Project Necro is an official initiative by Re:Library.

“Howaa… I’m so tired.”

I let out a yawn and rubbed my shoulders.
In reality, my body isn’t one to feel stiff, so this is purely psychological. The yawn included.
My physical body has already perished; I am now a spiritual entity. The body I’m moving right now is merely a temporary vessel meant to give my spirit a little rest.
Since I’m in the spiritual realm, everything I see is an illusion created by my mind.
The sensation of my body, the softness of the chair I’m sitting on, the warm green tea—all of it is nothing more than a simulation I’ve summoned into this world at my own will.

“Phew~”

I drink the simulated green tea, let out a simulated sigh, and open a simulated magazine.
My job is that of a “Boundary Maiden.” I serve as a bridge connecting different worlds. Within that role, I’m in charge of the “Reincarnation” system.
My job is to transfer “souls unfit for their worlds,” which happened due to the oversight of the Gods—beings above worlds—to a world where these souls can live properly.
To put it bluntly, I’m cleaning up after my bosses (the Gods).

…What a troublesome job, is it not?

My name has changed, my existence has changed, and even my role has changed.
In my previous life, I was just a shrine maiden who met my end as a human sacrifice.
In my world and my era, there was a custom of offering human sacrifices during castle construction or rain-making rituals.
Those were the days when I offered myself to the gods, filled with a sense of mission. Dear me, how nostalgic.
And just as I felt my life ebbing away—the very next moment, I found myself in a world of pure white.
Confused and at a loss, I thought for a fleeting instant, “The divine realm is quite a lonely place, isn’t it?” But in that brief moment, I understood my role.
It is a spiritual realm. Even without being spoken to, understanding comes simply by having it spoken—no, “imprinted”—directly onto the soul. I realized immediately that from now on, I would have to oversee reincarnation.
Ever since then, I have been engaged in this work. Decades, centuries… perhaps even millennia.

I lack for nothing. If I so wish, I can “assume a form virtually identical to my one in life,” just as I am doing now, and if I simply submit a request to the Gods (my superior), almost anything can be provided.
The magazine I have open right now is one such example. *Weekly Boundary*. It is the only information magazine in the countless worlds that is “exclusive to this world.”
Of course, if I wished, all the information would enter my mind instantly… but I like the sensation of “reading a book,” so I deliberately turn the pages and slowly take in each piece of information.

“Hmm, a new dessert in that world… I’ll buy it.”

In reality, I don’t pay for it since I can have it delivered just by requesting it, but since this phrasing captures the mood best, I suppose it doesn’t matter.
I use the simple phrase “that world,” but there’s no other name for it.
For example, there is a world with a planet called “Earth,” but that is not the name of the world itself.
In reality, beyond the planet lies space, and beyond that, the vast expanse of the galaxy.
A “world”—the sum total of all information within a single world—has no name.
Even the gods who manage it only refer to it as, “That world’s gone cuckoo. It’s deep in turd. Gonna get destroyed soon.” Since it’s a spiritual realm, “that world” is sufficient. Because we can share each other’s consciousness, individual names aren’t necessary.

That rule applies to me as well.
I had a name in my previous life, but I have no name now.
There are several of us Boundary Maidens in charge of reincarnation, myself included, but we are all nameless. If someone says, “That girl,” it reaches everyone through our shared consciousness.
It’s similar to what you’d call “uploading with an image” in a technologically advanced world. Since the details are clear at a glance, there’s no need to mention names one by one.
It feels both amazing and a bit crude. As someone who fervently worshipped the gods in my previous life, it makes me feel a little melancholy.

“It seems everyone is enjoying a good life.”

The latter half of the magazine *Weekly Boundary* chronicles the fates of those I’ve reincarnated.
Naturally, it also details how those I was responsible for reincarnating are living their lives.

Some have contributed to the advancement of science.
Some have brought peace to a great war that had raged for hundreds of years and ascended to the throne.
Still others have journeyed into space, embarking on an evolutionary voyage to connect human consciousness.

Honestly, every single one of them operates on such a grand scale.
As an “amend” for the mix-up, the reincarnated individuals have been granted abilities that deviate somewhat from the norm.
The extent of this deviation depends on the quality of their soul… but in most cases, they acquire abilities that could be described as “cheats” or “superhuman.”
Of course, it’s not all heroic feats. Some use the power granted to them to commit every conceivable atrocity. Like reincarnating as a god of destruction, for instance.
However, that is of no concern to the Gods. After all, their primary purpose is to “observe the world,” including its evil deeds.

I flipped through the pages briskly, searching for the article I wanted. My interest lied in one man.
In a certain world, there was a man who lived listlessly, looking almost like a woman.
It has been quite some time since I took on this role, but I had never encountered such listlessness as his.
There were many souls that were simply listless, but that was to be expected. Those whose souls did not fit into the world almost always had eyes that seemed to have lost their vitality.
But those were due to reasons like “resignation to being unrecognized,” “despair from the disconnect between oneself and others,” or “a soul smoldering from unfulfillment.”

But he was different.
He was simply, utterly listless. Far from accepting the phenomenon of reincarnation—which defies common sense—he simply brushed it off.
As if to say, “I don’t care about any of that.” He kept pleading that he just wanted to sleep.
His demeanor even seemed to suggest that he felt he had no choice but to do so.
Yet the reincarnation took place. He was granted power ranking among the top tier of all reincarnated individuals to date. Moreover, this was merely his initial ability—it held latent potential so great that, depending on his growth, he could even determine the fate of the world into which he was reincarnated.
I wonder how that guy is doing now. That is what interests me.
I flip through several pages until I reach that name.
Kuon Genji. The being I have reincarnated.

“Bwahahaha!”

I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it.
It was so ridiculous that I worried my temporary body might go into respiratory distress.
The page I’m looking at details Kuon Genji’s actions after his reincarnation, and there are a few photos attached.
To be precise, they aren’t photos—they’re snapshots of the scenery from that world—but since the principle, or rather the purpose, is the same as a photo, let’s not get hung up on the details.

“…?”

He was sleeping.
In a half-rotten bed, in a space resembling the back of a wagon, in a plush bed, buried in grass somewhere in a forest.
He was sleeping. He was sleeping all the time. There were only photos of him sleeping.
As for the details of his activities, if I had to point out something significant, it would be that he defeated monsters and saved a town.
Given the abilities granted, the scale of what he’s doing is far too small. Far from small—he’s doing practically nothing.

“…I take no responsibility for this.”

It’s not me who decides where reincarnated souls are sent; it’s the system created by the gods.
In other words, I’m not at fault. I did my job perfectly, as always. There’s no mistake.
I stopped thinking and gently closed the “Weekly Boundary.” I erased my physical body, the chair I had been sitting on—everything—and decided to get back to work.
The Gods (my superiors) make endless mistakes, and reincarnated souls are endless as well. That is why I, who stand at the boundary and oversee reincarnation, am so busy. So I know nothing about that guy. I don’t know. I don’t know, I’m telling you.

“Welcome, new reincarnator.”

Well then, let’s get to work.
I’m busy. Unlike some certain person who does nothing but sleep.