prodigy Young Master' or 'Fallen Hero' for that edgy vibe—solid choices, trust me."
The call ends with a click, barely giving me time to respond before the white glowing ROB sighs. "Do what he said, or pick something else. There are better options."
"I don't know… Living as a salted fish in a prestigious clan sounds nice…"
"Then pick it. Why waste time talking?" He doesn't have a face, but I swear he rolled his eyes. I feel it in my nonexistent bones.
I smirk, selecting it instantly. "Prodigy Young Master it is. Now for my power... Uh… can I pick anything?"
I glance back at the glowing CYOA form—a long list of powers stretching out in front of me, from explosive farts to chaos magic. Everything's sorted alphabetically, with filters, tabs, and even a favorites button at the top.
"Just choose one or more in your budget range. Remember, don't go over the point limit or you might start off with some curses and such."
"Not ominous... not worrying at all..." I mutter, staring at the menu.
The list scrolls smoothly, but wait—did that power just scroll away on its own?
I narrow the filter to "most endorsed" and start scanning faster.
"Fart of the Apocalypse — 1 point."
"Double Chaos Magic — 700 points."
"The Ability to Cook Perfect Instant Noodles Anywhere — 1 point."
"Absolute Sneezing Supremacy — 2 points."
...I scroll faster.
"Infinity Drive: Soul Devourer — 3000 points."
"Sword of Laws Broken — 5000 points."
Then one last entry catches my eye:
"Gatcha Essence (Limited-Time Banner: God-Killer Lottery) — 50 points."
It sparkles.
"That one," I say, jabbing my finger at the floating box. "Why does it sparkle and why is it so cheap?"
"Well... you're as likely to become omnipotent as you are to disintegrate into poop particles."
"It's a limited-time banner…"
"I will advise you to think again."
"FUCK IT, WE BALLIN'!"
The ROB sets the Gameboy down and rubs the bridge of his nose. "You sure? It's unstable. Weird. Very likely to break reality and annoy me specifically."
"Perfect. I'll take it."
"There will be no refunds…"
"Doesn't matter! Where do I sign?!"
A giant stack of papers suddenly drops in front of me.
"Read this and sign the first page. It's a liability waiver, along with a list of everything that can go wrong and… you already signed it."
That I did, big guy. That I did…
The Gatcha Essence suddenly appears before me—a glass vial filled with a swirling rainbow liquid.
"Will this turn me zesty..." I mutter.
I stare at the vial. It shimmers with shifting colors like oil on water—and I swear I can hear a faint, malicious giggle. The essence hums in my palm, vibrating like a soda can full of eldritch disappointment.
"The chances are low," the ROB repeats flatly.
"Define 'low.'"
"Statistically non-zero."
"That's comforting," I say, popping the cork.
The moment it opens, the air around me screams in three languages and one sound effect:
[GATCHA ESSENCE – INSTALLING.][Warning: System not approved by any known pantheon.][Do you wish to proceed?]
→ Yes→ Hell yes→ Lick the vial
I lick the vial.
The ROB doesn't react. He's dead inside.
[You have selected: "Hell yes" in chaotic tongue.]
The liquid leaps from the vial and violently forces itself into my face. Not my mouth. My face. It phases through my skull like a downloadable curse patch.
My entire body convulses like I just installed a pirated Skyrim mod made in MS Paint.
The divine UI goes haywire.
[INSTALLATION COMPLETE!][Banner Unlocked: "GOD-KILLER LOTTERY – LIMITED EVENT"][First spin granted.]
A giant golden wheel appears in the sky. Choir music blares. Confetti falls from nowhere. A kazoo blares the national anthem of a country that doesn't exist.
I grin.
"Oh hell yeah."
The wheel spins.
CLACK CLACK CLACK CLACK CLACK—
Sections flash past:
Passive: Lawsuit ImmunitySkill: Sword That Whispers MemesTrait: Infinite Cool HairWeapon: Cosmic Wet SockSkill: Unlimited Dance WorksCurse: Everyone Thinks You're Their ExSummon: Nicolas Cage (Eldritch Variant)
And then…
[CONGRATULATIONS! YOU HAVE ACQUIRED: Passive – Unnatural Plot Armor (MAX)]
Reality bends slightly in my favour. The wheel explodes in confetti. Somewhere, a Celestial trips over their own shoelaces.
"You... you weren't supposed to pull that first try," the ROB mutters. His Gameboy melts from sheer spiritual irritation before reforming. He clicks his tongue at his now-lost save.
"Get better gacha rates, scrub," I say smugly, brushing imaginary dust off my ethereal hoodie.
"You still have 1,850 points," he says dryly. "Might as well keep spending. Or don't. Reality's already unstable around you. Do what you want."
I scroll through the power list again. Still enough points to build the cosmic equivalent of a Warlock-Edge-Lord-Barista hybrid.
"Let's keep it simple: Kryptonian body!"
"We're out of stock."
