“Regardless of… certain events of the recent past, allow me to offer you my most sincere congratulations on behalf of my government.” Koi uttered the words completely devoid of any emotions. He has none left. Not after that day, or rather, not after the consequences of that day. All he ever wanted was to be accepted as a useful member of society. All he got for his efforts was a functional and permanent exile to this shithole of a world.
A world already abandoned by his country. Legally, militarily, officially, whatever. Yet even in retreat, his country is still not done with this world. Not yet. Not that it matters. The cause will go on. It has to, there’s nothing else to live for. Not in this godforsaken world.
As for his own country, realpolitik carries through as usual, and in the spirit of the late Nobel Peace Prize recipient Henry Kissinger yesterday’s enemies could easily become tomorrow’s allies.
“As all things should be, by the gods decree.” Dygel, the self appointed regent of the Reborn Kingdom of Gulaelt, said smugly as he rubs his grubby hands in gleeful anticipation. Nevermind the small fact that he had murdered any and all legitimate claimants to the throne in cold blood shortly after the restoration of the kingdom.
And why not, for the defeat of the demon horde and the withdrawal of the American forces has left a political vacuum to be filled, and who else is to fill that gap but him?
Well, there’s that one loose end, but getting that handled was trivially easy. In fact it’s getting handled as they speak.
“Although I must ask, out of professional curiosity obviously, how did you get them- like that so easily?” Koi asked, waving a hand at the jeering mobs below, who were baying for the death of a man- no, more like a boy, who had only weeks ago been the savior of the world, who had supposedly beaten back both the demonic horde and the American troops. Who has now suddenly been branded a traitor and an affront to the people, the lands, and the gods.
“Oh, that?” Dygel chuckled as he pointed a finger at the spectacle in the streets. “It is all foretold in the tales as old as time itself.”
“Oh cut the claptrap out, don’t take me for one of those rabble down there.” Koi waved a hand dismissively while handing to Dygel a small bottle of pills with the other hand. Hatred of the Americans or not, the fat bastard is pushing his 60s, and all the wondrous favors of the gods are still not as convenient as things cooked up in a corporate lab somewhere in the US. Those pills are also one of the reasons for his continued safe existence, in contrast to the poor schmuck down there.
“Every hero that didn’t die a sensible death in his fight against the maou inevitably becomes corrupted by his ego.” Dygel said, uttering the bold face lie with more confidence than any truth.
“Ah yes, of course. How silly of me to forget that.” Koi said, nodding along to the lie, even already knowing the condemned man’s previous life back on earth, some 30 something year old Japanese salaryman named Airin Sato, who’s most notable traits before being yeeted by truck kun 84 days ago was his utter devotion to the black company he worked at and social obligation of a dying era. Hardly the type of person who would suddenly try to overthrow the order he had been up to that point dutifully serving in this other world.
Though is it still a lie if it’s repeated and acted upon for so long that it transcends truth and becomes reality itself? Does it even matter?
“And like any traitor, he will be made an example of.” Dygel declared with glee, a grin of pure malevolence slashed across his bloated face.
“Which is, might I ask?” Koi raised an eyebrow. Not that he cared, but whatever that keeps the small talk going. Neither of them have anything better to do at the moment besides gawking at the spectacle, the only real entertainment of these savage natives of this savage world.
“His bone to be broken on the wheel, his skin to be flayed by ten thousand cuts, his limbs to be torn asunder by horses, his organs ripped from his back. And finally, the wretched remains to be fed to the wild dogs.” The words dripped out of the fat bastard’s mouth, as if he’s already savoring the blood soaked torture.
“Careful though, dude down there might pull a Mel Gibson.” Koi remarked, knowing full well the historical inaccuracies in that classic movie from the previous century. But then, this world operates on slightly different rules, the rules of a farce of a fantasy, so it’s not completely out of the bounds of possibility.
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
“That has already been dealt with, for I had his lying tongue already eviscerated.” Dygel said, looking awfully smug of his little brilliance.
“Ah yes. Very wise of you to do so.” Koi nodded, filing the tidbit of information away to a compartmentalized part of his mind. A complete scumbag and sadist Dygel might be, but he certainly knows the political game well. If anything, better than anyone else in both worlds, though that seemed to be a very low bar these days.
