“Dun duun duun~♪ Tatta ta ta~”

The best part of my job is the ability to listen to the radio while doing it.

Normal jobs don’t allow that. In fact, normal jobs don’t allow you to do much. You have a set amount of time to go to the bathroom, a restricted period of fifteen to half an hour lunch break.

My job however, allows you to go to the bathroom whenever there is one available. It also lets you eat whenever you want. The only restriction you really have is that you got to meet a deadline. Oh, and not let anything get damaged.

It’s like working at home. But in my case, you hardly see home at all.

You can practically say that this truck of mine...is my home.

“That was the new hit song by the new idol group, U☆~”

“Oh? You star? No wonder it felt so catchy~ So it was an idol song huh.”

“Next is my favorite part: Reading all of your letters~!”

I couldn’t help but nod.

This is it. This is the classical radio program!

Due to the fact that I spend most of my day on the road, I hardly have any time to be at home and watch tv. However, thanks to the tv, most radio programs became obsolete. The only remaining ones are mostly political or endless loops of music. These types of old fashioned radio programs are now very rare, only catching them late at night or early mornings.

“...And the next letter is from Mister Lantern! ‘Hello DJ Sunrise, I really enjoy your show.’ Hello Mister Lantern, It’s really nice of you to tune in!”

The radio host’s deep, energetic voice fills me with energy as he continues to read the letter: “ ‘To be honest DJ Sunrise, you’re literally the sunrise of my life. As of late, I’m starting to hate going to work.’ I’m flattered Mister Lantern, but I’m already married!”

As the DJ chuckled, he left enough of a pause for me to laugh.

“‘To be honest, whenever I listen in, I can’t help but want to take a couple of beers and just chill out. Too bad the old woman in my life won’t allow me to drink this early in the morning!’ It’s still 5 in the morning Mister Lantern, you shouldn’t drink when it’s way too early!”

The DJ finished up the letter and then continued to read a couple more. After that, he announced the next song.

“...And this is the last song of our program! Before we play ourselves out, please listen to today’s sponsor. Today’s sponsor is the department of traffic: ‘A tree never hits an automobile except in self-defense.’ Thanks for tuning in today, ladies and gentlemen!”

“Pshh, drunk driving? Only morons do that.”

As I said that, I returned my focus back to the road.

However, the road was pretty empty. Devoid of cars and people alike. I guess it’s too early for people to be outside, huh?

Ten minutes later, I started yawning.

After the previous program ended, the next program is an educational program that teaches children the numbers and alphabets.

“Shit, this is too boring.”

I changed the channel to one of a loop of nothing but music.

“At least this is better than learning the ABCs.”

And just in time, I heard the heavenly bells.

“Ding ding~”

A tone echoed out of my phone. It was my message tone!

“It must be Shinigami. That guy usually stays up until now.”

Making sure that the road was clear of both cars and pedestrians, I picked up my phone to see what the message is about.

“Oh, I was right. It was Shinigami.”

>Hey dude, didn’t you say you drive a truck for a living?

Checking the road again, and only after making sure it’s alright, I typed back.

Yeah Lol. Why are you curious all of a sudden?<

“What’s gotten into him all of a sudden? He usually only talks about games or anime”

Almost as soon as I said that, a text came back.

>I’ve started reading novels yeah. And there’s a popular genre.

Is that so?<

“What does reincarnation have to do with me being a truck driver though?”

I quickly wrote that into the phone and sent it back.

>There’s a trope going around that if a truck runs over the main character, he gets to reincarnate in a new world.

“...What the hell?”

I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. As I was laughing, I typed out,

>But what does that have anything to do with the poor truck!? Leave our trucks alone!

However, before I hit send I tentatively took a glance at the road.

“Oh shit!”

A person walked into the road. Fuck fuck fuck fuck! From the corner of my eyes, I can see that the traffic light is green. Is that guy too drowsy to notice it?

