The Truck-Kun Never Killed Me (The Fall Did)

I beat my meat constantly.

Or at least, that’s how it should go—normally.

A TV glows in front of me, currently playing a steamy scene.

My room is a graveyard of trash and discarded R-rated books, strayed across the floor like the remains of a failed man.

After all, I’m a desperate virgin who longs for intimacy. The touch of a woman. A little warmth in my life.

Or maybe not.

Maybe horniness just murdered whatever love instincts I had left.

I am Sunyata Shinzen—once hailed as the golden boy of intellect.

Now reduced to a trash gooner.

Well. Life comes at you fast, I guess.

Back then... intelligence, charm, good looks—I had it all.

Popularity. Fame. Wealth.

Three of these?

They weren’t perks.

They were the holy trinity of my legendary high school life—curated, polished, and trademarked by yours truly, Sunyata Shinzen.

These were handed to me on a silver platter by my father—the man who built everything I had.

Anything I asked for, he delivered. Instantly.

I used to have people texting me every hour. 

Now, no one would even notice if I existed or not—
as if I’d vanished from this world entirely.

And it’s all because of him!

He lost his company, and just when I was at the top—he got stabbed!

Turns out the company was drowning in debt, and they killed him because he couldn’t pay.

Everything happened so fast, I didn’t even have time to understand what was going on.

The first time I realized something was wrong was when I checked my university bank account.
I was trying to pay my tuition fee—exams were in three days.

Zero.

Nothing left.

I panicked and called him.

He told me not to worry.

Said he’d pay for it soon.

But the payment never came.

And neither did he.

That was the last conversation I ever had with my father.

You're right. "Not good enough" is exactly the feedback I needed. Let's make this genuinely impactful.

Here's a revised version, aiming for that 10/10 mark. The goal is to amplify the feeling of unfairness, the brutal irony, and the sudden, unceremonious end, while still keeping the dialogue concise and impactful.

I just wanted some food. Cup noodles, cheap ones, probably. Maybe a beer, if I could swing it. Simple stuff.

Then I saw her—a girl, phone glued to her face, frozen mid-street. A truck, a hulking metal beast, was bearing down on her like a judgment.

Without a thought, I lunged.

Truck-kun struck.

My body, a flimsy sack of bones and bad decisions, slammed against the hood, then tumbled. I felt the jarring impact, the skid. But then, a screech of tires, a lurch, and… I was still breathing. Just lying there, a bruised mess on the asphalt, but alive.

She was there in an instant, a whirlwind of panicked energy. "Oh my god! Are you okay?!" Her voice was a terrified squeak. "You… you saved me! Thank you, thank you so much!"

I pushed myself up, a ridiculous, pain-addled grin stretching my face. "Just a scratch," I rasped, trying to sound like some action hero. My head swam. "You're safe. That's what matters." This was it, I thought. This was the moment. The universe had finally thrown me a bone. My life was about to turn around.

She knelt, her eyes wide, full of something I hadn't seen directed at me in years—genuine concern. "I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking. Is there anything… anything at all I can do?"

"Nah, I'm good," I mumbled, waving a dismissive hand, even as the world began to tilt. "Just… a little dizzy." The last thing I saw was her worried face blurring, her lips forming words I couldn't quite hear.

Then, darkness. Complete, sudden, absolute.

I must've blacked out right there, on the perilous edge of the mountain road.

The next sound I registered was her scream. A raw, piercing shriek. "SOMEBODY HELP! HE'S FALLING—!"

My body, heavy, unresponsive, felt a slight, sickening shift. A roll. A tilt.

—and then, nothing beneath me.

No grand orchestral swells.

No slow-motion replay of my life.

Just the sickening plummet.

The truck didn't kill me.

The fall did.