Or rather, he and the likes of him are what the people of this world deserve. Koi reminded himself once again that the crowds down below are gleefully cheering on the person who had [supposedly] saved them from literal demon hordes, who believed a fat bastard who had betrayed every government he was part of in any capacity over someone who risked his life for a people and place he was, quite literally, dropped into.
A world in which despite the moral virtues of the inhabitants, is doomed to have endless suffering inflicted upon it for eternity by forces far beyond the comprehension of mere mortals as well as the consequences of their own actions.
A world whose judgment he has fundamentally rejected, and thus now immune from its judgment.
“Now that the last of the problems has been dealt with, why are you still here?” Dygel asked, finally getting to the point after the exchange of pleasantries. “Your country lost, forced to scuttle back to the world in which you came from.”
“Lose, lose where?” Koi chuckled, for once catching Dygel by surprise. “We have gotten everything we wanted: Our military had been honed in with decades’ worth of real life training. Our businesses raped these lands of their mineral riches, and with the influx of refugees from your world even our demographic problems are being mitigated. Face it, we took this world for a ride and for all its worth.”
To his mild surprise the fat bastard simply chuckled back. “So it appears. As if any of that mumble jumble means anything to me.” The way he made the statement was not from a position of ignorance, but rather one in which he knew exactly what he’s talking about. “It appears that both of our countries have profited greatly from this.”
“It appears so.” Koi nodded slowly. “And it is in both of our countries’ interests to make sure… that others do not reap any benefits. Especially those with ulterior intentions to your hard earned riches” Appealing to the welfare of the people was obviously a pointless and lost cause, thus he skipped to directly appealing to the regent's enlightened self interests.
“Well then, let them come. For heroes will always rise to the occasion to defeat the forces of evil.” Dygel waved off the implicit threat.
“Like the last 20 years?” Koi pointed out the uncomfortable obvious.
“And when during those couple of decades, or even before that, was it ever a problem for me?” Dygel shrugged off the concern. “The gods will protect and bless me as they have always done.”
“So it appears.” Koi said slowly, conceding the point. “So it appears.” Something in the pit of his stomach tells him otherwise, that it is madness to put one’s safety in the hands of fate and other immaterial forces. Yet perhaps it is how this world here works. Maddening as it seems.
“You can’t win against the will of the gods.” Dygel said in a gloating tone, narrowing his eyes as he noticed the American spy’s discomfort. “None of you can, no one can, whichever world you come from. All foretold from the beginning of time to the end of time.”
“Then I simply wish for your continued favored status by the gods.” Koi said as he got up from his chair. Tied up loose ends or not, it’s only a matter of time before the fabric starts fraying again, as if fraying everywhere wasn’t its natural state of affairs.
Surely the gods wouldn’t mind him playing around with some of those strands in the name of his country? They certainly took their sweet time the last time around, and the time before that, and…
“Leaving so soon? Don’t want to enjoy the show?” Dygel asked as he waved a hand to the scene below, where the former hero had been dragged up the wooden execution platform, and the bloody show was about to commence.
“Not my particular cup of tea, to be honest.” Koi shrugged, trying to brush off as something casual rather than the ingrained distaste due to his first world sensibilities.
“Heh, I see. Gets boring after a while huh?” Dygel said as he got up himself, the chair groaned and creaked under the shifting of his massive bulk. “Well, work waits for no one, and I shall personally dispense justice to the rest of the former hero’s party in the dungeon.”
“Of course, of course.” Koi said through a gritted smile as he passed to the fat bastard another bottle of pills, this time little blue pills whose main purpose would be… well, it’s pretty obvious. At least the former hero was given the decency of a relatively quick & painless death, for the same could not be said for the rest of the party.
Peace has returned to a world undeserving of such things, and the only change over 20 years by the greatest superpower of the known worlds was just a different scumbag in the royal palace.
And a few hundred thousand guns and other dangerous tools floating about, a number that Koi fully intends to do his part to increase.
As the common saying in the marine corps: “A war is coming”. The words ring true for this world far more than it ever was for earth.
Another war is coming, as surely as the sun and the stars move each day and night.
Truck kun better get busy, for this world needs more heroes than ever before.