In Another World with Truck-kun (Yet Another Damn Isekai Story)
10-15-2019, 07:41 AM (This post was last modified: 10-19-2019, 03:01 PM by Black Aeronaut.)
10-15-2019, 07:41 AM (This post was last modified: 10-19-2019, 03:01 PM by Black Aeronaut.)
Argh.
Here I am, supposed to be working on a bunch of other shit.
AND I GOT AN IDEA FOR AN ORIGINAL ISEKAI STORY THAT WON'T LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE.
I blame https://writeordie.com/ for this. Dr. Wicked truly lives up to his name.
Anyhow, here. Tear it up, guys. Keep in mind that I wrote this on a web app that promotes sheer word output above all else. There's been minimal editing done on this.
Basic premise comes from the writing prompt, "What if the truck that killed you came to the next world with you? IN ANOTHER WORLD WITH TRUCK-KUN!" Except my expy doesn't get nailed with a truck...
I saw him, just an ordinary fellow looking at the trucks at a rest stop.
Oh, me? Nothing special - just a rest break. I was driving cross-country for a move that I honestly didn't want to make.
But the guy there seemed a little odd. Not in the way he dressed or anything, though it seemed slightly antiquated with his wide brimmed hat and heavy duster coat. It was in how he gazed at the tractor-trailer rigs in awe. They shouldn't be that interesting.
Should they?
At the moment, I saw another semi-truck pulling into the rest stop. There was only one available space left, and the guy in the duster coat was standing right in it. The driver would never see him until it was too late!
"HEY! WATCH IT WATCH IT!" I cried out as I ran over to him and pulled the guy out of harm's way. He was perplexed by my actions until the semi-truck rolled past us with only scant feet to spare.
I breathed out a sigh of relief. "Dude, you gotta be careful standing out here. Truck drivers don't always have the best viewing angles."
"Thank you, kindly, stranger!" said the young man - he was definitely youthful - he couldn't have been any older than eighteen. "Forgive me for my absent mindedness. Where I'm from, I've never seen such vehicles as these!"
I blinked at that. "You haven't?"
"Oh no. Our own forms of conveyance are much smaller and very much simpler."
What kind of podunk back-water did this guy come from?
He then continued, "If the merchants in my land had such vehicles, I could only imagine the prosperity it would bring. But I fear they might be too big."
I blinked again. Too big? Podunk Backwater wasn't cutting it. Was this dude Amish on Rumspringa or something?
But me being me, I was a helpful soul, so instead of exclaiming on his apparent experience, I pointed out my own truck - a modest little Mazda B-series using the third-generation Ford Ranger body, complete with a simple camper shell and a 5x10 two-axle enclosed rental trailer.
"Why not something like my truck. It's got plenty of cargo space, and it can even tow a trailer, too."
"Oh my! Why, that is a wonderful machine you have there," he said as he walked towards it.
Scrappy was my pride and joy. I had taken great pains in keeping the truck repaired and maintained because it had literally saved my life once. At a time when I was homeless, Scrappy's cargo bed with it's basic camper shell gave me a place of shelter and storage. I kept food in coolers, cooked on a camping stove, and slept in a cot in the back of my faithful and dependable little truck.
"I can tell that you place a great deal of love and trust in this vehicle." said the Man.
"You could?"
"Indeed. It's a well worn device. But it's still in great shape. Very much like a good pair of old trousers. And this device on the back... I can tell that it fulfills some kind of function with the way it's meant to slide in and out, but I cannot for the life of me suss it out."
He was talking about the brake actuator on the trailer's tongue. The trailer in question was an older 5x10ft van-trailer model from a popular rental company well known for its reliable trucks and trailers.
"It's called a surge brake," I explained. "When I use the brakes to slow my truck, the momentum of this trailer and it's load causes it to press up against the hitch. When that happens, a cylinder filled with oil is compressed, and pushes the fluid through steel tubes into the brake cylinders on all four wheels of this trailer. It's so effective that I hardly even notice that I have the trailer."
"Truly? This is indeed a wondrous device you have, good sir! Perhaps I should invite you to my homeland. It would be a blessing if you could provide services in transporting goods there."
I blinked at that. "Is that a job offer?" I asked.