"The fuck you mean out of stock?! What about a Keyblade?"
"We don't have permission to use it. Nintendo somehow managed to trademark it. Too complicated to explain."
"I honestly expected that... Devilishly handsome looks?"
I flinch as my points drop by a hundred.
"Lucifer trademarked that word," the ROB says, utterly deadpan.
"So what can I get that isn't owned by some celestial megacorp or demonic fashion icon?"
"I don't know. Try filtering by 'legally gray' or 'morally bankrupt.'"
I mash the floating filter screen with all the precision of a toddler at an iPad convention. The power list shuffles with a sad trombone noise.
Passive: Situational Genius (Only triggers when doing something stupid) — 10 pointsSkill: Explosive Entrance (You explode. Once.) — 5 pointsTrait: Creepy Aura (No one wants to ask you questions) — 15 pointsPassive: Always Lands Cool (Even if falling from orbit) — 25 pointsSummon: Slightly Above-Average Duck (Can scream in Latin) — 8 pointsWeapon: Banana That Never Misses — 12 points
I raise an eyebrow.
"This is the discount bin."
"No. This is the 'we gave this to a guy once and he accidentally conquered a universe' bin. We had to nerf the duck."
I squint at the duck listing.
There's a footnote:
'Extremely loyal to THE EMPEROR OF MANKIND.'
Tempting.
"How about some other essences? They should be free of any patents, right?"
"The Gatcha one was on a discount because of how unpredictable it is. If you're ready to take on some... small disadvantages, you can make it work."
"Alright… what should I suffer to get something like the Archmage Essence?"Please don't make my pp smaller. I barely have enough as it is...
"Unfortunately, you'll only know after you make your choice. You can choose between one major curse or three medium ones."
"How bad is 'Major' and how mild is 'Medium'?"
The ROB doesn't answer immediately.
He closes his eyes—if he even has any—and lets out the kind of sigh you'd expect from someone who's watched entire civilizations burn because one moron asked for "just a little fire magic."
"Let's just say..." he begins, slowly rotating his GameBoy like a celestial stress cube,"...a major curse is the kind of thing that makes the devil look away in sympathy."
I stare. He stares.Somewhere, the Gatcha Essence giggles in reverse.
"...Medium?"
"You might lose your memory of basic human etiquette. Like pants. Or develop the inability to fall asleep without violently glowing. Maybe get haunted by the ghost of someone still alive. Mild stuff."
"So like a game glitch version of trauma."
"Exactly."
I lean back, mentally preparing for the worst.The Archmage Essence glows temptingly on the menu — radiating high-tier stats, mana mastery, and what I'm 80% sure is the ability to cast Fireball using just sarcasm.
Archmage Essence – 4000 points
User receives innate understanding of all forms of magic, massive mana pool, auto-learns spells by witnessing them once, and can counterspell by raising an eyebrow. Side effects may include glowing veins, occasional time rifts, and unpaid magical debt from past incarnations.
Tempting doesn't even begin to cover it.
"...Gimme the Archmage Essence. I'll take three medium curses."
The ROB tilts his head. "Brave."
A dark popup window immediately slams open like an angry door in a bad dream:
[Curse 1: "Hot Potato Soul"]You will randomly take over the body of someone of medium to high importance once every month.Neither of you are warned.And it is up to you to protect your own body during the time.Cooldown: NoneNote: Can be suspended during boss fights. We're not monsters.
[Curse 2: "Behold, The Sleepcaster!"]You occasionally cast high-tier spells while unconscious.Targets: Random direction.No refunds.
[Curse 3: "The Cursed Aura of Main Character Energy"]Everyone assumes you're important.People will either fall in love, try to kill you, or both. Especially side characters.
"...You know what?" I whisper, eyes wide."I love all of these."
"Of course you do," the ROB grumbles. "You somehow managed to win the lottery four times in a row. You're the reason we have a legal department."
"Do I get a lawyer?"
"You get the duck."
I click "CONFIRM."
Word Count: More than 2000, IDK, I'll stop worrying about it from now on.
Well, well, well... What do we have here? Another Marvel gacha essence novel?Overdone, right? Predictable. Derivative. All flash, mostly trash, no chaos.
WRONG.
Those other stories wish they had actual randomness.
Thanks to Bronzdeck's ChaosGacha, this story runs on real 100% pure gacha energy — glorious, glitchy, and unfair.
Wanna spin the same chaotic system for your own story? It's totally free and open-source:https://github.com/Bronzdeck/ChaosGacha/releases
Also pay their P-a-t-r-e-o-n a visit! I am not getting paid, nor am I held at gun point to say this!
This one will only be getting chapters whenever I feel like it and on days when my main Pokémon fanfic doesn't drop a chapter.
You should totally check that one out, btw. It's right below.
Either way, you're getting 7+ chapters a week across two books, so be grateful!
Other than that?
Stay Safe!
Obviously, enjoy the novel, and...
Send power stones when you can!