This is now the life of Diego Seijuro after transmigrating.
His past life followed the same trajectory as most others—an ordinary, uneventful routine of attending school and taking exams. Until his parents divorced, nothing particularly noteworthy had ever happened in his life.
The turning point came when he started job hunting after graduating from highschool.
Due to his field of study, his job prospects were quite limited, and he struggled to find suitable employment.
Through a friend's introduction, he joined a media company and became part of a team running a social media account focused on "anti-fraud awareness."
Although public awareness of fraud had improved over time, and people had become more cautious of scams, deception still lurked everywhere online and in daily life. New types of scams constantly emerged, presenting fresh challenges each day.
With the rise of AI, fraudulent schemes became even more sophisticated.
One day, you might laugh at someone for falling for a scam—only to find yourself its next victim the following day.
Diego and his colleagues produced videos exposing various fraudulent schemes.
To reveal these scams, they had to infiltrate them, experiencing firsthand how they operated.
Whether it was phone scams, rigged gambling tables, or the deceptive tricks of so-called psychics, Diego personally investigated them all.
At times, he even went undercover inside fraud syndicates, gathering incriminating evidence against them.
Much like a frontline journalist, his work was highly dangerous. He had several close calls where his cover was nearly blown, but his quick thinking always saved him at the last moment.
However, as the saying goes: 'If you walk by the river often enough, your shoes will get wet.'
During one of his undercover missions, Diego was discovered by a fraud ring.
The details need not be elaborated—but in short, he was killed.
His life ended suddenly, an unfortunate conclusion. But perhaps by some twist of fate, he was granted a second chance at life.
Diego found himself reborn in Japan, in the year 2003.
The year 2003 was a period of transition, where old and new eras intertwined.
With the boom of the internet and smartphones, a wave of scientific skepticism and anti-superstition was rising. People were generally becoming more doubtful of ghosts and spirits.
However, many were still anxious about the rumored "2012 doomsday."
Especially in Japan, where folklore and tales of supernatural beings had deep roots—whether it was ancient legends of yokai or modern urban myths like "Hanako of the Toilet" or "Kisaragi Station." There were still plenty who believed in the existence of the supernatural.
And where there is demand, there is a market.
Temples were everywhere in Japan—even in land-scarce Tokyo, shrines and temples were plentiful.
Although Fuyuki was more focused on the Catholic theme, that doesn't mean the Shinto temples are gone.
Beyond these traditional institutions, countless "exorcism agencies" sprang up in Japan, claiming to rid people of evil spirits.
And now, Diego Seijuro was running one such business—a shop called Almighty Exorcist taking on "exorcism" requests under the guise of an exorcist.
There was no actual supernatural power system in this world—at least, Diego had never encountered or heard of one.
Naturally, ghosts did not exist either.
To put it nicely, his job was about providing clients with psychological comfort. To put it bluntly—it was a scam.
In his past life, he had worked to expose fraudsters, yet in this life, he had become one himself. Diego had no choice in the matter.
To explain why, we have to look at what he inherited from his predecessor.
The original Diego has been in an accident and was left with nothing since most of his valuables were stolen and since he transmigrated, he does not have any of the original's memories.
Bank account password? Never heard of it. Phone? Gone. Keys? Probably inserted in another keyhole of anything but his.
It was unknown how he got here but apparently, he was a foreigner and had only been in Fuyuki City for no more than a month.
He has great grades from what he heard from Issei and for now, he's not required to attend school as a form of recovery.
However, this is his main problem. No money, no memories and no nothing. He was really in a helpless situation.
If he didn't have free shelter and food from the temple, he might have been sleeping in the streets or on a bench somewhere.
So he had to make a choice, using the Almighty Exorcist as a guise, he did something he thought he'd never do.
Pretending to be an exorcist.
Fate really has a funny way of playing things, in his last life, he was exposing frauds but now? He's a fraud.
He was quite hesitant at first, he heard from his uncle that the Almighty Exorcist was left by his mother before getting overtaken by him. It had quite the reputation before he was put into a coma.
Apparently, the original Diego was very consistent in his work to the point that after a week of being inactive, people assumed he left.
After all, that's what happened when his mother left so people did not find it strange. Add to the fact that they believe he was cursed or something and did not dare to step into this city anymore to avoid the wrath of the evil spirits he exorcised or their companions….
You know what? Last part does actually sound believable considering he was hit by a truck and almost died.
'But hey, at least we got money. I won't have financial problems with this.' Diego looked at the money in his hand, before smacking his lips.
He doesn't even know if he should blame scammers in his past life after experiencing this.
Then again, he's more "legit" than them even though he doesn't see it.
'But what was that?' Diego looked at his hand which catched Yuri's hand halfway. He didn't even notice his body moved until he was holding his arm but at that time, he had to keep his composure to avoid being seen through.
'It can't be helped'. Diego doesn't want to trouble himself with things he obviously doesn't have answers for.
He also considered whether he should not use his office, find a cheap daily rental room to stay in for the night, and then look for part-time work at a convenience store.