The man smiled at me. "And if it is as such?"
"I would ask what it would pay."
The young man nodded sagely. "A fair question. Monetarily, I would not be compensating you. That will be up to the people whose goods you are transporting. However, I will personally see to it that your health is maintained and that your vehicle will never have need of repairs."
I blinked again. "A health plan and a maintenance plan? And what if there is an accident that damages my truck?"
"Then I will also see to it that it is of no matter."
I raised an eyebrow. "That sounds too good to be true. What's the catch?"
"Ah, you have a sharp mind, good sir. In this case, I would have you work for my people until you're of an age to retire... And given all the good you can do with such a magnificent machine, I imagine that your retirement would be very comfortable indeed."
"And if I change my mind?"
He gave me a somewhat smug little smile. "You won't. My homeland is a place of great bounty and plentiful beam. And the woman-folk there are all quite pleasant... each in their own ways, anyhow."
My eyebrows crawled to the top of my hairline. "Hold the phone, you're trying to bribe me with girls!?"
"Oh? Am I mistaken? Perhaps you have other preferences. It's not so strange."
"Not that!" I cried out. "I mean that other bit makes it sound like you're a human trafficker!"
He blinked at me in confusion. "A what now?"
I sighed. Simple folk. Simple terms. "You deal in slaves!"
"Oh, no! Great maker forbid it! While others may do such things, I assure you that my followers are not of that mindset. The person must be free to live their own life on their own terms."
I frowned at that. While it was a nice sounding platitude... "You haven't happened to have read a book called The Fountainhead, have you?"
"Should I have?" he asked in confusion.
"Don't," I said flatly. "It espouses platitudes similar to what you were talking about, but at the cost of exploiting others in the process. They claim that this 'Objectivist Philosophy' does not promote such things, but the logic does not follow. To follow those teachings, you must exploit others unfairly."
"Oh, I see. That is dreadful. Worry not, good sir. For while my followers are of the merchant's mindset, we follow a path of benefiting each other in our dealings - mutual enrichment through commerce and trade."
"So, capitalism with a socialist slant. I can get behind that. But here's the final question: how do I know that everything you've told me isn't some fantasy?"
He then smiled cunningly at me. "Fantasy, you say? When you live in such a world with such incredible wonders?" He then laughed softly in spite of himself. "I would imagine that my homeland would seem to be a fantasy land to you. But I assure you, it is very much real."
"Well, we have a saying that seeing is believing."
"Is that so? Then perhaps I shall show you, then..."
And then suddenly I was no longer in Texas.
It looked and felt like Texas.
But gone were the rest stop and the freeway. Gone were the wheel noise of hundreds of cars and trucks moving at 85 miles per hour. Gone was the faint hint of diesel exhaust.
In it's place, rolling hills covered with vibrantly green oak forest. Clear blue skies - like one of Texas's Frog Stranglers had blown through - as far as the eye can see. And a simple, lonely, dusty two-track trail, carving it's way through the hills.
The only things that remained were myself, my truck and trailer, and the strange man.
I looked around, my heart beginning to race as the excitement and anxiety built up in my chest.
"Where are we?" I breathed out.
"In a world like the one you were in before, but different. Here, technology has not advanced much because magic fulfills most of the needs of the common people. Here, we Gods walk the Earth and take great care of our young ones. Here is a world where you can make real and honest change."
"You're not kidding, are you." It wasn't a question, and he only smiled smugly at me reply.
I went and sat down on a nearby rock and out my head between my knees and simply focused on breathing and getting my mind in order. After what seemed like hours, though, I finally felt myself begin to settle once more, and I addressed the man without moving from my spot.
"Why me?"
"Why not?" he replied.
I sighed. "Okay, not the best question to ask. Better question: Why at all?"
"Why at all indeed. I am a God of Commerce and Trade. Every time people here make a fair deal with each other, they are doing so with my commandments to my faithful in mind. As a result, this country is one of the better ones to reside in. However..."
"However?" I asked.
"The people here have stagnated. There is no innovation because they see no need for it. This land is prosperous... but it is not what your people have aimed to become."
"My people are selfish, greedy, and arrogant backstabbers who desire nothing more that to live in some fantasy world of kings and serfs."
