"Search the room!"
"Cuff this bastard, in case he gets any funny ideas!"
"Leave it to me."
I didn't resist as one of the cops walked over and put handcuffs on me, and let's just say that he wasn't gentle, roughly pushing me down to the floor and yanking my arms behind my back. Damn it, that hurts...
"Hey, I found something! Looks like it might be the murder weapon!" Called out a cop who had gone to the balcony.
Huh? Did he just say murder weapon? I'm sorry, what!?
He entered the room, holding up a hammer coated in dry blood.
"The hell? That's not mine, I-...," I started to defend myself, before the cop who handcuffed me raised my head and slammed it back down, my chin hitting the tile painfully, a stinging pain erupting upon impact.
"You're under arrest for murder, you lowlife. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have a right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you!"
Is this...is this for real? What the hell...what the hell is happening right now!?
...
...
Several hours later, I was in a prison cell, bruised and battered. My...everything hurts. The cops were pretty rough with me before they took me to the police station, where I was interrogated.
Apparently, a prostitute was found dead on my doorstep with her head bashed in, and one of the neighbors called the police and reported it.
I suppose it's only natural that they'd assume I did it...though I don't know what kind of murderer would leave their victim laying on their literal doorstep.
If it were only that, I might have been able to convince them of my innocence. But the bloodstained hammer on my balcony had them convinced, along with gloves covered in the same blood. Whoever framed me removed fingerprints out of the equation completely.
I tried to point out that someone could've chucked it up onto my balcony, and even said that I remembered hearing a thud before I went to sleep, but they didn't buy my story.
Instead, they pointed out my blood alcohol percentage, which indicated that I had gotten drunk last night. It soon became all too obvious that they had no intention of even considering my innocence in this matter.
Heh, if only I'd installed that security system a day sooner, I could've avoided this whole mess...fuck me, what the hell did I do to deserve this, anyway?
I'm...I'm probably gonna die soon, aren't I? Once the cops found out that I was the son of my parents, they became a whole lot colder than they already were.
My innocence or guilt is probably irrelevant at this point, they're gonna convict me no matter what I say or do. And there's probably no point in trying to prove my innocence, I doubt any reputed attorney will be willing to take on my case and defend me to begin with.
And my court date is set for two whole weeks from now...as I was being escorted to this cell, the guards made sure to announce who I was, especially emphasing my former family name.
Given the murderous glares that a lot of the other prisoners were giving me, they definitely wanna kill me. And I doubt the guards will stop them...one of them literally said 'try not to get shanked' as he locked me up, before laughing as he walked away.
Man, this room is disgusting...it smells like shit, the tiles are all cracked and dirty, and it's terribly ventilated. I feel sick.
You know, what, at this point, I feel like it's hard to say that my life could be any worse. I was always under the impression that many people had it worse than me around the world, that's why I rarely openly complained about my own life.
Sure, I complained a lot in my own head, but I bit my tongue and avoided saying that stuff out loud because I thought it could always be worse. But it really doesn't really get much worse than this.
I was despised by my own family, and I despised them right back. I put up with it for two decades, and when I was finally freed from that miserable life and tried to turn things around for myself...that barely lasted a day, and through absolutely no fault of my own.
Is this some kind of sick joke? Yeah, I know that I'm not exactly a saint, I don't even consider myself to be an objectively good person, but...come on, I don't deserve this shit, do I?
I thought I was finally free from my family, but I was wrong...yeah, I don't even have to think twice to figure it out, there's absolutely no doubt in my mind whatsoever that my aunt was involved in this.
I mean, who else could it be? If I die, she's the closest family I've got in terms of blood ties, so she'll get all my money. At least, I think that's how it works. I don't know much about law.
I then reached down and picked up a jagged piece of broken tile...this looks pretty sharp, maybe I can use this to defend myself till my trial. Heh, yeah, right.
Should I try and fight for my freedom, try to prove my innocence with everything I've got, so that I can at least say that I tried? No, why even bother...what would be the point of that?
I scoffed as I stared at the sharp piece of tile I was holding...defend myself, huh, who am I kidding? If the other prisoners gang up on me, a makeshift weapon like this will be little more than a joke.
There's no point...I don't stand a chance of proving my innocence, not when everyone's already convinced that I'm guilty.
And even if, by some long shot, I manage to avoid getting life in prison or whatever...what do I have to go back to?
My aunt is unlikely to give up on getting my money, and then there's the court of public opinion. I could change my name again, maybe get plastic surgery to change my face too, but what's the point, where's the guarantee that something like this won't happen again?