I the phone from my hands, and it fell below to feet. I kicked the phone with my foot as I hit the brakes as hard as I could. But I couldn’t care less about that. I pulling the horn cord while at the same time breaking the steering wheel to the opposite side so as to avoid him.

However, he was simply too close and it was too late.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

If he didn’t take another step forward, then I might have missed him….

“...FUCK!”

But. He took that extra step.

Just before I ran over him, we made eye contact.

His blue eyes were bloodshot, his hair was disheveled. His eyes were wide open, probably out of despair. I felt time slow down. Fuck. Gotta avoid him. My body wasn’t moving as I commanded it. With a vicious smile placed on his face, I couldn’t help but shudder. With that, I... ran over him.

I immediately got out of the truck and ran over to his bleeding body.

“H-hey...A-are you alright!?!”

The only response I got back was more blood escaping his body.

“Fuck, what do I do?! Do I do CPR?!”

I started to panic.

Right. Ambulance. Authorities.

I checked my pocket for my phone, but I couldn’t find it.

“Phone...phone! Phone, I need my phone!”

I quickly ran back to the truck and got my phone.

I opened up the dialer and started to type the emergency calling center.

However, I kept pressing the wrong buttons.

“Stop...stop shaking. He might still be alive! If I don’t call an ambulance now, he might really lose all chances at life!”

With that, I finally was able to contact the authorities.

…

…

…

Since then, it’s been about half a day.

I was held in a prison cell until all things were sorted out.

That is until…

“...You. Come with me.”

A middle-aged man in a suit opened the locks to the cell and started leading the way.

For some reason or another, I’m in cuffs.

“I-I...H-he jumped into the street. I already told the other officer about it…”

The man in the suit said, “I’ll listen to all of it in the interrogation room.”

I nodded and followed along.

The man led me to a room that had a uniformed officer standing outside. When the officer saw us walking toward him, he smiled and opened the door for us.

I took a glance inside the room, and it was pretty much empty. Four walls. Two bolted chairs. A bolted table in the middle. However, just like the movies, there was a mirror on one of the walls.

After we entered the room, the door was closed by the officer.

The man--who I will assume from this point forward as a detective--gestured for me to sit on one of the chairs that faced the mirror. Then pulled out a key and started to uncuff me.

Or so I thought, but he only freed one of my hands before cuffing me to the table.

After that, he took a seat opposite of me and smiled: “Do you know why you’re here?”

Just remembering it makes me want to vomit. But I have to answer.

I nodded, “I-It’s because someone committed suicide by running in the middle of the street on a red light.”

The man shook his head, “Is that your excuse now? You should’ve said that to the on-sight officer first before trying it out on me.”

“Eh?”

I was taken aback. What?

“What do you mean?”

That’s exactly what I told the officer who responded to me.

“I-I was texting and driving...A-and he suddenly appeared in the middle of the road…”

“Is that so?” The detective smiled, “How odd. That’s not what the officer wrote in his report. He said that you told him, and I quote: ‘I c-couldn’t help it. My life felt so miserable...So I thought I’d make someone else’s life even more miserable than mine’. What can you say about that?”

“W-what are you talking about? I’ve never said any of that!”

The detective chuckled, “Are you sure?”

I couldn’t help but feel my back grow cold. My heart tightened as I tried to think of any way to prove him false.

“I-if that’s the case, then why did I call the authorities!?”

“Of course, to confess.”

After saying that, the detective stood up. He eyed the camera at one of the corners of the room, as he made his way to the door and left.

“This...what’s happening? There’s no way I said that. It was all an accident after all…”

After recalling everything that happened, and making sure that I truly did not do anything wrong, the door to the interrogation room was swung open as the detective from earlier came in with a cup of coffee and a piece of paper.

“I’d like you to sign this.” He said as he handed me the paper.

The paper was a written confession of me willingly murdering the...Eh? This name...Paul Bright. This name is familiar…

And as if reading my mind, the detective sternly said: “How could you aim to kill mister Bright’s son? Is this your way of trying to intimidate him from running for prime minister? If you don’t confess, then you’ll be treated as a terrorist. Hurry up and sign it so you can plea for leniency.”

