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18.18% MHA: Jigsaw Reborn / Chapter 3: Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely

Chapitre 3: Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely

(A/N: I know this is only the third chapter, but what are your guy's thoughts on the writing so far? Is there anything that I can improve on? Please, let me know! With that out of the way, I hope you enjoy the chapter!)

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[1 Week Later]

[John Kramer's POV]

Ever since I've reincarnated to this place, I've had the same dream over and over again. It always took place in a classroom with a bunch of students and an absent teacher who I could only assume was on an errand run. This body always sat at the back of the class, just adjacent to some lockers where the teacher stored his supplies and teaching material.

The students, who were roughly 16 or 17 years old in appearance and mannerisms were always rowdy as they typically are. They chatted amongst themselves about the latest album release or a fight they saw on the news or a game they played the night prior, but they never took the initiative to talk with the body I now inhabited.

It was almost like this person was invisible to them.

'A small group of boys should be arriving right about now…' I think to myself, wanting to get the dream sequence over with. Just as the thought ended, the doors to the classroom burst wide open, gaining the quick attention of the class before they went back to their conversations.

It was a trio of boys, one with silver hair, one with black hair, and one with blonde hair. Their eyes quickly met mine as the bunch smirked, quickly making their way to me by shuffling through students and the arranged seats.

"Yuudai my boy," the blonde-haired boy initiated the same conversation I'd heard many times before. He put his arm on my shoulder and roughly patted it as he spoke once more. "You got the money you promised us yesterday, right?" 

Almost immediately my body responded as I could only watch the scene unfold. "Uhhh, yeah sorry about that, I needed to use some of-" My body was interrupted from talking as the blonde-haired individual quickly moved his hand from my shoulder to around my neck.

The two other boys behind him snickered as a few of the students beside me looked on, but just as quickly turned their focus back to whatever they were doing moments prior. "Listen here, quirkless fuck," the blonde-haired boy said in a lower, quieter, yet more aggressive tone. "If you don't give me your damn money, I will beat you into your face is black and blue."

The man's hand glowed a faint red as he spoke. And even though this was just a memory, I still felt the pain and suffocating feeling that the previous inhabitant of this body felt at that exact moment. It felt hard to breathe as my vision started to blur and fade into black until I found myself on my bed in my apartment.

"That same memory…" I muttered under my breath once more as I got up. Quirks — that's what this society was based on. Once people meet a certain age, they awaken superpowers that range from altering their physical appearance to moving things with their minds or controlling the elements.

Coming from a world where that stuff came from fiction, it was surreal to see with my own eyes. But the individual whose body I took over after Jeff failed his test, was born without such powers. He… and by extension myself, are quirkless.

I was quick to understand that this body wasn't treated well growing up. The ignorance from the classmates seeing Yuudai being mistreated by an individual physically stronger than him spoke volumes of the overall society I now live in. It's why this place has heroes who use their power to protect those in need. That much I could infer from all the news broadcasts and rankings posted all over social media websites.

Yet it irked me. The notion of strong individuals — heroes — being ranked on popularity based on how many people they saved, how cool they looked, or how strong their quirk was… it felt artificial. Toppled with the fact that these heroes were used for the faces of brand deals plastered all over ads and on the street, the whole thing didn't feel genuine.

But people consumed it happily.

"How could people live like this?" I asked myself as I got ready for work, but I knew the answer to that. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. It existed like that in my previous life, and it sure as hell does exist in this life too.

These people are ungrateful for the power bestowed on them. Like the blonde-haired individual from the memory of this body, they misuse their power on those weaker than them rather than uplift those in need. The people are no better, and turn a blind eye to the injustice right next to them.

Whoever wrote me, John Kramer, that note, wanted to see what chaos I'd bring to this world. No… I won't bring chaos. I'll bring change to society, to the people. Just as I did before, I'll make sure they truly appreciate life and the powers they possess…

[Scene Change]

The job I had was simple and straightforward. I owned and worked in a small convenience store near my flat. And as its only employee, I was in charge of everything.

From the logistics of things, it was enough to pay the bills and keep things re-stocked for customers. It was a peaceful job, and I liked it.

As I was in the middle of re-stocking an aisle full of chips, I heard someone enter the store, courtesy of a bell that rang when the door was swung open. "I'll be with you in just a second," I called out to the customer as I was nearing completion of the menial task.

The individual didn't say anything as I heard his footsteps get closer to me. I took a glance backwards to see who the person was but was met with my life threatened. The individual, a man who could only be described as a thug wearing all black, held his forearm to my neck.

I didn't move, as I could only memorize his face and look at his forearm, from which jutted out a silver metal line as if it was the sharp end of a knife (which it most likely was). The man's face could be described as gruff. He was fairly muscular and appeared to be in his 40s. Most notably on the forearm that grew a knife, was a very interesting tattoo design of a snake which coiled around a stick.

"Can I help you, sir?" I asked calmly and politely, unfazed by the forearm knife that was pressed against my neck. "Give me all the fucking money at the cash register, or I slit your throat," the man huffed. "There's no need for the aggression, sir. But I do advise that you're making a mistake," I replied, still carrying my politeness.

"Mistake my ass," he mocked. "Do what you're told and we both get what we want. Me the money, and you… your life." I sighed and nodded. "Very well, sir. Please follow me to the register and I'll hand you the money."

The robber escorted me to the cash register, with our footsteps being the only thing breaking the tense silence. "Why do you do this?" I asked curiously, still feeling his forearm on the back of my neck. "You could have used that gift of yours for good, you know? Instead, you use it to fulfil your selfish desires."

The robber took a moment to reply to me as we finally arrived at the register. "Shut up," he quipped. "Open the register, and hand me the money. Cut the bullshit small talk and I can leave without my arm being covered in blood, understood?"

I did what I was told and handed him the stack of cash he so desired. He looked at it for a moment, before deactivating his quirk and leaving the store in silence. 'That tattoo…' I thought to myself. 'I'll be sure to remember it. I hope you're a fan of games, sir.' I let out a small smile. 'Because I sure am…'

(A/N: Quite the interesting chapter, I hope you liked it! Nonetheless, please share your thoughts or concerns with a comment or review! Is the grammar alright? Would you like longer chapters? Let me know!)


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