Chapter 13: Truck-Kun’s Nemesis

13. Truck-Kun’s Nemesis

Victor watched the treeline where the coward had vanished. For the first time since the King’s blood had stained the throne room floor, Victor felt the corners of his mouth twitch upward. It wasn't quite a victory, but it was a start.

"Did you see his face?" Rose leaned over the steering wheel, her eyes bright with predatory glee. "He nearly tripped over his own shoulder pads."

Just moments ago, Victor and Rose had chased down the Outworlder in the field with Tesla and DuraSal. Their experiment was a considerable success; the illusion of a semi-truck posing as Truck-kun had been immaculate, completely impeccable as the illusionary magic had covered Tesla. They’d hit the pedal to the metal, chasing down the Outworlder with the fake Truck-kun. With an unexpected boss battle, the Outworlder they’d chased had run away with his tail between his legs.

With a post-victory lap, Rose auto-piloted Tesla to return to their group by the edge of the woods. As they neared the others, she halted the vehicle and parked it. Victor ignored the Whispering Sword that demanded homicide.

“Suck my balls.” Princess Lataya declared, hands on her hips and her eyes shining triumphantly as Rose popped out of the driver’s seat.

“Princess, that isn't proper.” Victor said gruffly as he exited the passenger seat, then turned to glare at the party to see who taught the little lady to say ‘suck my balls’.

Rose cackled as she haunched over, clearly finding it a hoot while Ornik shook his head viciously, as if declaring that he was not the one to have taught the princess such foul terminology. Beside the two, their newfound companion—Ardyn—was taking notes, muttering under her breath at what a success the illusion test was.

“Relax Vic,” Rose wheezed, wiping a tear away from laughter as she stood up straight. “You have to admit, that was pretty stellar!”

Ornik nodded solemnly, “Though there were no stars, I would agree with Rose that it was indeed, stellar.”

A rare twitch of a smile flickered at the corner of Victor’s mouth. They were right, it was good news—no, great news that the illusion had worked. It was a temporary measure for the permanent solution they were hoping to achieve; obtain a real, totally solid, indisputably physical semi-truck that could take out the Outworlders and send them back where they belong. Dead on the street.

While Rose and Ornik chatted excitedly amongst themselves while Ardyn muttered unintelligible vehicular knowledge, Victor assisted the princess in returning to her rightful throne of the driver’s seat of Tesla.

"I hate to be the bringer of 'Patch Notes,'" DuraSal’s voice crackled through the speakers, sounding more tired than usual. "But that 'coward' was a weakling, and is one of the lower leveled Outworlders we’ve encountered. And based on the way the mana is swirling around that treeline... he just called his party."

“What?” Victor frowned, buckling Princess Lataya in the driver’s seat.

A monotone female voice chimed in: "Multiple pedestrians detected. Traffic jam imminent."

“Oh bother, let’s get out of here.” Rose rolled her eyes as she opened the backdoor, shoving Ornik and herself into the car. Before closing the door, she peeked out at Ardyn, “You good out here?”

“Absolutely.” Ardyn pushed up her glasses and hopped on her hoverbike, then casting projection magic to cover herself and her bike, giving herself a layer of illusionary protection.

“Whenever you’re ready, princess.” Victor buckled himself in on the passenger side and gave the 11 year-old a nod in which she returned with a mischievous smile.

“DuraSal, hit it!” The princess commanded, which was only met with a sigh in return as the unlimited battery powered up the Tesla.

“Full throttle commencing.” The car said as DuraSal gave it the ultimate boost in horsepower.

With a squeal from Princess Lataya, a cheer from Rose, and Victor and Ornik gripping the edge of their seats, the Tesla vroom-ed and was off.

Or so they thought.

As they peeled away from their original crime scene, trying to get away from the party that the solo Outworlder had called for, they were immediately met with an obstacle.

BUMP.

The Tesla didn’t just hit a bump; it performed a violent, bone-rattling leap that sent Ornik’s head into the ceiling with a wet thwack.

"Warning," the monotone voice chimed. "Suspension stress detected. Please consult your owner's manual."

"What was that?!" Rose hissed, clutching her coconuts to her chest to keep them from flying out the window. "We’re in a flat field!"

"Well, it wasn’t a rock," Victor growled, his hand flying to the hilt of the Whispering Sword. He looked out the windshield and felt his stomach drop.