He then took a sip of the coffee before setting it down on the table.

There’s no way this is possible.

“This is a mistake...A coincidence!”

The detective shouted back, “There are no coincidences in this world!”

“I...I demand a lawyer.”

The detective shrugged, “Even terrorist deserves lawyers. We’ve already called one for you. However, it seems that he’ll be running a bit late…”

“...”

This...this can’t be real.

Am I being set up?

The detective then made a gesture at the mirror, then returned to face me.

“It’s too late kid. You’ve gone and done it. You were at the wrong place at the wrong time. Bright can’t have ghosts haunt his campaign.”

“W-what do you mean…?”

The detective laughed again. If not for the circumstances, I would’ve genuinely thought that this man was a cheerful person.

“You’re really slow, aren’t you? What I’m saying is, you’ve just helped turn our future prime minister’s greatest weakness to one of his greatest strengths. Just think about it. He can now run for freedom out of terror, and garner the love and sympathy of the public.”

A chill ran down my spine. This man...what?

“He’s using his own son...for...eh?”

I can’t think past that point. It’s simply too frightening.

The detective’s next words snapped me back to reality.

“Hurry up and sign it, so we can give you the plea deal and get it over with. If you do that, at the very least, you’ll avoid capital punishment.”

I...am being framed.

“I’m being framed!”

I shouted at the top of lungs.

“Help! I’m being framed!!”

“It’s useless. The walls are soundproof.”

When I heard that, I couldn’t help but get taken by a sense of despair.

I...what about my parents? My friends?

This...this will destroy everyone I know…

“I’m not a murderer!”

I shouted.

“I’m not a murderer!!!”

Flashes of the guy, Paul, before dying flashed before my eyes.

You…

The despair I felt inside me turned into anger.

Without me noticing, the detective gestured back at the camera.

I looked up at the detective, and I saw him smile back to me.

Seeing that smile, I grabbed the cup of coffee he brought along and splashed it on his face.

“Oww! Assault, assault! The suspect has assaulted me!”

The detective screamed, as the door was kicked open by the uniformed officer from earlier that came to the detective’s ‘rescue’.

After that, the days moved quite quickly.

I found out that the lawyer they got me wasn’t putting in even the slightest amount of effort to help me out.

The judge they got was nothing but bought off scum.

The jury, warped by what the media has told them, wrote me off as guilty before even hearing my case out.

They used video footage of me splashing the detective with coffee as proof of my aggressiveness.

And to my dismay, and their surprise, they retrieved the conversation I had with Shinigami as proof to solidify my motive.

It all moved way too fast. Before I even realized, I was already on the high platform to be hanged.

Yes...I was sentenced to capital punishment.

It didn’t even take two months.

The trial ended and I was quickly offered as a sacrifice to appease the public.

My hate toward Bright was at its fullest. However, at death’s door, I only felt helplessness.

Someone who worked there--I’ll call him the executioner--came and helped me out with the knot on my neck.

I stood still as he slowly tightened the rope on my neck.

Just as he was about to finish, he spat out: “I hope you reincarnate as a dog.”

After he said that, with all of the power I had in my body, I bit his hand.

“ARGHH!!!”

The executioner shouted as he stumbled off the platform. I looked ahead of me, where there was a chamber with a window filled with people--witnesses to my execution, I believe--I closed my eyes, raised my arms and flipped them off.

“Fuck Bright.”, I shouted as hard as I could.

…

…

…

Huh?

I don’t feel anything...did the mechanism fail to drop me?

God damn, and I had this whole thing planned out.

I don’t want to open my eyes.

…

…

...Screw it, I’m opening my eyes.

“Eh?”

I no longer was in that dark room watched by people as I was about to be hanged.

Oh no...I was...ah...in a place filled with trees.

“A...forest?”