"Not all of them. Some of them dream of better things. You are one of them. You dream of going to far off lands. You are Ishmael. "I am tormented with an everlasting itch for things remote. I love to sail forbidden seas, and land on barbarous coasts." Though you love your home, you also desire to see what is out there. What is strange and unknown. To learn and innovate. To bring people to a higher understanding and spread prosperity.
"Believe it or not, these are essential traits of the merchant man. Without exploring the unknown, you will never find and develop new markets and new opportunities. You will never spread the prosperity that I so wish for my people to have."
"Okay then. So, that answers why at all and why me. Now, do you honestly think that I can do this? If this world is as primitive as I think you're implying, then I will not have the materials to maintain my truck."
The God smiled at me. "I already told you this will not be an issue. I have blessed your wonderful machine to be resistant to the wiles of entropy. It will be many decades until something will need to be fixed. And you, for that matter, will have that same boon."
"Your health will be seen to, huh?"
The God smiled. "You should look at yourself in the mirror."
That took me aback as I recalled a saying, when a God laughs, you run as fast as you can. I went to look at myself in one of Scrappy's sideview mirrors and I could not believe what I saw.
"I'm a kid again!?"
"You are of the age of eighteen - the age at which young men are permitted to go out into the world to make their livings. Although I should mention that they are usually well cared for despite that."
"Doting families?" I asked.
The God grinned. "In a manner of speaking, yes."
I sighed. "Okay, this is going way beyond just transporting goods or even fomenting development. You've got an angle you're working."
"You're not wrong, for certain. I will tell you this much: just be the person you are now - a good man that will help others in need. One who believes in fair trade and equal value. One who is unafraid to stand up for what he believes in."
"I don't know about that last part."
"I know. Your past has been a hurtful one." I gave the God a glare as he went on. "I do not blame you for your anxieties. They are not of your own making. They're the work of a man who had no idea what to do with a dreamer like you. But I know that had things been different... I know that your mother was likened unto the Moon - demure, sweet, gentle, and beautiful; that your father likened unto the Sun - bold, strong, brilliant, and intense. Had things been different, you would have been the beautifully shining morning star between then, becoming a beacon for others to home in on."
"Had things been different," I spat out with resentment.
"I know. The past is the past, my good sir. But here? You can start again. You can prove yourself in a world that is unfettered by preconceptions of education - where people care about raw ability and the goodness of their hearts. With this, you can make waves that will bring about great and wonderful change in this world - change that is long overdue in coming."
"There will be people that resist that change."
"Some. However, once others see how it can benefit their lives, the majority will embrace it."
I sighed at that. "So. I'm in some Isekai story, huh?"
"Isekai, what on... OH!" And with that, the God laughed mirthfully, but in a way that I knew did not mean bad news for me. "You are quite the genre-savvy one! That will be of great assistance to you here."
I then reassessed my thoughts about him laughing. I was fucked.
"hooo boy."
The God chuckled once more, then said in a kindly tone, "Do not fret so, my good sir. You will find that this world is quite agreeable with you, even though you will run into troubles at times. In the face of your intellect and your heart, they will not be insurmountable to you."
"Troubles, huh?"
"Don't worry about that for now. You will have plenty of time to steel yourself for what is to come. For now... Follow this trail. It will lead you to the city of Saint Antonius. You will find it familiar in some ways, and there will be plenty of work there waiting for you."
"And what about my belongings?" I asked. "I can't just dump them in the street."
"You're a resourceful man, my good sir. Consider this my first testing of your abilities as my agent in this world. Impress me, good sir."
He disappeared and I sighed. There was nothing more left for me except to jump into Scrappy and start driving.
Man, the rental company was gonna be upset about not getting their trailer back. But as far as I was concerned, they could just suck it. Here, it was as good as mine and as soon as I could, I would set to removing their livery from its aluminum skin.
---
I drove carefully over the trail. While it was well packed, it was still rough and primitive. And if this really was Texas only but through a mirror... then I knew this trail would become impassible once the rains came.
And come they will. I could see bluebonnets, painted brush, and the myriad of other Texas wild flowers carpeting the meadows and glades that I passed through with a riot of colors. This was Texas Springtime in full swing, which meant the thundershowers came quickly and frequently in these parts. At one point I startled some roosting birds into the air, and in turn sent up a massive flock that curtained the sky for several minutes until they all settled once more, now inured to the unique sound of my truck.