I stared back down at the shard I was holding, running my fingertips across the edge, nicking one of my fingers and drawing out blood, which trickled down my palm...maybe...maybe it'll be easier to just...end it all.
This life, it's...it's just not worth living. I then shook my head and put the shard down with a grimace, letting out a strained sigh.
Calm down, there's no need to be too hasty. Who knows, maybe by some miracle, things will work out. I should at least try to convince the cops to investigate my aunt. I mean, she's a member of my family, so they should be happy to get a chance to convict her too.
If she's proven guilty, then by default, I'll be proven innocent...actually, that might be the only possible way to prove my innocence. But there's no denying that it's a real long shot.
Still, it's not impossible, so I-...hm? What the...? There's a group of five men outside my cell, with murderous smirks on their faces.
They don't look like guards...because, well, they're wearing the same jumpsuits that I was told to wear. In other words...they're prisoners too. Which is weird, because they're holding keys. And they're out of their cells.
"Hey, there. It's quite an honor to meet you...I have to say, I was pretty bummed when I heard someone had offed that fucking family, but looks like I'm in luck, one's landed right in my lap on a silver platter," Grinned one of them, as he unlocked my cell and opened it, all of them walking in before shutting the cell.
Guess my optimism was misplaced. The guards must be helping them in order to have me killed, huh?
"If you're gonna kill me, just get it over with already," I sighed in response.
"Ohh, you're not getting off that easy. In fact, we might let you live," Smirked one of them, before unzipping his pants and pulling out his dick.
Oh, hell no.
That's it, I'm fucking out. Enough is enough, already.
As they began to approach me, I quickly grabbed the tile shard I'd found earlier...and pierced it straight into my throat, letting out a strangled gasp of pain as I punctured through my windpipe, coughing out blood in agony.
Sh-shit...this hurts like hell, damn it!
"Ah, crap, the little bastard just offed himself," Sighed one of them, as I tightened my grip and violently yanked the shard out of my throat with a twist, collapsing onto the ground as I bled out, unable to breathe.
Fuck...this is really how it ends, huh? What a shitty life I led...ostracized by my family, never finding a purpose or objective, and just when things were starting to look up, I was framed for murder, out of nowhere.
Damn it...it's not fair. What the hell did I do to deserve any of this? I didn't want much, just a simple, peaceful and uneventful life would've been enough to make me happy...and now thanks to the very family that ostracized me, I'm dying.
Everything's starting to go dark, and the pain is fading...looks like this is it. Heh, who knows maybe I'll get reincarnated into a better life?
Nah, who am I kidding...I'm pretty sure you need to get run over by a truck to get isekai'd. Yeah...I probably should've just jumped out in front of a moving truck ages ago. Heh...I can't believe these are the final thoughts I'll ever have...
.
.
.
.
.
.
"Whoever said that being run over by a truck was the prerequisite for reincarnation?"
Hm? A woman's voice? Some sort of hallucination?
"How rude, I am not a hallucination," Came the voice again with an indignant huff.
What the...? Everything's getting...brighter. Wait, it feels like I can breathe again...and there's no pain.
"Huh? Where am I?" I frowned, looking around...everything's all white, stretching out endlessly as far as the eye could see.
And right before me...was a slender, blonde woman with bright blue eyes and big boobs, wearing a flowing white dress.
"Welcome to what you would call the afterlife. I suppose you could call me God," She greeted me.
"So, then God is a woman with big tits, huh? No wonder the world is so fucked up," I sighed dryly.
"Wha-...that's so rude! I do not involve myself with the living world, every perceived awful thing there is one hundred percent the fault of you humans. I mean, literally no other species kills their own like humans do," She pointed out in response.
This is really weird...but whatever, I'll just go with the flow instead of freaking out, it's not like I've got anything left to lose, after all.
"Fair enough. Okay, so...what's next for me? Am I getting sent to either heaven or hell, or will I be reincarnated, or will I be reduced to nothingness?" I inquired with a raised eyebrow.
"There's actually only two possibilities...when a human dies, their soul is either cleansed and reincarnated at random, starting afresh as a new person with no memory of their previous life. Or they're given the option to reincarnate in a world of their choosing, with the chance to customize their new life and body.
But for the latter option, there's two conditions that need to be met...the first, is to have lived an unfulfilled life with little happiness or satisfaction. And the second, is to have died young. And you just so happen to have met both those conditions...you have the option to customize your reincarnation, congratulations!" She grinned while clapping enthusiastically.
Huh...cool.
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