Stretching across the grass were three perfectly formed, glowing yellow ridges. They hadn’t been there seconds ago. They were… magical speed bumps? And they were shimmering with a kind of reinforced geometry that probably wouldn't exist in nature. Except it did.

"Oh, no," DuraSal groaned through the speakers. "Not them. Not the neighborhood watch."

“Who?” Victor demanded, leaning towards the speaker, as if closer proximity would change his understanding of what the hell was going on.

“They’re a well known entity. Even Outworlders have to respect the… HOA Enforcement Squad.” DuraSal bemoaned.

“The what!?” Rose yelled as Ornik groaned from the blunt force trauma of his head by the car’s ceiling.

Fifty yards ahead, a teleportation ring appeared and a group of figures stepped out from behind a cluster of bushes. They weren't armored knights or robed wizards. They were women—older women—wearing colorful visors, floral-patterned vests, and expressions of deep, spiritual disappointment.

At the center stood a woman whose perm was so tight it looked like it could deflect arrows. She held a glowing, octagonal sign that read STOP in bold, aggressive letters.

"Speeding in a residential zone?" The woman’s voice boomed, amplified by what sounded like a megaphone made of pure ‘respect your elders’. "That is a fifteen-percent reduction in local property desirability! Tsk!"

"Residential zone?!" Victor shouted out the window. "This is a field near a World Core leak!"

“Who do you think you are anyway!?” Rose added furiously.

“We are the HOA Enforcement Squad!” The women posed like superheroes in preparation for a boss fight as they introduced themselves. There was Mrs. Kim, Ahjumma Sun-Hi, Young-Ja, Bok-Nam, and Myung-Sook.

"It is a future development site!" The woman, Mrs. Kim, retorted. She adjusted her visor and signaled to the others. Ahjumma Sun-Hi and Young-Ja stepped forward, planting signs in the dirt that pulsed with a dull red light: SPEED LIMIT: 15 MPH and ‘20 is Plenty’.

"Princess, drive through them," Victor commanded. "The illusion is active. We are a ten-ton herald of death. They’ll scatter."

Right?

"On it!" Lataya chirped, slamming her foot down.

The Tesla surged, the massive projection of the semi-truck roaring with a sound like grinding tectonic plates. It looked unstoppable. It looked like the end of the world for the Ahjummas.

Mrs. Kim didn't even blink. She just crossed her arms.

The illusion of the truck slammed into her—and passed right through her body like a mountain of mist. The Tesla, however, hit the invisible "Speed Limit" aura and let out a sound like a dying harmonica. The car abruptly jerked from sixty miles per hour to a crawl, so slow a turtle could have overtaken them.

"Problem detected," the female voice said. "Cruise control set to: HOA’d Neighborhood Zone."

"A visual bug?" Young-Ja called out, narrowing her eyes as she pulled a double-barreled shotgun made of enchanted jade from her floral tote bag. How the hell did that thing fit? "Trying to bypass the HOA with a texture pack? How tacky."

"Open fire!" Mrs. Kim barked. "Clear the trash from the sidewalk!"

BOOM.

A spray of mana-buckshot peppered the Tesla’s hood, sounding like a hail of pissed off coins.

"Victor!" Rose yelled, ducking as a second blast took out the side mirror. "The truck isn't scaring them! They think we're a bug in the system!"

Victor looked at the glowing runes on his palm. He looked at the Ahjummas, who were currently reloading with the practiced efficiency of career soldiers. Then he looked at his sword, which was whispering 'Blood for the blood god, but also, their shotguns look lovely.'

"Change of plans," Victor sighed, his soul leaving his body. "DuraSal, trigger the transformation. We’re going... full sparkle."

"Initiating Protocol: Pretty Guardian," DuraSal announced. The tone of the gemstone was no longer tired; it sounded like it was actively enjoying Victor’s suffering. Of course it was.

"Warning," the Tesla’s monotone voice added. "Outfit change may cause localized glitter inhalation."

The world exploded in pink light.

A vortex of cherry blossom petals and glitter swirled inside the cabin, smelling aggressively of strawberries and justice. Victor felt his Kingsguard leather dissolve, replaced by the horrifyingly light sensation of silk ribbons and a pleated skirt. His heavy boots were replaced by silk slippers; his scarred forearms were suddenly encased in white lace gloves. He didn't have to look in the rearview mirror to know he was wearing that giant, obnoxious bow again.

