Return of the Hero

Diesel slowly rolled through the streets of Shanghai, carefully dodging the swarms of foot traffic crossing the streets. Even in his compact form, there was hardly any room to move more than at a snail’s pace. Fortunately, he was in no hurry, letting them pass idly by him like a school of fish.

It was quite fortunate that his service assignments had no sense of urgency most of the time. Much like government work, requests pitched through the divine realm were fulfilled at a lax pace. That gave him plenty of time to take in the sights.

Diesel was what one would call an introvert, to put it nicely. He knew he had to touch more grass, but he found himself full of excuses not to. It was funny how he enjoyed it so much now, despite only being able to roll over it. The perks to this travel-heavy job gave him a new appreciation for his environment. There was only so much that could be experienced through a screen.

A few horns honked behind him. Apparently, others weren’t quite so carefree in their day-to-day lives. It made him nervous, so he honked at the people in front of him to make way. When they didn’t, Diesel puffed out a bit of smoke in annoyance before rolling forward more aggressively.

To his surprise, that was the secret. The pedestrians adjusted to his pace and slipped around him. As if his actions parted the river of people, Diesel remained steady as he finally pulled out of the busy district and toward a park called the People’s Square. His next target was often seen there.

The humdrum of people and cars blanketed the area, but there was one voice that suddenly pierced through the air a few blocks ahead.

“Hear my story! How I, the great Lord Maximus, came to be! A legend grand enough to be passed on for generations! My adventures in a strange world that I called home for nearly a decade! They parallel the myths of olden time!”

A man in gaudy robes stood upon a stack of milk crates, arms out, reaching for attention. A few passersby turned briefly before continuing on their way.

“Where I come from is a grand society… It has changed how I am today! The truth is that we are blind to the machinations of reality! So listen to my story… the life of your enlightened one, Maximus. Surely, you will realize that there is no need to be satisfied with the compromises of the common man.”

By now, there were a few hecklers that had formed near him.

“Tell me, Enlightened One. Are the end days approaching?”

“Nice robes. Did you find them at a discount Sari outlet store? Will you be peddling spices next?”

“Here, have a coin. Let’s give him a round for the theatrics, yeah?”

Diesel could feel a sense of cringe as he eyed the man named Maximus from afar. It took a certain confidence to spout off such a speech, but Diesel’s chuunibyou syndrome had dissipated over a decade ago. He wouldn’t have been caught dead in a similar position now. Thankfully, any sense of second-hand embarrassment was dulled for him. It wasn’t like a truck could display emotions anyways, so he settled on mumbling insults under his breath.

“Fellow spiritualists, who walk on this earth beside me. I have wisdom that has touched none of you. For I have seen that we truly know nothing! Remember one thing – humans are strong! They have the power to change. To become better or worse. To dream and feel things that aren’t apparent in this world. Let not the restrictions of this world control you! Join me and overcome the fate that the heavens dictated for you!”

People continued to stop briefly and leave, some giving him a fake prayer at his gospel. The odd concepts of the preaching man were enough to amuse but not sway. Diesel himself was getting tired of listening to the drivel.

In a desperate attempt, Maximus reached out to obstruct a random passerby, only to be given a sharp look of annoyance. That didn’t deter him in the slightest. He merely yelled at that person’s back.

“Does it hurt to listen to my words? I only speak truths! This knowledge will shatter our perceptions and save the world!”

Maximus turned back to his pseudo-crowd, standing back on his milk crate throne.

“We are but mere sheep in the grand scheme of things! Let us ascend to greater purposes!”

Diesel finally couldn’t take it anymore and felt like joining in the heckling.

“I dunno about you, but I’d rather stay as a truck than be whatever you claim to be!” he joked, believing that he wouldn’t be heard anyways.

Unexpectedly, Maximus froze in the middle of his speech, and then, his gaze darted right at Diesel. The way he pointed right at him denied any chance that it was coincidence.

“You! You have been blessed by the Gods! Oh, distinguished one before me!”

In a panic, Diesel immediately sped off past him, making a quick escape. He trembled in wonder as to how he was found out. The last thing he needed was a crazy man eyeing him.

“Wait! Oh, blessed being! Come back!”

Snickers blanketed the area as the bystanders watched Maximus jump down from his milk crates and give chase. In their eyes, a lunatic was running into traffic for who knew what reason.

After a safe distance, Diesel radioed Kami-sama to pass on his cover being blown to the target.

“What the hell just happened? You have an answer for this, don’t you?”

Over the sound of papers rustling, Kami-sama replied. “Did you not read the file? It called for extra caution for this one.”

“The file is like a hundred pages. The least you could have done is highlight the important parts for me!”

