ULUHTWSBN 01

Chapter – 01

Soul Recycling

“Is it a full moon tonight?”

Accidents and crimes tend to increase during a full moon.

Mukai Ryosuke looked up at the moon and exhaled.
He could hear the wailing of ambulances and police sirens.

As if drawn by the noise,
the shopping district was packed with people.

Mukai sat on the guardrail of the arcade,
watching the scene unfold.

It was only seven in the evening.
People were still heading home from work or school,
so the streets were full.

Recently, most shops closed by eleven,
and the crowds peaked around nine before thinning out.

Mukai had just finished a can of coffee
and was about to throw it away when a voice called out behind him.

“Mukai, is it okay for you to be slacking off here?
There was an accident across the street.
There’s damage—shouldn’t it be your turn to step in?”

The man approached, swinging a convenience-store bag.

“Were there a lot of them?”
“A few people were staggering around. Ah, but don’t go into the alleys—it’s dangerous. I feel bad for Makino, but it’s better to avoid it.”
“Well, people always gather when there’s an accident.”

“More importantly,” Tadokoro said, interrupting Mukai’s idle talk. Mukai chuckled to himself.

“What is it?”
“Actually, I was called into the investigation room earlier. I thought my mission was done, but they asked if I wanted to extend it.”
“Extend it? Is that even possible?”

Mukai was taken aback.

“Yeah… apparently, in special cases, if the King of the Underworld gives the order, they can extend a term. There aren’t enough special investigators, so both the salon and the field are overworked.”

“How long have you been doing this job, Tadokoro?”
“Hmm… I started when I was forty. It’s been ten years, so normally I should retire at fifty. What about you, Mukai?”
“I started when I was thirty, so it’s been two years. I’m thirty-two now, but technically I’ve been around sixty-five. My mind can barely keep up.”
“That’s rough. It’d be funny if they extended yours.”
“Not funny,” Mukai grumbled, scowling at Tadokoro’s laugh.

Mukai belonged to the Dispatch Division, a subordinate organization under the Underworld Investigation Office.
The Dispatch Division’s role was to help spirits with lingering regrets pass into the underworld peacefully, without emotional burdens.

Tadokoro worked in the Elimination Division, which cleansed spirits who no longer carried regrets, erasing their memories and transforming them into new souls.

Sometimes, though, the process malfunctioned, and a reincarnated soul would retain fragments of past-life memories.
Even with safeguards, such errors were difficult to prevent.

Makino belonged to the Removal Division, tasked with eradicating spirits whose regrets were so intense that they turned into earthbound, vengeful, or evil spirits.

Other departments included Incineration, Regeneration, Environment, Protection, and Delivery—each with its own duties.

Animal spirits were treated separately from human ones: neglected pets, livestock, and wild creatures were all managed by the Shinigami Division.

Mukai had only learned all this after his death.

Life, he realized, did not end even in death.

Those belonging to these divisions were considered “exceptions.”
People who died before their natural lifespan were frozen in time, preserved in the form they had at death, and spent their posthumous existence traveling between the underworld and the human world as servants of the King of the Underworld.

The rarity of such exceptions meant that any death—whether from accident, crime, or illness—was still considered part of one’s lifespan.

Even souls themselves had lifespans.
When too worn to regenerate, they were sent to the Incineration Division, purified into dust, sealed in urns, and then reformed by the King of the Underworld into new souls.

These purified souls were distributed into new lives at the King’s command.

The underworld, too, had its own territories.

When a person of a different nationality died in a foreign land,
their soul was sent to that country’s underworld.

Human souls, in this way, were recycled.

The salon, where souls awaited reincarnation,
served as a lounge for spirits from the Dispatch and Protection Divisions—
a place where the dead could gather and converse as they awaited their next life.