Otherworld Truck Stop

Diesel drove donuts around the parking garage, practicing his approach on cardboard cutouts of targets. There were times when no assignments were handed to him, so he wasted the day away doing mindless things.

Already, he had surfed the internet to catch up on his weekly manga and done his dailies for his mobile games. It was rather strange that he even had access to such pleasures, particularly since he had no limbs to play them. But then, he recalled how he live chatted on a blog through telepathy.

He was tempted to stream a movie as well, but then, the karma meter on his dashboard started draining quickly. Apparently, karma worked in place of data usage, so that was a bummer. His other hobbies required a lot less bandwidth, so he hardly noticed before. In any case, Diesel soon understood that nearly everything magical required some karma. He had to be careful since no notifications could be set as reminders.

Even teleporting to different worlds required some usage, but Kami-sama footed the bill whenever it was request related. Sightseeing was somehow more satisfying when it was on someone else’s tab. Not to mention, it was a bit depressing to travel around alone without any kind of agenda.

He would rather save up the karma to get closer to his goal of becoming human again. While living as a truck wasn’t as bad as he first thought, there were many things he missed.

Delicious food was one. Even if he visited new locations, being unable to sample the local cuisine was a real disappointment. Seeing all the food billboards and flyers that he passed by only filled him with emptiness. Strangely, he could pick up aromas despite not having a nose. That was another form of torture, as it set off the other senses that recalled what it was like before.

As one would expect, gasoline was mainly what Diesel consumed, not something a human would think to taste. Strangely, it wasn’t that repulsive. He could even decipher between the different grades of octane. After a while, ones with ethanol even tasted a bit watered down.

“Hey, Bossman. Got any more service assignments?” Diesel radioed like a bored child, wanting an excuse to go outside.

Another thing that drove Diesel mad was the lack of conversation. Far from being a hikikomori, he didn’t mind chatting with people, but hardly anyone besides Kami-sama could hear him. While it was unnatural for a truck to speak in the first place, he wondered why a rider didn’t accompany him.

A girl trucker would have been nice… not that I have a fetish for being sit on, mind you! I’d even settle for an androgynous gunslinger to protect me from danger, but life as a ‘motorrad’ doesn’t exactly go with the trucking.

Kami-sama finally responded, pulling Diesel from the lulls of boredom.

“A bit of a dry spell currently. It seems like people on Earth are getting sick of isekai lately, or so they claim.”

“Sick of isekai? Nawwwww. That’ll be the day. We’ll all be graduating from peak fiction to embrace the dry elitism of literature,” Diesel made a gagging noise at that.

“Speaking of graduating, I completely forgot to end your trial period.”

“Wait, everything I’ve done has been a trial so far? What would’ve happened if I failed?” Diesel’s tires made a squeak that sounded conspicuously like nerves.

“Imagine the vast, open countryside of the U.S. of A, where you’d spend the rest of your days with some obese, overworked driver, until he falls asleep at the wheel and sends both of you crashing off a bridge.”

“I don’t like horror stories… especially oddly specific ones.” A chill came over Diesel’s frame, wondering if Kami-sama was looking into the future.

“That was a joke.” A chuckle was barely audible from the old man. “Couldn’t resist after your desire to be ridden transmitted.”

“Reading my mind is unfair! But can we just move on and tell me what I get for passing?”

“As you wish.”

A portal opened right by Diesel, Kami-sama casually appearing from it. He walked over and placed a hand on Diesel’s hood, making a few gestures to bless him.

“Congratulations. As of now, you are a full-fledged employee of the Otherworld Isekai Service.”

“Thanks… is that it?”

“Such impatience from you humans. The perks are coming. Don’t you worry.” Kami-sama patted the front grill in assurance. “Follow me.”

The two of them exited the garage, walking forward into the endless white space. Just as Diesel wondered where they were going, Kami-sama lifted a hand and snapped. A pulse of magic sent a wave through the air. Moments later, something phased into existence, like how a location suddenly became unlocked on a map in a JRPG.

The sight of a new hangout strangely brought a renewed rev in Diesel’s engine. He accelerated forward, wondering what it could be.

Trucking people to other worlds had become somewhat of a game to him, which gave him some hope that a new level would mean extra karma gain, like how experience was greater on subsequent maps.

But as the building came into view, the first thing that caught his eye were the fancy gasoline pumps, arranged like tables in a bar. There was even a counter with glasses and drinks on tap.

Diesel slid to a stop, eyeing the new environment until Kami-sama caught up.

“Now that you are a regular employee, it is time to meet your fellow coworkers.”

A look of disappointment came over Diesel, but then, he realized.

“Wait, others?”

“Of course, you didn’t think that you were the only one performing services, now did you?”

“Well, no. I’d always just seen Truck-kuns as some kind of imaginary gag creature that… I’ll shut up now.”