However, this shop was owned by his parents even if it wasn't used for a long time so it will be a waste if he disregards it.
For Diego, this is very impractical. He has resources, it wasn't what he expected, it's still something that he can use.
Even though it sounds bad to scam others.
For a while, Diego was at a complete loss.
He had never expected to time travel to the year 2003, so he had no memory of lottery numbers and couldn't get rich overnight.
Although he knew about the future of many businesses, he didn't have enough capital to invest in stocks.
As for Bitcoin, while it had been issued for a year by 2010, it was still largely ignored. It wouldn't see explosive growth until 2013.
In other words, even if he bought Bitcoin, he wouldn't be able to cash in until after 2013.
Right now, what he needed was money—fast money.
Speaking of fast money, gambling was the quickest way to get rich.
But Diego had seen too many gambling scams in his previous life and didn't believe he could win money through gambling.
Just as he was contemplating calling his family for financial support, the office phone suddenly rang.
He thought it was his parents. He lost his phone so he doesn't have that much of a choice other than to wait for them, at least that's what he heard from his uncle.
Maybe he'll escape this situation? Then again, how will he explain that he lost his memories? It might be devastating for them once they hear it.
However, the caller turned out to be a client.
This client suspected that there was "something unclean" in their home and wanted to hire the agency for an exorcism.
Diego knew that ghosts and spirits didn't exist—it was all just a scam for making money.
In his past life, he had worked in fraud prevention, so he naturally scoffed at such things.
Moreover, his parents weren't around, meaning no one could actually perform an "exorcism."
He was about to refuse when the client mentioned the payment—an amount Diego couldn't turn down.
Even though he knew it was wrong, even though he knew he shouldn't deceive people, Diego, driven by the need to survive, found himself agreeing against his better judgment.
That was the moment he took his first step onto the path of a "con artist"—a road of no return.
To build a reputation, promotion was necessary.
By 2003, the internet had already started developing, but because it grew so quickly, it was still in a wild west phase, filled with fake news and excessive advertisements.
Since there were no real-name verification requirements, people could brag as much as they wanted online without consequences.
Stories about elementary school students breaking world sprint records, people defeating tigers with a sliding tackle, or one person single-handedly fighting off thirty muscular men—these kinds of absurd claims were everywhere.
If you questioned them, they would simply say, "Everyone's physique is different. Just because you can't do it doesn't mean others can't."
At the time, many teenagers in their edgy phase would post online about being "Dark Flame Masters" or having "summoned familiars from another world."
These were just jokes for entertainment—nobody took them seriously. In comparison, Diego's claim of being an "exorcist" was barely noticeable, overshadowed by the surrounding ridiculousness.
To make people believe in his skills as a real exorcist, he needed to use more traditional media: newspapers, television, and good old-fashioned word-of-mouth.
There was also another cost-effective method—street advertisements.
After performing an exorcism for the Kimura couple yesterday, Diego had nothing to do today, so he took a stack of advertisement flyers and headed to the streets.
Dressed in an inconspicuous blue worker's uniform, wearing a cap, and carrying a metal bucket, he looked like a painter. Even standing by a wall, he didn't attract any attention.
When he saw that no one was around, he stealthily began pasting posters on the wall.
Diego had no money to advertise in newspapers or on TV, and his posts on paranormal forums had received little attention.
For now, his primary promotional strategy was sticking flyers on walls.
If even one person saw them and believed in his services, it would be worth it.
Seeing some flyers with sexual innuendos like "Call for a girl tonight," Diego calmly tore them down and replaced them with his own advertisements.
Japan was different from other places—it had legal red-light districts, so there was no need for such shady personal ads.
From his experience, most of these ads were just bait-and-switch scams, designed to lure in victims with false promises.
Worse yet, some of them were traps set by fraud rings specializing in "honey trap" scams.
People who fell for these scams often had families and reputations to protect, so they wouldn't dare report it or seek help, leaving them with no choice but to suffer in silence.
Moreover, there are many schools around here, and many junior high school and high school students pass by here every day. What if someone goes astray?
Although they were all scams, at least the store of his exorcism agency had clear prices and was operating in a formal manner. Even if someone wanted to cause trouble, he couldn't escape.
Diego Seijuro's exorcism office now had only one person—himself. However, beneath the advertisement, the list of services included more than just "exorcisms": spirit communication, fortune-telling, dream interpretation, divination... Each of these services in the field of mysticism required significant time and study to master, yet Diego had listed them all.
This wasn't false advertising.
He had at least some knowledge of all these skills.
Spirit communication and exorcism? Those relied on "acting" rather than genuine supernatural abilities.
As for fortune-telling and divination, those were about using complex, professional-sounding words to describe vague and ambiguous futures that anyone could relate to.
Dream interpretation? That was just a test of reading comprehension. You didn't need real expertise—just the ability to craft a convincing explanation that reassured the client.
In his past life, Diego had done extensive work in "anti-fraud" awareness campaigns, frequently dealing with so-called masters of mysticism. He had learned plenty of deception techniques from them.
