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I Am A Truck Driver 11 A Hero's Story 1

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His was a common story. He was 17 years old. He had black hair with long bangs that almost covered his black eyes. He always sat in the far back corner next to the windows. He lacked presence, and all his cla.s.smates only knew him as a loner. He had no friends.

At home, he was always alone as well. His father had left when he was still young. His mother was often out drinking, so he rarely saw her. He worked part time to save up for college and move out.

It happened suddenly. It was early in the morning as he walked to school. He crossed the street along with a lady who was listening to music. He heard the sound of a truck driving towards him. It came out of nowhere, and it didn't slow despite the light being red. Acting on instinct, he pushed the lady out of the way. The truck hit him squarely. He died.

It was then that he met a G.o.d.

The G.o.d told him that he died before his time. To apologize, the G.o.d gave him powers and brought him to be reborn in another world. In that world, he became one known to all as the "Hero."

That was the basic story.

It wasn't the whole story.

The whole story involved another person and another G.o.d.

...

- Are you interested?

The G.o.d, [It], asked a boy, or perhaps a young man. His eyes were unfocused as he slowly nodded.

A photograph appeared in front of him.

- This is your first target. You have a month.

It was a photograph of a plain high school student with long black hair that almost covered his eyes.

The young man looked at the photograph blankly.

- Just follow my instructions.

He nodded.

...

He followed the first target for a day. Then two. Then a week pa.s.sed, and another. He watched and marveled at how normal of a life One had.

The most mundane things were what interested him most. The way that One would trim his hair every week so that his bangs never quite reached his eyes. The way that One unconsciously smiled when he pulled out his sketchbook and drew things that had caught his eye that day. The way that One set the table for two every night although he always ate alone. These small things that no one else noticed, were...

"Beautiful..." he whispered. The first words he had said since coming to Earth.

- Do you wish to know his name?

The G.o.d asked the young man.

He nodded.
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The G.o.d told him.

The young man closed his eyes, and he felt something stir inside of him for the first time in years.

...

"He's not happy." The young man had begun to speak more often, much to the G.o.d's secret delight.

- Is that so?

"He's lonely. Very lonely."

He seemed troubled.

"Will he stop being lonely if he goes another world?"

- He would be their hero, so I doubt he would ve lonely.

"What should I do?"

The G.o.d prepared a truck. To murder with a weapon would attract too much attention, and it was too personal. A vehicle would be a screen of sorts to hide the true weight of the deed. A car increased the risk of the target being injured but not dead. Therefore, a truck would serve its purpose.

"I don't know how to drive."

- Ah. That might be a problem.

...

The young man from another world was a terrible driver, at least when it came to trucks. He crashed them into something almost every time he turned the wheel. He even flipped the truck over a few times.

- This might not work in time.

The G.o.d stated after another disastrous practice session. He cast a healing spell on the young man.

The young man didn't seem to notice the G.o.d's concern.

"How much longer?"

- 3 days.

"I will do it." He clenched his fist, and a small spark could be seen deep in his gaze.

...

It was not easy to drive a truck. It certainly wasn't possible for an underage boy from another world to learn the skill with a couple of weeks of practice.

"Perhaps I should use a sword."

The G.o.d vehemently opposed this proposal.

"If only I could use a weapon instead..."

The young man who had Weapons Mastery as a skill lamented.

The G.o.d had an idea. [It] was scared to say it, but [It] had no better option.

- What if you treat the truck as a weapon?

The young man reexamined the vehicle. 8 tons of steel hitting a person at high speeds. It was truly a deadly weapon.

He got into the driver's seat.

The truck was the weapon he chose to wield.

His hands and feet moved fluidly as his skill guided him.

He wove his way around obstacles, searching only for his final target. He aimed his weapon carefully, then drove it straight at One.

The moment before impact, he felt it. Sheer terror. His eyes shook, and he hurriedly pressed on the brake, but it was too late.

The young man, who had used Empathy on the one he killed, experienced death as he lived.

The young man was me.

...

"It was so long ago, wasn't it?" I asked [It] after I finished sending my prayers to One.

- Yes it was. Almost four years now.

"I can't believe you convinced a 15 year old drive a truck to murder someone. I can't believe I agreed and have been agreeing for almost four years."

Although, even if my body was only 15 at the time, I had lived almost 40 years at that point.

- You have changed a lot since then.

"I know. At that time... I wasn't truly alive."

My mind had been broken. How terrible that it took me murdering someone to begin to fix it. Perhaps there might have been another way. But there's no use in dwelling on those possibilities.

- And now?

"Now I'm still not fully alive. I might never be."

- You are better though.

I wondered what [It] was thinking.

"Perhaps."

I recalled One's last moments again. I felt his heart racing and adrenaline pumping as he realized his impending death. He pushed away a young lady to prevent her from getting hit as well. And then, I felt the tiniest hint of relief as he looked at the young lady he saved. I could not read his mind, but I am almost certain if this. His last thought before it all ended was "at least someone will have noticed that I died."

Except that it didn't end. I had fallen unconscious due to the shock, and [It] used some spells to convince the police that the accident was caused by a truck driver who had a heart attack.

I still remember the dream I had, as if I had become One. I met a G.o.d, not [It], but a different one. He expressed his sorrow that One's life had ended so unnaturally early. He offered One a chance to be reborn as a hero in another world. One accepted.

He probably didn't know that the G.o.d was the ones to request me and [It] to kill him.

Time flowed differently in the other world. To be specific, it flowed a lot faster. One grew up with a new family, two loving parents and a younger brother. He was no longer lonely. He must have given up his old name and accepted his new one because one day, Empathy no longer worked on him.

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