And then I met my first locals.
Here I am, supposed to be working on a bunch of other shit.
AND I GOT AN IDEA FOR AN ORIGINAL ISEKAI STORY THAT WON'T LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE.
I blame https://writeordie.com/ for this. Dr. Wicked truly lives up to his name.
Anyhow, here. Tear it up, guys. Keep in mind that I wrote this on a web app that promotes sheer word output above all else. There's been minimal editing done on this.
Basic premise comes from the writing prompt, "What if the truck that killed you came to the next world with you? IN ANOTHER WORLD WITH TRUCK-KUN!" Except my expy doesn't get nailed with a truck...
I saw him, just an ordinary fellow looking at the trucks at a rest stop.
Oh, me? Nothing special - just a rest break. I was driving cross-country for a move that I honestly didn't want to make.
But the guy there seemed a little odd. Not in the way he dressed or anything, though it seemed slightly antiquated with his wide brimmed hat and heavy duster coat. It was in how he gazed at the tractor-trailer rigs in awe. They shouldn't be that interesting.
Should they?
At the moment, I saw another semi-truck pulling into the rest stop. There was only one available space left, and the guy in the duster coat was standing right in it. The driver would never see him until it was too late!
"HEY! WATCH IT WATCH IT!" I cried out as I ran over to him and pulled the guy out of harm's way. He was perplexed by my actions until the semi-truck rolled past us with only scant feet to spare.
I breathed out a sigh of relief. "Dude, you gotta be careful standing out here. Truck drivers don't always have the best viewing angles."
"Thank you, kindly, stranger!" said the young man - he was definitely youthful - he couldn't have been any older than eighteen. "Forgive me for my absent mindedness. Where I'm from, I've never seen such vehicles as these!"
I blinked at that. "You haven't?"
"Oh no. Our own forms of conveyance are much smaller and very much simpler."
What kind of podunk back-water did this guy come from?
He then continued, "If the merchants in my land had such vehicles, I could only imagine the prosperity it would bring. But I fear they might be too big."
I blinked again. Too big? Podunk Backwater wasn't cutting it. Was this dude Amish on Rumspringa or something?
But me being me, I was a helpful soul, so instead of exclaiming on his apparent experience, I pointed out my own truck - a modest little Mazda B-series using the third-generation Ford Ranger body, complete with a simple camper shell and a 5x10 two-axle enclosed rental trailer.
"Why not something like my truck. It's got plenty of cargo space, and it can even tow a trailer, too."
"Oh my! Why, that is a wonderful machine you have there," he said as he walked towards it.
Scrappy was my pride and joy. I had taken great pains in keeping the truck repaired and maintained because it had literally saved my life once. At a time when I was homeless, Scrappy's cargo bed with it's basic camper shell gave me a place of shelter and storage. I kept food in coolers, cooked on a camping stove, and slept in a cot in the back of my faithful and dependable little truck.
"I can tell that you place a great deal of love and trust in this vehicle." said the Man.
"You could?"
"Indeed. It's a well worn device. But it's still in great shape. Very much like a good pair of old trousers. And this device on the back... I can tell that it fulfills some kind of function with the way it's meant to slide in and out, but I cannot for the life of me suss it out."
He was talking about the brake actuator on the trailer's tongue. The trailer in question was an older 5x10ft van-trailer model from a popular rental company well known for its reliable trucks and trailers.
"It's called a surge brake," I explained. "When I use the brakes to slow my truck, the momentum of this trailer and it's load causes it to press up against the hitch. When that happens, a cylinder filled with oil is compressed, and pushes the fluid through steel tubes into the brake cylinders on all four wheels of this trailer. It's so effective that I hardly even notice that I have the trailer."
"Truly? This is indeed a wondrous device you have, good sir! Perhaps I should invite you to my homeland. It would be a blessing if you could provide services in transporting goods there."
I blinked at that. "Is that a job offer?" I asked.
The man smiled at me. "And if it is as such?"
"I would ask what it would pay."
The young man nodded sagely. "A fair question. Monetarily, I would not be compensating you. That will be up to the people whose goods you are transporting. However, I will personally see to it that your health is maintained and that your vehicle will never have need of repairs."
