The Streets of Tokyo – 2:47 AM
Renji Arata hated his life.
It wasn’t just the long hours at his dead-end job, the miserable pay, or the way his boss treated him like a disposable cog in a machine. No, those were just symptoms of the disease. The real problem? Fate itself had a grudge against him.
He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, letting out a tired sigh as he walked down an empty street. The neon glow of vending machines and convenience stores flickered against the pavement, the only signs of life in the otherwise deserted area.
“Just a few more months,” he muttered. “Save up, quit, and leave this pce forever.”
Then, he heard it.
A deep, mechanical growl.
His body tensed. A shiver crawled up his spine. He knew that sound. He had heard it before—many, many times.
Somewhere behind him, an engine roared to life.
Renji’s heart pounded as he slowly turned his head.
Headlights.
A massive truck came tearing down the street, its hulking form cutting through the darkness like a reaper’s scythe. It was moving way too fast, way too directly—straight at him.
His breath caught in his throat.
"Not again—"
BEEP! BEEP!
BAM!
---
Renji gasped as he shot upright, his body drenched in cold sweat. He was no longer on the cold pavement of Tokyo.
He y on soft grass. A gentle breeze carried the scent of wildflowers. Above him stretched a brilliant blue sky, unmarred by clouds. Birds chirped in the distance.
Renji exhaled sharply.
“…Shit.”
Then, as if to confirm his worst fear, a voice echoed from nowhere:
> “Welcome, brave soul, to the world of Aetherion!”
He clenched his jaw. "Don't say it—"
> “You have been chosen as a hero to—”
Renji buried his face in his hands. "Son of a—"
---
A tidal wave of memories crashed into his mind. This wasn’t the first time. Not even close.
1st Life: A heroic knight who slew the Demon King. (Cssic.)
12th Life: A merchant who revolutionized an economy. (Died rich but still died.)
33rd Life: A vilin who was executed by the protagonist. (Ouch.)
50th Life: A slime. (Worst experience ever.)
99th Life: A peaceful farmer. (Finally found happiness… then got run over again.)
It always ended the same way. No matter how he lived, Truck-kun always found him.
Somehow. Someway. It never let him escape.
Renji clenched his fists.
“This isn’t just bad luck,” he muttered. “This is a damn curse.”
And the source of it was clear.
"Truck-kun."
---
Renji exhaled and sat up.
Normally, this would be the part where he was “summoned” to some kingdom. He’d be expected to py the role of a hero, sy a demon lord, or uncover some ancient prophecy.
Not this time.
"I'm done pying along," he muttered.
Instead of heading toward the distant castle town, he turned away from it. He wasn’t going to follow the script. He wasn’t going to be another pawn in some goddess’s grand pn.
This time, he was going to hunt down the bastard responsible.
"No more reincarnations."
"No more forced isekai."
"No more getting hit by goddamn trucks."
---
Renji had barely taken a dozen steps when he heard it.
A deep, rumbling sound.
The birds stopped chirping. The wind stilled. The earth beneath his feet trembled.
Renji slowly turned.
Down the dirt path, kicking up a cloud of dust, was a horse-drawn carriage. But something was wrong. The horses were missing. It moved on its own. Its front glowed with two yellow orbs—headlights.
Renji’s blood ran cold.
"No. No way…"
The carriage sped up. Faster. Faster.
A guttural honk echoed from within.
Honk. Honk.
Renji’s eyes widened. His breathing quickened. This was impossible. This was insane.
"It followed me here…?"
The carriage barreled toward him, shaking violently as if some unseen force was trying to contain something monstrous inside. The ground cracked beneath its wheels. Shadows pulsed around it.
This wasn’t a normal reincarnation.
Truck-kun had evolved.
But instead of running, instead of resigning himself to fate—
Renji smirked.
"So you finally show yourself, huh?"
"Fine. Let’s settle this."
To be continued…