It wouldn’t have been much of a company if Kami-sama didn’t have others under him. That much was obvious. What made him pause was that he had no idea what to expect of others like him – vehicular manslaughter personified.

Diesel had turned into a Truck-kun through a mistake by Kami-sama, so how did others end up in a similar situation?

He shook his front. There was only one way to find out. With a strong puff of smoke in determination, Diesel continued forward. Curiosity would probably be the death of him, but it wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go.

The self-service pumps were empty, all save for one. Diesel rolled right up to another Truck-kun who sat idly by, drinking from the tap. A reserved “Hi?” from Diesel made it turn his way.

“Huh? Oh… hi there. I haven’t seen you around. New Truck-kun?”

A plain, white truck eyed Diesel, its only distinguishing feature being a thick-framed windshield that was also partitioned down the middle. If trucks could wear glasses, that was what Diesel imagined it would be like.

“I’m Diesel. Kami-sama told me that I graduated just now into a full-fledged employee. Whatever that means.”

“Congrats to you. I’m sure you’ll do great. Definitely better than me. I’m Tanaka. I’m just some nobody. You’ll probably forget me at some point, but that’s okay. Everyone does eventually-”

“Whoa, there. Why would I forget you so soon? I just met you. You’re the first Truck-kun I’ve seen besides myself. That leaves a lasting impression, you know.”

Tanaka slid back and sighed.

“Sorry about that. It’s just… I’m uninteresting. Plain. Boring. I’m sure you’ll meet far more interesting Truck-kuns than me. When you do, it’s okay to forget about me.”

Suddenly, Diesel understood what was going on. Truck-kuns could morph, and what they settled upon spoke something about their personality. While Diesel’s normal appearance was hardly remarkable, it was like Tanaka took the extra mile to appear as dull as possible.

“How long have you been here anyways?” Diesel wondered.

“Uhh… I lost count. Twenty years, maybe?”

“T-Twenty years?! Don’t tell me I have to work that long to have a shot at becoming human again?!” Diesel had the sudden urge to truck a certain deity for fudging how long his service would be required.

“Ah! No, no, no. I just kind of like doing it. Once I started, I never felt any reason to stop. Rather than a job, this whole isekai business feels more like a hobby.”

“I see…” Diesel’s proverbial pitchfork was lowered for now. But he had to wonder what went through the mind of someone that enjoyed remaining in such a form for so long. “Err… Tanaka, is it? What exactly do you like about this job?”

Interestingly, Tanaka took a spin around Diesel. He suddenly gave off a different air, like he was giving an examination.

“I’m guessing that what we do hasn’t sunk in quite yet. We exist to send people to other worlds. Sometimes, it’s to correct an injustice. Sometimes, it’s to provide a capable hand to turn the tide of an ailing world. Our job is to restore balance. It’s honestly something that I am personally proud to be a part of.”

“Feels like I’ve been sending nothing but crazies across the boundaries. Are you sure that’s really helping?”

“A crazy person in one place is normal in another. It’s all a matter of perspective. A different environment can foster better growth. We simply give them another shot elsewhere, while preserving the normality that was disturbed.”

“If you say so… Senpai.”

Diesel continued to be skeptical about the whole isekai-ing business. It seemed like unapologetic rearrangement of lives for the sake of some lofty goal. Then again, Diesel hardly cared about any kind of righteousness ordained by some gods. He was in it to be human again. And honestly, he was treating it as a necessary evil for that end goal.

“You’ll get used to it, regardless of your personal reasons for doing it. Eventually, you’ll even get to decide on your own if someone is worth sending. Personally, I get tired of seeing all the edgelords being requested by other worlds. A reasonable, down-to-earth guy that can think beyond cultivating his muscles and the thing in his pants is what I… excuse me, sorry if I’m rambling. It’s just that I specialize in summoned heroes.”

Diesel stared blankly, or rather, he tried to. Not that his metallic frame could display the confusion drawn on his face. He had no idea that Truck-kuns specialized in certain aspects of isekai.

“You’ll figure it out when you meet the rest of us. We have our preferences. And it looks like you got here at the right time for everyone to clock out.”

As if on cue, several portals opened along the outer edge of the truck stop, a Truck-kun exiting from each of them and spreading out to the gasoline stands. A purplish-pink one – with a decal of a tall glass of foaming liquid on its side – skidded right behind the service counter, tapping a bell in the process. It emitted a welcome jingle.

“Just a minute! Hey there, boys. How’s it going? Welcome to Mama Shanty’s Truck Stop!”

“Wait, you serving beer here?” Diesel wondered aloud.

“No, it’s gasoline, hun. Wrong type of alcohol. That’ll stall you in a single compression cycle. My guess is that you’re new. We’ve got nothing but special blends of petrol here. Care to try?”

Diesel had to shield his vision from the positively glowing pride that emitted from her.