Beside him, Rose was already posing, her rogue’s daggers transformed into glowing wands shaped like crescent moons. In the back, Ornik let out a muffled croak as his toad-form was squeezed into a frilly tutu that hummed with "Better Poison" energy.

The Tesla itself didn't escape from the magical girl protocol. The semi-truck illusion flickered and died, replaced by a swirling aura of heart-shaped particles and a paint job that could only be described as ‘Ultimate Pastel.’

Outside, the Ahjummas froze, their jade shotguns resting against their floral vests.

Victor—now Victoria—stepped out first. His tall, muscular frame was encased in a white-and-pink dress with lace ruffles that defied the laws of both war and fashion. In his hair, a massive silk bow sat like a parasitic twin.

Rose followed, looking surprisingly comfortable in a rogue-ish mini-skirt, while Ornik stumbled out, his toad-skin shimmering under a tiny, glittery tiara. Magical Princess Lataya floated down last, glowing with a soft, golden light that made her look like a cherub.

"By the power of the Core," Victor growled, his voice a deep, gravelly bass that contrasted horribly with his outfit. "We... uh... we command you to cease your fire."

Mrs. Kim lowered her jade shotgun, her finger freezing on the trigger. Her intense, judgmental glare softened instantly. "Oh... oh my."

Ahjumma Sun-Hi gasped, clutching her floral vest. "Look at those pleats! Such craftsmanship."

Mrs. Kim marched forward, and Victor swallowed. They’d lowered their shotguns, but maybe they’d stab him with a fruit knife. Instead, she reached out and pinched Victor’s cheek with the force of a hydraulic press. "Look at you! So skinny! How can you fight with no meat on your bones? Does your mother know you’re out here in the woods looking like a malnourished noodle?"

"I... I am a Kingsguard," Victor wheezed through the cheek-pinch. He wasn’t even close to being malnourished! At least the Ahjummas weren’t gunning them down with their jade shotguns anymore.

"You are a magical girl who needs a bowl of soup," Myung-Sook declared, already reaching into her inventory. She pulled out a low-folding table and a stack of insulated Tupperware that seemed to defy the laws of space and time. "Bok-Nam, get the rice. Young-Ja, put the guns away. You can’t shoot guests when they look this adorable."

Within seconds, the "battlefield" was transformed. The magical speed bumps were deactivated, and the party was surrounded by the intoxicating smell of fermented cabbage and grilled meat.

What the hell was happening?

"Eat, eat!" Mrs. Kim commanded, shoving a spoonful of spicy kimchi toward Victor’s face. "The Outworlder boys are the ones we have a problem with. They keep jumping over our fences to 'grind' on my prize-winning hydrangeas. But you magical girls? You have manners. You have style."

Rose was already three bites into a pancake, muffled sounds of appreciation escaping her. Ornik was happily sipping a psychedelic tea that made his eyes glow a soft neon green.

Victor sat on a tiny plastic stool, his lace skirt spilling over the grass. He caught Ardyn’s eye; she was frantically sketching the Tupperware, likely wondering if it was useful data for her vehicular builds.

For a moment, there was peace. The sun was warm, the food was excellent, and the HOA was satisfied.

As if on cue, a loud, obnoxious whistle echoed from the woods.

"Yo! Check it!" A voice shouted. A group of five men in glowing neon armor burst through the brush. One held a massive claymore that glowed with a tacky RGB light-strip effect. "A Rare Spawn! It’s a Magical Girl Event! Look at the drop-rate on that tall one in the pink—that one’s practically glowing with XP!"

Victor froze, a piece of kimbap halfway to his mouth. The Whispering Sword at his hip didn't just whisper this time; it shrieked. 'KILL THEM. KILL THEM AND WE CAN HAVE CAKE FOR DESSERT.'

The lead Outworlder pointed his sword at Victor. "Stack up, boys! If we kill them now, we can clear the whole set of magical girls before the server resets! Bonus XP and drops!"

Mrs. Kim stood up, slowly. She didn't grab her shotgun. She just picked up her 'STOP' sign. "Young-Ja," she said calmly. "The boys are on the grass again."

"I'll get the hose," Young-Ja replied, her eyes narrowing.