In a tiny security room, a fat man was dozing off. His belly rested against the armrest of the leather chair as he sat in it. His head sagged to rest on the desk, but as soon as it touched the desk, his eyes snapped open.

The loud alarm woke the man up. In a panic, he jumped to his feet and looked around the room. Monitors linked to automated cameras with moving bases focused on an unknown man at the main entrance. He had encountered this scenario before, but this time, he noticed a high level of alertness. He saw the text ‘D4IE’ written on the primary display when he looked to the right.

From personal experience, he knew it was above his guaranteed paycheck; the man knew what to do. He dialed the emergency number, connecting him to the higher-ups.

“D4IE, D4IE. DANGER LEVEL 4: IMMEDIATE EVACUATION! This isn’t a drill!”

A fat security guard shouted, hoping to be heard. He received a question from the other end of the line.

“What? How does it look?”

The fat man examined one of the highest-quality cameras near the receptionist; the intruder had already approached the receptionist. He was dressed casually, but he didn’t appear to be a normal person.

“A man, tall, with unruly hair and rectangular glasses, between the ages of 20 and 25. His eyes...”

He tried to focus on the man’s pitch-black eyes. The man faced the camera. He looked at the abyss, and the abyss looked back.

The fat man was stuck in his chair, unable to move. He was frozen in terror. He couldn't do anything except stare at the screen. It seemed like an eternity had passed for that fat man, but only a few seconds had passed for the intruder.

His vision returned, and the fat man’s heart rate increased; his eyes blurred, and foam formed at his mouth, knocking him unconscious. The man could hear a gurgling sound and an alarm ringing, and he became vigilant.

“What’s the problem? Respond!”

He shouted when he didn't receive a reply.

“Ugh! Lower-level guards are weak and pathetic. I’ll call my superior.”

He then hung up without waiting for a response.

***

Ichiro walked in through the main door and straight to the receptionist. She was a western-looking woman in a black dress with long blonde hair. Her name was Lisa, and she worked as a receptionist at their main headquarters. He asked about the whereabouts of his current boss, and she called someone on the office phone. He looked up at the camera on the ceiling behind her while he waited. It was a modern camera, and it was brand new because there had been no such system installed the last time he was there two weeks ago. A few seconds later, the receptionist ended the call and informed Ichiro that his boss would be there to accompany him.

After that, he waited, occasionally speaking to Lisa, until dozens of security guards arrived, each clutching a riot shield and a baton and wearing a riot helmet. Some wore armor, but it was haphazardly fitted. They surrounded him, leaving three meters between them, and the group’s most muscular member spoke.

“Identify yourself, intruder, or we will use force.”

Ichiro sighed inwardly as he realized the situation from this morning had reoccurred. He reached into his pocket and attempted to show his ID card in his wallet. But before he could open his wallet, someone from the higher-ups he didn’t know interrupted them, revealing his identity and his status as a new employee of the Special Inventory Delivery Department. The guards quickly apologized for the inconvenience and left. But first, other security guards dragged an unconscious, fat security guard to the exit. Ichiro noticed an ambulance down the street.

“I hope nothing bad happens to him.”

Ichiro remarked to himself, completely unaware that the man was unconscious because of him.

After a few minutes of waiting, his boss arrived. Kiyona was accompanied by her secretary, a stalwart man with a military haircut who held a tablet in his hands and typed away constantly. When he saw Ichiro, he smiled warmly at him.

Even though they weren’t related, the two of them appeared to be father and daughter due to their disparity in height. He immediately removed this thought from his mind because it was too amusing.

Ichiro formally greeted and bowed to them, and they both returned the gesture.

“Ichiro-san, follow me; your car is waiting in the parking lot. We need to get moving as soon as possible,” Kiyona spoke calmly, but her expression revealed her tension. Her secretary nodded, and they walked to the elevator. Ichiro said his goodbyes to the receptionist and followed them into the lift.

They took the elevator down, which was playing some catchy bossa nova music, until they arrived at the floor. As the lift came to a halt, the three felt little gravitational force. It was motionless for a moment before opening in all its splendor, revealing... a parking lot. Cold air rushed through the lift. Fluorescent lamps buzzed a little above the empty parking spaces.

They walked out of the lift and through ten lots before coming to a halt in front of a black armored truck with their logo on the front. It resembled an armored personnel carrier but was considerably smaller and less recognizable.

As she approached the truck, Kiyona turned to look at Ichiro and slammed the door sufficiently hard.

“Here it is: your very own truck! It comes with everything you need for a delivery job, so you don’t have to worry about anything. You can go wherever you want, whenever you want. Just make sure you deliver on time! It’s armored, so even if someone tries to attack you, they’ll fail. Inside is also a GPS tracker that can tell us your location in real time, allowing us to locate your truck. So take care of this truck!”

Kiyona was ecstatic. It was built by a gifted mechanic friend of hers. The truck was a one-of-a-kind beast. She felt that even though the company spent a lot of money on purchasing it, it was worthwhile. Because it will only be used by her and her staff, they installed more advanced security features than would normally be found in a vehicle. Its tires were specially made to resist punctures and bullet holes, and its engine had twice the power of typical trucks.