“Uhh… sure?”

“That’ll be one karma.”

“Ehh, no one said anything about needing to pay in karma….” Diesel wasn’t trying to be stingy, but he didn’t see the point of spending money on gasoline that was normally free back at the garage.

“Fine, a sample it is! You have no idea what you’re missing until you give it a try!”

A nozzle magically floated down before Diesel. Before he could object, it inserted itself into his tank, and he got a jet of liquid. All of a sudden, Diesel tasted green tea amid the normal flavor of gasoline.

“That’s… rather interesting actually…”

“How’s your first taste of food-accented gasoline? It’s a specialty of mine.” Mama Shanty chuckled at Diesel’s perplexed silence.

“Mama Shanty is great. She came up with this side gig all on her own. It gives back what it feels like to be human again, if only just a little bit,” Tanaka said.

“I’m more than happy to share the love! I just request for the costs to be recouped in some way. And this truck stop is a great place for people to come together and unwind, complain about their requests, and share interesting experiences.”

“I guess I will have another then. One karma really isn’t that much.” Diesel relented.

“Coming right up!”

The taste of green tea filled Diesel with a small happiness as he sat back and listened to Tanaka and Mama Shanty chat about this central hub for the Truck-kuns. It seemed like the owner had been around for nearly as long as Tanaka, another Truck-kun happy with the life that she had carved for herself.

“Come to think of it, do you have a preference in isekai requests, Mama Shanty?” Diesel couldn’t help but ask.

“I suppose that I lean towards intellectual people who solve important mysteries in other worlds. I love discerning whether people are right for handling complex systems that require mental finesse.”

“Mama Shanty has a keen eye for people. She even gets tasked with sending the proper villains to train heroes into their roles. She knows just the right ones to send for them to grow and adapt,” Tanaka added.

Mama Shanty let out a sigh, pausing her distribution of nozzles.

“Lately, it seems like I keep getting requests for arrogant young masters who inevitably become cannon fodder. I blame the growth of cultivation-based worlds. Mindless training to reach the apex of gods are all they care about, not wit and craftiness. It’s frankly a bit tiresome!”

“Psst… it would make her happy if you came by to chat and refill. It keeps such annoyances off her mind,” Tanaka whispered to Diesel, before trying to divert her worries. “Don’t worry, Mama Shanty. I’m sure it is merely a trend. Why don’t you show off your food-grade gasoline collection to our newcomer?”

Mama Shanty slid back over to the counter, where she activated a display that cycled through the different flavor injections that could be added. Diesel’s eyes went wide as various cuisines all over the world flashed before him, not just drinks. It was crazier than any kind of C*ca-C*la Freestyle he had ever happened upon.

Diesel virtually drooled over the options, having missed human food. Despite his blank, mechanical expression, Mama Shanty understood him perfectly.

“All of us are in the same boat. Truck-kuns with memories of being a human. Of course, there are pleasures that can’t be recreated. Kami-sama knew that and encouraged me to create this place. It brings a small sense of comfort for everyone.”

To have such a place exist, Diesel wondered just how long Kami-sama’s employee roster was. He looked around, now seeing tens of different Truck-kuns stopping by and getting a quick fill before exiting through another portal. It was quite the busy place.

“Some of us ended up like this due to bad karma in our past lives. The reincarnation system is funny like that at times. Though, there are some that choose to be this way. Thought it would be cool. I happened to be one of them.” Tanaka laughed.

Perhaps, the chatting had attracted others’ attention, but a few more engines rumbled over to them. Tanaka turned around to greet them one by one.

Jester introduced himself with a creepy laugh, which complemented the bright décor that was plastered on him like he had stampeded through a circus and devoured its clowns. Apparently, his favorite services involved ones at night, when his paint job gave off an eerie glow to heighten the terror that he enjoyed inflicting.

While possessing an approachable enough personality – as nice as a clown-faced disaster could be – that all changed when he got serious and invoked his inner persona as a horror game designer in his previous life.

“Remind me to never take any jobs at night. The last thing that I want to do is run into the Bogeyman,” Diesel joked.

“Oh? So you have heard of me. I feel flattered,” Jester responded jovially. “And don’t worry, I only like to scare the living daylights out of certain people that deserve it. Those that realize that they have only their own paranoia to blame. Makes it easy when all I have to do is sit in a theater silently to unsettle the target.”

Diesel was ever so glad to be a Truck-kun at that moment.

Vera sported a necktie on her front grill, her sleek form giving off a neat and professional look, not unlike a stoic hitman. She gave off the vibe of a seasoned veteran at her craft, and according to Tanaka, boasted one of the widest portfolios when it came to services.

“Vera’s the type that will take care of pretty much anyone… but there’s a certain type of request that really lubes her pistons,” Tanaka whispered.