Having encountered these scams countless times, he was intimately familiar with their tricks—so much so that he could perform them effortlessly.
Back when he filmed awareness videos, he often role-played as an "oracle" or similar persona to demonstrate just how easy it was to deceive people. Not just theoretically—he actually did it, proving the effectiveness of these tactics.
And the results? The number of people who fell for it was staggering.
Even highly educated university students were often easily tricked.
In fact, aside from the elderly, university students were one of the easiest demographics to scam—they believed anything you told them.
Now, despite having once been an advocate against fraud, Diego found himself doing the very thing he once spoke against. This did make him feel guilty, but… only a little.
Because Diego didn't believe he was truly scamming people.
"Fraud" was a broad term. When it comes down to it, what exactly constitutes fraud?
Legally speaking, fraud involves deception for the purpose of illegally acquiring a significant amount of public or private property through fabricated facts or concealed truths.
In daily life, common scams included fake text messages, fraudulent phone calls, and online schemes. These were indisputably fraudulent and punishable by law once caught.
However, whether charging people money for supernatural services constituted fraud was a legal gray area.
There was a specific legal precedent stating that if a person used "feudal superstitions" to defraud others, they could be charged with fraud.
But what exactly were "feudal superstitions"?
Was it fraud when monks collected incense money? No, that was religious faith.
Was fortune-telling and choosing auspicious dates for events considered feudal superstition? No, that was folk custom.
So when did fortune-telling cross into fraudulent superstition?
Take fortune-telling as an example:
If a fortune teller makes money simply by providing interpretations, it's considered a legitimate business transaction. You have a problem, you seek advice, and the fortune teller provides an answer, easing your worries—for a fee.
But if the fortune teller says you're facing a terrible fate and need to pay 500 dollars to resolve it with a ritual? That's fraud.
However, if the fortune teller states upfront that their services cost 500 dollars, requiring payment before reading your fortune, and then tells you your fate? That's not fraud.
In that case, the 500 dollars is simply a consultation fee.
If a fortune teller claims your financial luck is poor and offers to draw a charm for 5,000 dollars to improve it? That's fraud.
But if you ask the fortune teller how to improve your financial luck, and they recommend purchasing a 5,000 dollars charm for a blessing? That's not fraud.
The actions are identical, but by carefully choosing words and structuring the transaction differently, it avoids legal classification as fraud.
By this logic, what defines fraud? It occurs when someone is coerced or tricked into handing over money unwillingly.
Most fortune-telling clients seek out the service voluntarily. They hand over money of their own free will. That makes it a consensual transaction.
If you feel it's a scam, then simply don't visit a fortune teller.
However, if someone is lured into a fortune-telling service and charged exorbitantly under false pretenses, and they feel deceived, they can report it. The police will then investigate and determine whether fraud was committed under the guise of superstition.
It's like making an offering at a temple. If you voluntarily donate large sums for a blessing, it's religious faith.
But if you are pressured into donating money you don't want to give, and you report it, authorities may classify it as fraud.
Ultimately, where do we draw the line between superstition and religious belief?
One person's superstition is another's faith. It's all subjective.
That's why the key legal factor in fraud cases is whether the victim was "willing."
Diego had met many elderly victims of fraud in his past job. They had spent large sums on so-called blessed artifacts and worthless prayer beads.
Clearly, these scams were exploiting superstition for profit.
His former colleagues in fraud prevention would try to convince these elderly victims to report the scams. As long as they were willing to file complaints under their real names, they could get their money back.
This wasn't entirely out of kindness—exposing scams also made for good video content, benefiting both parties.
But most elderly victims refused to acknowledge they'd been scammed.
No matter how much they were persuaded, they firmly believed their purchases were worth the price. They didn't feel deceived.
In the end, the so-called master behind the scam was punished—not for fraud or superstition, but for tax evasion.
Only when the victim believes they were deceived does it legally become fraud. Otherwise, it's simply a voluntary transaction.
That's why Diego didn't believe he was committing fraud.
As long as his clients genuinely believed he was a legitimate exorcist, no one would accuse him of fraud.
Besides, while Diego knew he was deceiving people, to those in distress, he was a real master who could resolve their troubles.
Just like when people hire monks or Taoist priests for rituals—can they really exorcise spirits?
Of course not. It's just about giving clients peace of mind.
What Diego was doing wasn't any different.
Making money wasn't shameful.
Diego didn't see himself as righteous. He wasn't particularly cynical either. His moral standards were average. In his past life, he'd done fraud prevention campaigns simply because he couldn't find another job.
Now, it was the same. Being an "exorcist" was just a way to make a living.
People needed exorcisms, and Diego provided them.
In his eyes, he was earning his money fairly—maybe even doing a good deed.
It was a self-justification.
But strangely, as if agreeing or disagreeing with his words, the world in Diego's eyes cracked again, making him shake his head, turning his vision back to normal.
Seriously, he doesn't get what the hell are those he's seeing, it was nauseating but he eventually got used to it.
Whatever, he should finish this first.