BLINK—
Trevor's world turned white.
Not bright like sunlight or a camera flash—this was deeper, purer. Like his eyes had opened inside a lightning bolt. He winced, shielding his face.
"Ugh... the hell? Is this a dream? Did I die?"
"AHAHAHA! Finally!" boomed a thunderous voice that echoed in every direction—above, below, inside his skull.
"After all these years... I found him! The real Truck-kun!"
The voice was strangely cheerful. Warm. Like the world's jolliest trucker had just won the celestial lottery.
As Trevor's eyes adjusted, the white void melted into form—clouds paved into roads, glittering highways looping through the sky, and shipping containers floating by like lazy blimps. A golden pit stop sign read: "Heavenly Logistics Center – Level 7 Access Only."
In the middle of it all, a man reclined on a massive chair shaped like a truck cab. He wore a faded cap, aviator shades, and a robe that looked half divine mantle, half mechanic's overalls. Steam rose from a silver coffee mug that read:
G.O.R.D. – God of Reincarnation & Delivery.
Trevor stared. "This has to be a dream. Right? Did I fall asleep while watching anime again?"
"Nope," the god said, casually flipping a clipboard. "This is very real. And you're very awake."
"Trevor, age 25. Delivery guy by day, otaku by night. 10,000 successful package drop-offs. Never missed a route. Never late. Never once lost cargo.
That's the divine quota, kid. You qualified."
Trevor blinked slowly. "Qualified for... what? A discount on ramen? Because I'd actually love that."
The god leaned forward, eyes gleaming with mischief. "You've just been promoted, my friend. Congratulations. You're now officially Truck-kun."
Trevor coughed. "Come again?"
"Truck-kun," the god repeated. "The celestial avatar of reincarnation via vehicular impact. The chosen medium through which countless souls have entered new worlds and changed destinies forever."
Trevor's jaw dropped. "You're joking. This is a bit, right? Like some kind of weird afterlife prank?"
The god laughed. "Son, do I look like I have time for pranks? I'm the divine delivery dispatcher of the multiverse. And Truck-kun—you—have altered more destinies than any anime protagonist ever imagined."
Trevor rubbed his temples. "But... I just drive a truck. I deliver paper towels and plastic cutlery. I live alone. I eat cup noodles. My life's more depressing than a side character's backstory."
"Exactly," the god said, standing tall.
"You were the perfect candidate. You know monotony. You understand routine. But deep down, you also believe in second chances.
You've watched the isekai. You've fantasized about those worlds. You laughed when they got hit, and you whispered, 'Lucky bastards.'"
Trevor coughed, embarrassed. "Okay... maybe once or twice."
"The system chose you for a reason," the god said.
"I can't descend into your world. Divine laws prevent it.
But I can grant you my mantle. You'll receive the System—a celestial interface that will let you process souls, visualize the right 'death scenario,' and assign them to worlds fitting their karmic desires."
"And yes," he added, sipping his coffee, "I'll update the charts, monitor balance, and casually check in. But mostly? You're in charge now."
Suddenly, golden light poured into Trevor's chest.
[SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
Welcome, Host. You are now the divine emissary of impact-based reincarnation.
A HUD flickered before his eyes. Strange glyphs danced, turning into tabs: [Candidate Queue],
[World Database],
[Reincarnation Energy],
[Account Balance],
[Accident Designer].
Trevor gulped. "I... I don't know what to say."
"Say yes," the god said, grinning. "And try not to suck."
A blinding flash surged again—and the god's form blurred out like static on an old TV set.
Trevor gasped, jolted back into his seat. The truck hummed quietly. Headlights lit up the road. The figure lay still in front of the hood.
No people. No sirens. No honking. Just him, his truck… and a collapsed body.
"Shit." He jumped out of the cab, boots scraping the pavement. "Are you okay?! Did I—did I actually hit you?!"
He knelt down, reaching for the stranger—and the moment his fingers brushed skin—
ZzzzZAP.
The world around him shattered like glass, pulling him into another dimension entirely.
The Throne of Judgement
Trevor opened his eyes, finding himself seated on a throne. Not a metaphorical one.
An actual dark golden throne, set atop a floating dais that looked carved from celestial ore.
He was dressed in regal robes. Power pulsed under his skin, strange and thrilling. Before him hovered the soul of the man he'd struck—only now standing, upright, and no longer broken.
The man blinked. "Where am I?"
Trevor stared, still adjusting. "Honestly, I was about to ask the same thing."
The System's voice chimed in.
[SOUL IDENTIFIED: VOLUNTARY TRANSITION]
Host may now begin the evaluation process.
Trevor looked at the man more closely—early twenties, thin, eyes heavy with sadness.
"Why did you jump in front of my truck?" he asked.
The man hesitated. "I… I couldn't take it anymore. I was bullied. Forgotten. Lost. Even my family gave up on me. I thought if I died... maybe I'd just disappear."
Trevor's throat tightened.
He wasn't just a delivery guy anymore. He was holding someone's life—or rebirth—in his hands.
"If I could reincarnate you," he asked softly, "what kind of world would you want to live in?"
The man's eyes widened. "Really? I can choose?"
Trevor nodded. "Yeah. I'm kind of...forget it choose."
Tears pooled at the man's eyes.
"I'd like a world where I can just be peaceful. Live as a farmer. I love growing things... I want to wake up with the sun and tend crops. I don't need magic or fame. Just peace."
"Are you sure?" Trevor asked.
"More than anything."
The System pulsed again.
[MATCH FOUND: World - "Idle Farm Life System: Rebirth Edition"]
Compatibility: 97%. Reincarnation Type: Peaceful System Carrier.
Assigning passive growth stats and environment boost.
Trevor raised his hand. A gentle wave. Light surrounded the soul, lifting him into the air.
The man smiled. Genuinely. For the first time in a long while.
"Thank you."
And then—he vanished.
[SOUL TRANSFER COMPLETE]
Trevor leaned back in the throne, eyes wide. "That actually worked."
His gaze lowered to the seat beneath him. Warm, sturdy. Regal. He kind of liked it.
[TASK COMPLETE. HOST WILL BE RETURNED TO NORMAL SPACE.]
"No, wait! Can I stay just a little lo—"
Back in the Cab
Trevor blinked.
He was back.
The engine hummed.
The road was empty.
There was no body.
Just the lingering feeling that something incredible had just happened.
Then—his phone vibrated.
DING!
[TRANSACTION ALERT: $1,200 received – Soul Transfer Compensation]
Trevor stared at the screen. "I get... paid for this?"
The System responded in its usual deadpan tone.
"Host receives earnings based on karmic weight, destination compatibility, and spiritual progression. Please continue improving your soul dispatch metrics."
Trevor laughed softly. "Holy crap. I just became a cosmic Uber driver."
Elsewhere – Void Sector Z
In a space where light curled in fear and time forgot its name, a table of cloaked figures stood around a flickering screen.
On it, the Truck System's code ran in golden threads.
"The system has rebooted," one voice hissed.
"The fool gave it to another host."
"Then we begin. We fracture the code.
Hijack the interface.
The Truck shall run no more."
A shadowed figure stepped forward, eyes burning like collapsing stars.
"We end the cycle. We crash the engine of fate."
Behind them, a black truck rumbled quietly in the darkness.
[TO BE CONTINUED…]