“To answer your question, your target this time has already been isekaied and returned once. Such beings that have experienced another world are more attuned to the supernatural.”

“Wait, you mean that rant he was spouting was actually true?!”

Diesel hadn’t thought much about it. It seemed like the typical crazy talk of someone that had too much time on his hands. After skimming the first few pages of the file on Maximus, he stopped when the request mentioned a disturbance in the local peace.

Now, the speech made more sense to him, as well as the garments. Why couldn’t someone be isekaied more than once? There was no clause that said that those sent over had to remain there indefinitely. Still, Diesel wondered what kind of experiences would create such an oddity.

“Maximus is what you would refer to as a xianxia protagonist who spent countless years cultivating. Years and years of mindless training has warped the signals in his brain. But since those abilities don’t exist in his original world, he lost them upon returning. He is now a mere shell of a hero he once was, bringing back only his mental baggage, full of holes of what doesn’t exist anymore.”

“Eh? Why did he lose his powers? Did he become a villain or something?”

“No, quite the opposite. He conquered the world. He reformed society and decimated every spoiled antagonist that appeared to defy him. He even possessed a harem. A fairly standard result, it seems.”

“What went wrong?” Diesel was almost afraid to ask.

“Maximus simply grew bored. He chose to leave that world and return, claiming that it was his duty to enlighten his original world as well. There were no longer any challenges left in his reach.”

“I see how swimmingly that plan has turned out. I’m not sure I want a crazy guy to lead the modern world.”

Kami-sama chuckled at that statement. “Balance must be preserved between the worlds. It would be rather unfair to allow such power to go unchecked in another world. If the concept of it doesn’t exist, there is a safety measure to keep one from possessing a monopoly on it. Not to mention, there is a lack of spiritual and magical networks to support such a system. Where do you think power comes from?”

Diesel was glad that his magical truck abilities came from the divine realm, which seemed to be unaffected. If he ever reincarnated back to a human again, he would be sad to see some of them go. But then again, he’d probably be too tempted to cause mischief with them. If only he could spend some karma for certain things, like perfect language ability, he could watch all the anime and read all the light novels without having to wait for translation.

But now that Diesel knew the background information, he couldn’t help but wonder.

“Who requested for him to be isekaied again?”

Kami-sama chuckled as he scratched his chin. “Who didn’t?”

“Eh?”

“In this case, it was a lingering sentiment by the whole community. They were simply fed up with his absurd statements that sounded so bizarre and wanted him gone.”

“That’s kind of cynical, isn’t it? Like someone getting booted from a forum for sticking out like a sore thumb.”

“When the world decides that enough is enough, we simply become the delivery service that carries the order.”

“You make it sound like it’s above your pay grade.”

“I’m just a mod, like those forum things you referred to, Diesel-kun. Even deities have their limits.”

Diesel wondered if he really needed to trouble himself with all the details, being the low-level grunt he was. Another job meant another step closer to filling his karma – that was his priority.

“Fine, let’s get down to business.” Diesel eyed the meter that had been firmly at Truck! since he first stepped foot into People’s Square.

Later that evening, Maximus had wrapped up his speeches for the day. With no special abilities and mystical powers to overturn society, words were all that he could rely on. The teachings of various gurus during his journeys still resided fondly in his mind.

But it was difficult. Hardly anyone gave him more than a moment’s glance. Doubts about returning to such a dull, uneducated world plagued him.

Just then, he spotted a familiar vehicle that had visited him earlier. The crowds had thinned out, leaving a clear opening between them. His heart instantly leapt for joy. Maximus wondered what sort of wisdom it would bring as a fellow traveler of the worlds.

The only response was the revving of an engine, like the anticipation of a race’s start.

Or the anticipation of a new trip.

A look of realization dawned on Maximus’ face. He nodded with acknowledgement, understanding what that simple gesture meant. He got back up on his milk crate throne and beckoned for the truck to come forward.

A mysterious wind blew, diverting the lingering foot traffic from the pathway between them. They all lined up, gazes vacant, like witnesses heralding the approach of a hero to his king.

The truck picked up speed, riding down the ordained path as Maximus stared on with resolve. He would bow out of this world a second time, if that was the people’s wish. But in no way did he see himself as the victim.

Far from that, he was granted another chance. Another world to ascend from the beginning, another chance to fight at the gods’ request – he would no longer impose his ideals onto an unsuitable world. A place of mystical heroes and magical beings was where he was meant to be.

He would no longer complain about a life that was his to live. Everyone else was living within their own means, not how others said that it should be.

Realizing his own folly, he let out a final battle cry to the heavens, hailing his return.

The return of a hero.

The truck crashed into him, sending his body into the air and his spirit into a new unknown. The smile never left his face.