“What’s that?” Diesel wondered.

Tanaka simply laughed. “You may not get why, but her favorite thing is shipping people. Romance brought together between different worlds. A collision of two different cultures finding common ground.”

“That sounds like a pretty motivating cause. I don’t see anything wrong with it.”

“Particularly those of the same gender.”

Diesel froze. His engine choked for a moment on the gasoline. And then he thought once again.

Actually, that’s not really that weird when it comes down to it…

Rather than dwell on personal preferences, another truck caught Diesel’s attention. It drudged slowly along, hanging behind Jester and Vera, as if half asleep still. Not even a drink hoped to lift that Truck-kun’s spirits up.

“Ah, that’s Shade. It’ll take a while for her to grow comfy around you. She’s had a bad history with people. Motivation is the biggest crutch when it comes to fulfilling her requests. As you can see, she’s essentially a sloth unless a target manages to invoke her crosshairs.”

“What are the conditions for that?” Diesel had a feeling that he didn’t want to know but asked anyway.

“Visceral anger. Invoking her ire, whether it be crossing her directly or setting off her trauma. And when that happens… oh boy… you can bet that the target will be a bloody smear in the end.”

“Oh, so like a yande-” Diesel suddenly felt something sharp stab into his rear end.

“Let me get that for you.” With telekinesis, Tanaka yanked a surgical knife from Diesel’s trunk. “Careful with the phrases. Shade doesn’t like them. And as her name implies, she’ll take you out in the shadows before you even notice her.”

“Does everyone have a screw loose here or something?!”

“Haha, don’t worry. We’re all good trucks normally. They are quite nice once you get to know them better.” Tanaka gave Diesel a gentle nudge for good measure.

Hopefully, that was the case. Diesel wasn’t sure what he would do if he was the only normal one around. He could only sigh and return a grill bump in hopes that he would just get over it eventually.

The circle of Truck-kuns grew tighter as Jester, Vera, and Shade grabbed a nozzle for themselves. Jester liked his hard like whiskey. Vera chose a fruity option, while Shade simply picked a random one before passing out mid-fueling.

“So, what’s new out there, Jester, Vera? Got any interesting pieces to tell?” Mama Shanty said after passing out the rounds.

“Request-wise, not really… but there seems to be some strange competition stirring about.” A puff of colored exhaust came from Vera’s grill, making her tie flutter for a moment.

“Strange competition? What could even compete with something like us?” Diesel wondered aloud. In his mind, there was no other way to be isekaied as meme-worthy as a truck.

“Get this… I saw someone get whisked away the other day, a goose dragging the man’s soul away.”

“Geese?! How does that even work?”

Far from intimidating, the prospect of a goose isekai-ing someone felt rather comical. Diesel couldn’t imagine those fluffy fowls doing much more than being a nuisance.

“I heard through the grapevine that a certain deity played some video game and thought it would be a hoot,” Jester added. “Not like it really matters how someone gets the axe, so maybe it’s chasing a passing fad. Certainly, teasing a target with crafty tricks livens up the request.”

Diesel tooted his horn, growing increasingly lost. A big question had formed in his mind, one that he thought to avoid just because, but the itch had become too much not to scratch.

“You know what, I never understood what the deal was with trucking someone to another world. Like, how does that even work?”

“Oh, did Kami-sama never explain?” Mama Shanty asked with amusement. “Any death by supernatural cause – whether it be by trucks, lightning, and even geese – results in a free spirit whisked out of the natural order. Souls caught in it don’t end up in purgatory to be judged but fly off to the closest aligned world in orbit. Kami-sama brings the worlds together beforehand, but mistakes do happen, of course. An unlikely hero or villain gets the short end of the stick in those cases.”

Diesel took on this new information with a grain of salt. It seemed like Kami-sama had purposefully left out some details in his explanation. It was quite the marketing pitch to get Diesel on board that he received.

“Well, not any of our business for the moment. We just do our assigned jobs. The deities can duke it out with each other on their methods.” Jester shifted from side to side, in what looked like shrugging off the situation. “All right, I’m being called. Good luck to ya. Happy isekai-ing, kiddos.”

The logistics of what happened beyond the requests were out of sight, out of mind to Diesel. He wasn’t even sure it was worth the effort to understand. Perhaps one day, he would be filled with his own motivation and perspectives like the others.

Maybe, becoming a full-fledged employee would give him more of a choice as to what to do. After all, Tanaka did mention that he would have to decide for himself at some point.

Diesel could follow orders. He could pull himself to carry them through for some sweet karma. But deciding things for himself? That seemed a bit daunting of a task.

He eyed the others – once human themselves but now veterans of the same crossroads Diesel had yet to pass. It wouldn’t hurt for him to shadow their requests, if only to gain more perspective.

Surely, he wouldn’t come to appreciate the job as much as they did, but only time would tell.