Chapter 28

The “that time I got Truck-kun reincarnated as a slime"- slime struck at me again, but this time I was ready. I ran my red fiery eyes over the slime and saw into it with True Vision. New information poured into my mind faster than I ever could have read it.

Slime had a solid core in this Isekai, but they had evolved with a core that had the same color and index of refraction as the rest of their body. Now I had no idea what an ‘index of refraction’ was, but whoever had designed this Isekai did. I just knew the core was solid and invisible

That is, the core was invisible unless you had cool red fire vision. And I had that. Because I’m awesome.

I reached out and slapped the slime, my hand connecting solidly with the invisible core deep inside. Truck-kun fell to the ground stunned and quivering in pain.

“It was a good plan,” I said to Nyarin without turning my eyes from Truck-kun, “It had everything: balanced goals for everyone involved, the possibility of inexplicably grateful maidens in my future, and a solid set of steps to accomplish everything.”

I squatted in front of Truck-kun, studying him and soaking up every bit of information about him that I could. This next part of my plan was going to be especially difficult. “There’s only one problem. I don’t want to live in an Isekai any more. I want to live my life. I’ve been drifting along without a purpose for too long. Can you agree to that, Truck-kun.”

“I’m going to kill you,” he said, pulling himself together again.

“I thought so. So let’s you and me figure out who is stronger, TRUCK-KUN.” I said the last part, his hated name, really loud and obnoxious like.

Truck-kun struck again before he was ready, when he was still half-stunned and off balance. An odd flexible snout but with beak parts opened and actually ate its way out of the slime construction in the dream that had held him inside. Something about the size of a large dog folded out of the tiny slime as the real, natural form of Truck-kun materialized.

I was no expert on Baku, but deep in my childhood memories I recalled being told they were hideous creatures made out of the spares left behind after the gods had used the best parts on the creatures they loved and respected. The Baku was a spiritual mongrel that fed on dreams.

And everything around Truck-kun was composed of lies and dreams. He was surrounded by food. His chains were made of energy ready for him to consume. He had strength, experience, magic, and endurance I could never possess. Meanwhile I had no real advantages.

Honestly, I had been in tougher situations negotiating for my company. The key to negotiating is understanding the other person, how they think and limit themselves. Truck-kun had everything to win, but none of that mattered if I made him use all of his resources incorrectly.

“And here we go, round one of the fight!” I said as Truck-kun finished uncoiling himself with evident discomfort from a container about one tenth of his actual size. “On one corner we have centuries of experience, a fearsome spirit body, and the ability to eat dreams. In the other corner is a nerdy Isekai obsessionist with no life.”

Truck-kun roared, but it came out equal parts squeal, screech, and howl.

“Bring it on!” I yelled, “I’m a level 80 mage, you national geographic scrap pile!”

And then the real fight began.

The Baku ate the ground beneath my feet. He simply reached forward with a mouth slash snout slash tentacle that included the little arms that praying mantises have near their mouths to feed in food. It looked horrible. And he ate the ground under me.

The floor beneath me disappeared, but I was ready for that. I could see the Baku’s mind and moves almost before he could.

I focused, denying the reality around me. Instead of falling down through the hole created by the Baku, I fell toward it, already extending my leg in a kick.

Nyarin landed on her feet, like any respectable cat would, as gravity shifted according to my will. Meanwhile I landed a foot solidly in the midsection of the Baku. Awkwardly I realized that when my feet connected with its ribcage that the bones shifted oddly.

A quick glance with my True Sight confirmed that it had multiple rib cages, swimming around in that body like tofu chunks in miso soup. It was a shapeless blob of safari leftovers. I should have been sickened I guess, but honestly the Baku seemed so cool.

It let out a scream, wail, hoot sound of frustration after I kicked it. It tried to summon it’s own True Vision, but this was my mind, regardless of what Truck-kun was or how long he’d been eating dreams. I was ready for him.

I didn’t know as much about the rules of magic in each of these worlds as Truck-kun did, but I knew Isekai stories like the back of my hand.

This kind of story with the protagonist stuck in some peculiar body but usually provided some special ability to compensate. The plot was mostly about them building progressively upon that special ability or relationship.

I didn’t have time during a fight to build on anything. I needed power now, and my opponent had too much experience and mystical dream eating abilities to let this be a fair fight.

Truck-kun reached out to eat the nearby wall, planning to spit it back out and knock me on my butt or hopefully down the hole he had created earlier. He was planning to knock me out and let the amnesia between Isekai disable me until he could think of a better plan.

But the cave wall he reached out to consume suddenly disappeared. Instead, we were in the sky, falling toward a pixelated game landscape far below. I had moved us into the next Isekai world instantly. After all, this was my mind and I had learned how to control it.

“Dammit,” Truck-kun said, suddenly back in his human form, “not another Isekai!”