The next thing Benton knew, he was standing in what looked like a bog-standard corporate office. Cheap carpet squares. Lay-in acoustic tile ceiling. Fluorescent lights. White dry-erase board.
The truck had crashed into him. He rembered vividly standing in the street facing it with his arm covering his head. The hood had struck his torso first, forcing his head forward.
Things had gone black at that point. He didn’t even recall any pain.
The best explanation he could co up with was that he’d hit his head on the truck, causing him to lose consciousness. But where was he and how did he get there?
Benton patted himself down. No injuries. No blood. His clothes, the sa ones he’d put on in the morning, had no tears or stains.
What. The. Heck.
“You present with quite an annoyance,” a flat voice said.
A man was sitting behind a desk. Benton hadn’t noticed him. Nor the desk.
“This is not an unprecedented situation,” the man continued, his face blank of any emotion, “but it is quite rare. Usually, when a civilian interferes with a Truck-kun, the potential hero is actually saved, so we simply send the civilian in the hero’s place. No problems. No complications.”
Hero?
“This ti, however, that particular hero was too important, so we sent two Truck-kuns.” Despite the complete lack of expression either on his face or in his voice, the man seed very satisfied with the statent. “The hero is beginning his journey as we speak, so all is right with that plane. What to do with you is the question.”
Benton had always been pretty quick on the uptake, so even though his present circumstances were far outside his experience, he grokked the situation sowhat, enough to figure out that his fate hung in the balance.
“Sorry for interfering with your plans, sir.” Always best to be polite when dealing with the higher ups. “I don’t suppose you can just send right back down to Earth?”
“If you so desire.”
Benton would have been elated had he not spent much of his life in etings with bigwigs. He sensed a huge caveat to the man’s statent. “But?”
“But you died. There is no returning to your forr life. We can, however, return your soul to that plane and allow it to continue its journey as if this encounter had never happened.”
Benton opened his mouth to ask a question, but the man cut him off.
“The rules of your plane of origin are quite strict,” the man said. “I cannot tell you anything about your future journey if I were to return you. Not even I know fully what will happen.”
Ah. If the man were positive that returning would have ant Benton would be able to return to Evelyn, any decision would have been a no brainer. Seeing as how that wasn’t guaranteed, he figured he might as well see what else might be available.
“Can I go to whatever place Mike went?” Benton said.
“Unfortunately, no. The restrictions surrounding his transmigration are quite complex and limiting. Had he not been successfully recruited, that plane would have had no option but to accept you as a replacent. As things stand, however, under no foreseeable circumstances will you encounter the entity forrly known as Mike Larson again.”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Oh. I suppose that’s fine if that’s what he chose. It’s not like the two of us were close.”
“He did not choose,” the man said, his voice and face still utterly flat. “Entities recruited by Truck-kun are almost never given a choice. If the entity forrly known as Mike Larson had survived, you would not have had any other option than to take his place.”
“Interesting. Why are we having this discussion, then?”
“Because there are no planes currently available with a selection criteria that you match, and because Truck-kun inadvertently recruited you, we are obligated by Rule to do sothing about it.”
That was really interesting. It seed as if Benton had more than a little sway in the process.
“What are my options, then?”
“Infinite,” the man said. “It would be far easier if you simply told what kind of plane you would find interesting, and I will select the most appropriate available one.”
“I don’t suppose returning to Earth in another body would be possible?” That wouldn’t be ideal, but he’d at least be able to keep tabs on his family.
“No. Again, the rules associated with your forr plane are quite limiting. We cannot return you to that plane as a living being, only as a soul. In fact, we must return your soul once you have completed any potential life you live in another plane.”
Benton had been a little bit on the fence about the whole being transmigrated thing, but the fact that his soul would eventually return regardless changed his mind. If souls eventually found loved ones in the afterlife as he believed, his soul and Evelyn’s would be reunited no matter his choice now. Going on an adventure in a new world had no real downside.
A thought struck him. “Will I retain all my mories from my past life?”
“Is that your desire?” the man asked.
“Definitely. That’s a no brainer and non-negotiable.”
“That decision will eat up a chunk of your available Karma Points, but I can make that work, depending on what other conditions you require.”
Benson found the fact that the man was only just now ntioning sothing that sounded as important as Karma Points to be more than a little frustrating, but he also found little value in expressing his displeasure at that point. Best to just continue on. “My grandson writes webnovels where people in a situation like mine end up gaining a System. I want one of those.” Greg’s stories always made those sound fun.
“That is acceptable.”
“Really?” Benton had been kind of throwing out a wild idea, not expecting Systems to be a thing. “There are enough worlds that you can find one with a System?”
“There are an infinite number of planes in which Systems exist just as there are an infinite number of planes without Systems.”
Benton nodded. Besides internalizing the assumption that a “plane” and a world were basically the sa, things always got weird when talking about infinities.
“Prepare for departure in five … four—”
“Wait!” Benton cried. “I’m not done. I want perks.”
The protagonists in Greg’s stories always got powers that made them overpowered compared to everyone else.
“Sorry,” the man said. “Compliance with your two current conditions have exhausted your supply of Karma Points. You will take what you get.”
Benton was definitely the go-along to get-along type, but being polite with a bigwig only got one so far. Sotis, one had to show their ttle.
“Your Truck-kun made the mistake, not . You are responsible for making this right. And simply dumping on a System world with my mory intact and no advantages is the very definition of not making this right!”
“I’m sorry, but—”
“No. No ‘but.’ Make this right or get your boss. Now.”
Ugh! At that mont, he sounded like soone he really didn’t want to be, but literally an entire lifeti hinged on this one interaction. He had to be forceful.
For the first ti, the man’s relentless impassiveness cracked. He appeared at least slightly perturbed. “The best, the absolute best, that I can do for you is to put you on a world where you, and you alone, have access to a System.”
Benton tried to interject but was shushed.
“I will ensure the System specifically offers you perks.”
“That sounds acceptable.” Benton grinned. “Now, about the specific world you’re sending to. I’d like—”
“No. I’ve wasted enough of my energy on this conversation. This is a one-ti offer. Your choice is to accept it and move to the new plane that I will personally prepare for your arrival or to return to your plane of origin.”
Benton sensed that the man was truly done. “Fine. I choose to go to the new plane.”
“Ready yourself. Transition in five … four…”
Considering the circumstances, Benton felt like he’d done a good job negotiating for himself. He’d have access to a System and perks and would retain his current mories. What more could he ask for?
“Three … Two…”
Benton envisioned himself joining an adventurer guild and grinding until he was able to fight dragons. As long as his new world wasn’t one with cultivators, it would be fine. He shivered at the callousness displayed by the characters in those types of stories.
“One.”
Wait. Maybe he should have said sothing about the cultivators.
The world went black. Again.
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