Chapter 13

“My turn,” Truck-kun said, “How did you know how to find me? I had barely been in your town for an hour, and you lay down in front of the vehicle I had enchanted.”

“Patterns,” I said, “and a pathologic attention to detail only a nerdy internet forum can summon. Have you ever seen nerds engaged in their passion? We gathered data. We used public databases, figured out your patterns, built servers to monitor everything.”

At this point I felt like bragging. “Pets act odd when you’re nearby, and people post about it on social media. Traffic changes. Vehicles you’ve chosen emit a strange ultrasonic frequency. You appear near ancient burial sites. The list goes on.”

Truck-kun nodded and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Animals hate my kind. How is it possible to gather that kind of information?”

“Welcome to the internet age, Truck-kun. You’re good with magic and ancient and dangerous. You’ve got that cool shimmering white hair thing. But I’m what an unhealthy obsession, tech skills, and limitless caffeine can accomplish.” I raised my arms in a ‘TADA!’ kind of motion.

Truck-kun raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not much, I know. But I’m a business logistics expert. I analyze data and thanks to my skills negotiating contracts the company I work for has been successful for years.”

Nyarin tilted her head. “So you jumped in front of a truck?”

I smiled. It was a sad smile. “Well, my ah,” I looked between the two of them, “my life hasn’t been going to plan for some time. Working hard for a corporation doesn’t mean they respect you. I’ve had some setbacks. Do you guys have it any better with your boss?”

Truck-kun nodded. “My employment contract specifies only four days a week. And I get sick days and holidays off.”

“Spirits have contracts?”

“Well, mine is written in ancient script under most moss into the living bark of a camphor tree.”

“Oh, sensible. How much paid time off?”

Truck-kun smiled. “Eight weeks per year.”

“Really? Nice. How much time do you get off for lunch?”

Truck-kun nearly answered, then winced. “Kind of off topic.”

“Right,” I said, “anyway, there’s so much data out there, in public databases, social media, public cameras. You’d be surprised what you can find. We eventually estimated that our network detected you about twenty percent of the time you were out hunting. Now my turn.”

Truck-kun nodded.

“How can I get out of here?”

Both Nyarin and Truck-kun looked surprised. “You want out of here?” Nyarin said, “I thought you were a sure thing. You practically volunteered. Now you want to leave? Man, I’m going to have a hard time making my quota this quarter.”

“No way, you’re telling me the ancient goddess monitors productions metrics?”

Truck-kun shrugged. “She’s taken to modern tools to survive.”

Nyarin sighed. “Yeah, I missed productivity goals last year. They made me watch this stupid, boring motivational video and write up a plan to blah blah blah.”

“Hey,” Truck-kun said, sounding genuinely offended, “I planned that stupid, boring motivational video. It’s not my fault they had a Kappa demon read all of the lines. Those guys are so boring they think a cucumber is a spicy snack.”

Nyarin’s ears went back defensively. “Oh, ah, I liked the part about ‘being a spirit means having team spirit’, it was very motivational.”

“Anyway,” I said, interrupting Truck-kun’s glare at Nyarin. “This whole Isekai thing hasn’t been what I expected.”

“What did you expect?” Truck-kun asked. “Besides, it normally takes a few memory wipes before the average customer settles in.

I frowned. “And you’re sure those memory wipes don’t cause permanent damage, right?”

“Oh, at least sixty percent sure.” Truck-kun reassured me, and I’m pretty sure he was joking. “The truth is, we can’t keep you here if you actually want to return to the real world. The spell can’t hold a truly unwilling prisoner. It’s why we target jaded, disaffected people with no one in their life. People who reek with regret. Disaffected losers without hope in the future who…”

“Okay, you can stop describing me.” It had been my dream for nearly a year to escape to an Isekai. There was a daruma sitting in the entrance to my apartment, one eye drawn in as a testimony to my quest to “find a place where I can finally be happy.”

“My turn,” Truck-kun said with finality that suggested it was the last question, “I’ve been working with dreams and magic for centuries. Something went wrong with the Isekai spell. I shouldn’t be trapped here. The spell is supposed to capture a jaded soul fearing death, yearning for something more as they act heroically. Fear, yearning, heroism. The spell requires all three. Clearly something went wrong. Were you by chance carrying any powerful ancient relics? Had you recently been blessed by a shinto priest?”

“None of that,” I said, thinking back. I had been worried that I would lose a chance to escape my life. “There was a young boy there, as your truck was passing by.”

Truck-kun nodded, “saving a boy from a truck would be heroic enough for the spell trigger. Can you tell me more about the boy you saved?”

I winced. “Well, I didn’t save the boy.”

Truck-kun glared at me. “What did you do?”

“Well the boy had a cat…”

Truck-kun sighed. “A cat.” He glanced at Nyarin whose ears flattened in response. “I suppose saving any living thing can be considered noble. Even a cat.”

“Ah, it was a toy cat. A stuffed animal.”

“You risked your life to ‘rescue’ a stuffed animal?”

I rubbed the back of my head in embarrassment. “I really wanted to escape to an Isekai. I kind of took the toy from the boy and tossed it in front of your truck before diving to save it again.”

Truck-kun looked like it’s slapped a grenade under his neck. “You WHAT?!” Truck-kun lost his concentration and the red glowing eye thing stopped. The world grew fuzzy again. Memories flashed before my eyes. I was so happy to land a good salaryman job. Sachiko had celebrated with me that night at a yakiniku restaurant. I cried when Sachiko had broken up with me, ending our engagement. I was fascinated reading Truck-kun Isekai Fan forums about a better place for me to live my life.

Nyarin was falling over with uncontrolled laughter. “A stuffed cat! This is too rich.”

The world dissolved. It felt like I was falling and floating and expanding into nothing like a cloud of smoke all at once.

“Dammit,” I said, closing my eyes, “not another Isekai.”