I blinked again. "A health plan and a maintenance plan? And what if there is an accident that damages my truck?"
"Then I will also see to it that it is of no matter."
I raised an eyebrow. "That sounds too good to be true. What's the catch?"
"Ah, you have a sharp mind, good sir. In this case, I would have you work for my people until you're of an age to retire... And given all the good you can do with such a magnificent machine, I imagine that your retirement would be very comfortable indeed."
"And if I change my mind?"
He gave me a somewhat smug little smile. "You won't. My homeland is a place of great bounty and plentiful beam. And the woman-folk there are all quite pleasant... each in their own ways, anyhow."
My eyebrows crawled to the top of my hairline. "Hold the phone, you're trying to bribe me with girls!?"
"Oh? Am I mistaken? Perhaps you have other preferences. It's not so strange."
"Not that!" I cried out. "I mean that other bit makes it sound like you're a human trafficker!"
He blinked at me in confusion. "A what now?"
I sighed. Simple folk. Simple terms. "You deal in slaves!"
"Oh, no! Great maker forbid it! While others may do such things, I assure you that my followers are not of that mindset. The person must be free to live their own life on their own terms."
I frowned at that. While it was a nice sounding platitude... "You haven't happened to have read a book called The Fountainhead, have you?"
"Should I have?" he asked in confusion.
"Don't," I said flatly. "It espouses platitudes similar to what you were talking about, but at the cost of exploiting others in the process. They claim that this 'Objectivist Philosophy' does not promote such things, but the logic does not follow. To follow those teachings, you must exploit others unfairly."
"Oh, I see. That is dreadful. Worry not, good sir. For while my followers are of the merchant's mindset, we follow a path of benefiting each other in our dealings - mutual enrichment through commerce and trade."
"So, capitalism with a socialist slant. I can get behind that. But here's the final question: how do I know that everything you've told me isn't some fantasy?"
He then smiled cunningly at me. "Fantasy, you say? When you live in such a world with such incredible wonders?" He then laughed softly in spite of himself. "I would imagine that my homeland would seem to be a fantasy land to you. But I assure you, it is very much real."
"Well, we have a saying that seeing is believing."
"Is that so? Then perhaps I shall show you, then..."
And then suddenly I was no longer in Texas.
It looked and felt like Texas.
But gone were the rest stop and the freeway. Gone were the wheel noise of hundreds of cars and trucks moving at 85 miles per hour. Gone was the faint hint of diesel exhaust.
In it's place, rolling hills covered with vibrantly green oak forest. Clear blue skies - like one of Texas's Frog Stranglers had blown through - as far as the eye can see. And a simple, lonely, dusty two-track trail, carving it's way through the hills.
The only things that remained were myself, my truck and trailer, and the strange man.
I looked around, my heart beginning to race as the excitement and anxiety built up in my chest.
"Where are we?" I breathed out.
"In a world like the one you were in before, but different. Here, technology has not advanced much because magic fulfills most of the needs of the common people. Here, we Gods walk the Earth and take great care of our young ones. Here is a world where you can make real and honest change."
"You're not kidding, are you." It wasn't a question, and he only smiled smugly at me reply.
I went and sat down on a nearby rock and out my head between my knees and simply focused on breathing and getting my mind in order. After what seemed like hours, though, I finally felt myself begin to settle once more, and I addressed the man without moving from my spot.
"Why me?"
"Why not?" he replied.
I sighed. "Okay, not the best question to ask. Better question: Why at all?"
"Why at all indeed. I am a God of Commerce and Trade. Every time people here make a fair deal with each other, they are doing so with my commandments to my faithful in mind. As a result, this country is one of the better ones to reside in. However..."
"However?" I asked.
"The people here have stagnated. There is no innovation because they see no need for it. This land is prosperous... but it is not what your people have aimed to become."
"My people are selfish, greedy, and arrogant backstabbers who desire nothing more that to live in some fantasy world of kings and serfs."
"Not all of them. Some of them dream of better things. You are one of them. You dream of going to far off lands. You are Ishmael. "I am tormented with an everlasting itch for things remote. I love to sail forbidden seas, and land on barbarous coasts." Though you love your home, you also desire to see what is out there. What is strange and unknown. To learn and innovate. To bring people to a higher understanding and spread prosperity.
"Believe it or not, these are essential traits of the merchant man. Without exploring the unknown, you will never find and develop new markets and new opportunities. You will never spread the prosperity that I so wish for my people to have."
"Okay then. So, that answers why at all and why me. Now, do you honestly think that I can do this? If this world is as primitive as I think you're implying, then I will not have the materials to maintain my truck."
The God smiled at me. "I already told you this will not be an issue. I have blessed your wonderful machine to be resistant to the wiles of entropy. It will be many decades until something will need to be fixed. And you, for that matter, will have that same boon."
"Your health will be seen to, huh?"
The God smiled. "You should look at yourself in the mirror."
That took me aback as I recalled a saying, when a God laughs, you run as fast as you can. I went to look at myself in one of Scrappy's sideview mirrors and I could not believe what I saw.
"I'm a kid again!?"
"You are of the age of eighteen - the age at which young men are permitted to go out into the world to make their livings. Although I should mention that they are usually well cared for despite that."
"Doting families?" I asked.
The God grinned. "In a manner of speaking, yes."
I sighed. "Okay, this is going way beyond just transporting goods or even fomenting development. You've got an angle you're working."
"You're not wrong, for certain. I will tell you this much: just be the person you are now - a good man that will help others in need. One who believes in fair trade and equal value. One who is unafraid to stand up for what he believes in."
"I don't know about that last part."
"I know. Your past has been a hurtful one." I gave the God a glare as he went on. "I do not blame you for your anxieties. They are not of your own making. They're the work of a man who had no idea what to do with a dreamer like you. But I know that had things been different... I know that your mother was likened unto the Moon - demure, sweet, gentle, and beautiful; that your father likened unto the Sun - bold, strong, brilliant, and intense. Had things been different, you would have been the beautifully shining morning star between then, becoming a beacon for others to home in on."
"Had things been different," I spat out with resentment.
"I know. The past is the past, my good sir. But here? You can start again. You can prove yourself in a world that is unfettered by preconceptions of education - where people care about raw ability and the goodness of their hearts. With this, you can make waves that will bring about great and wonderful change in this world - change that is long overdue in coming."
"There will be people that resist that change."
"Some. However, once others see how it can benefit their lives, the majority will embrace it."
I sighed at that. "So. I'm in some Isekai story, huh?"
"Isekai, what on... OH!" And with that, the God laughed mirthfully, but in a way that I knew did not mean bad news for me. "You are quite the genre-savvy one! That will be of great assistance to you here."
I then reassessed my thoughts about him laughing. I was fucked.
"hooo boy."
The God chuckled once more, then said in a kindly tone, "Do not fret so, my good sir. You will find that this world is quite agreeable with you, even though you will run into troubles at times. In the face of your intellect and your heart, they will not be insurmountable to you."
"Troubles, huh?"
"Don't worry about that for now. You will have plenty of time to steel yourself for what is to come. For now... Follow this trail. It will lead you to the city of Saint Antonius. You will find it familiar in some ways, and there will be plenty of work there waiting for you."
"And what about my belongings?" I asked. "I can't just dump them in the street."
"You're a resourceful man, my good sir. Consider this my first testing of your abilities as my agent in this world. Impress me, good sir."
He disappeared and I sighed. There was nothing more left for me except to jump into Scrappy and start driving.
Man, the rental company was gonna be upset about not getting their trailer back. But as far as I was concerned, they could just suck it. Here, it was as good as mine and as soon as I could, I would set to removing their livery from its aluminum skin.
---
I drove carefully over the trail. While it was well packed, it was still rough and primitive. And if this really was Texas only but through a mirror... then I knew this trail would become impassible once the rains came.
And come they will. I could see bluebonnets, painted brush, and the myriad of other Texas wild flowers carpeting the meadows and glades that I passed through with a riot of colors. This was Texas Springtime in full swing, which meant the thundershowers came quickly and frequently in these parts. At one point I startled some roosting birds into the air, and in turn sent up a massive flock that curtained the sky for several minutes until they all settled once more, now inured to the unique sound of my truck.
And then I met my first locals.