Before Ichiro arrived, she had driven—er, her secretary had driven—while she sat in the passenger seat. During the brief time the truck was in her possession, she used the chance to test the vehicle’s capabilities.

Ichiro nodded, a little overwhelmed. He had never imagined that a large company would give him a brand-new truck that looked awesome. A single glance at the truck made him realize how big the responsibility was. He would most likely lose his job if he failed. That thought was unbearable, and it made him sick to his stomach.

Despite this, he maintained his cool. “Thank you very much, Kiyona-sama.”

“It’s fine, Ichiro-san,” Kiyona said cheerfully, “you just need to do what you normally do. I’ll leave the rest up to you.”

Ichiro bowed his head in thanks. He knew his job had become dangerous, but he was still up for the challenge. He knew exactly what to do and could defend himself. His life had been full of challenges, and he had always overcome them one after the other. This time would be no different.

The trio then walked behind the truck, and Ichiro opened it. It opened smoothly, and the first thing he saw was a full set of motorcycle armor in black matte color with the company logo embossed on it. The pepper spray, a small taser, a long-lasting simple phone or radio, a spare tire, and other miscellaneous tools were stored next to the armor.

He questioned whether the taser and pepper spray had the necessary licenses as he examined them. Kiyona laughed and said there was no such thing. She did, however, warn him that she would need to be informed right away if he ever used it.

Ichiro wore the armor over his everyday clothes without hesitation. It was a perfect fit. When he put the helmet on, he realized it was a little too small for his head. He sighed, took it out, and put it back in the truck. He was now ready.

“So, your first delivery will be to take a metal box from a warehouse near the port and deliver it to one of the local shrines near the Tottori castle. The box contains valuable items, so handle it with care. Kagu-tsuchi is the official receiver’s code name; dial this number when you’re inside a city, and he’ll tell you where to meet. Oh, and you only have until 16:00 to arrive; after that, the receiver will be gone, and the request will be considered a failure. Did you get it?”

“Yes, Kiyona-sama.”

“Good!”

She then handed him the papers, on which he could see the order details and the approximate address. He quickly scanned it and nodded. One thing she had not mentioned was the description of the recipient. He was described as a young male with crimson hair. There was nothing else.

Ichiro shut the back door of his now-personal truck and walked into the front driver's door. Then he rotated and inserted the keys that he had found on top of the passenger seat.

*VROOM*

The engine was almost silent, contrary to his expectations. It didn’t sound like a regular truck. It instead sounded like a high-end sports car. He pressed the gas pedal a few times to get a feel for the engine, which he found to be responsive and smooth.

This noise reminded him of a classmate who was a car enthusiast. If he had been here, he would have exclaimed how cool this machine was. And how much he despised the school rules prohibiting students from owning cars or motorcycles. Ah, those were the good old days. Ichiro snapped out of it, lowered the window glass, and asked a question.

“Um, where should I go to pick up the package?”

The two people who were about to leave him stopped moving when they heard this specific question. They turned their heads towards Ichiro and burst out laughing. They had forgotten to write down the warehouse’s address. The secretary gave him the address, which was near the Osaka Bay Area. Ichiro entered it into the GPS system on the screen to his right. He then said his goodbyes and drove out of the parking lot.

***

“Are you sure he’ll be alright, Kiyona-sama? Despite his many incarnations, he is one of the constantly unsatisfied customers.”

In the elevator, the secretary asked a question, exuding a sense of uneasiness and displaying signs of worry.

Kiyona gave a gentle smile. “I’m sure Ichiro will be fine. He breached the barrier at our building’s main entrance. That’s enough proof for me.”

The secretary looked relieved but said nothing further. However, he then asked another question.

“Another question that bothers me: why did you give him a truck like that? Do we really need to give him something like that? There must be other vehicles we could’ve given him, or we could even not bother changing his truck. Kiyona-sama, what do you think?”

“There weren’t any others that met his criteria,” Kiyona replied simply. “I believe giving him a powerful vehicle is the best way to put his abilities to the test. We are testing him, so think about it.”

The lift finally came to a halt, and they returned to their personal office in silence. They had a lot of questions in their heads, but they didn’t dare to ask them.

***

While they were talking, Ichiro pulled over to a nearby gas station. He didn’t notice it at first, but the fuel gauge showed that there was almost no fuel left. Ichiro was unaware that someone had been test driving it lately, leading to its depletion. He had to pay out of his own pocket for the entire fuel tank. He planned to save the receipt and show it to them to get his money back as ‘necessary spending.’ While waiting for it to fill up, he watched NueTube.

His new truck piqued the unusual interest of those around him. A military-looking truck that appeared to have come from some sort of secret government program was refilling at a gas station? It was barely breaking news. However, it was a big deal to the internet troll who was idly strolling down the street until he saw that truck. He took a picture and later posted it with a plausible caption on an anonymous online forum.

A few minutes later, the fuel tank was completely full. He had nearly a hundred liters of octane-95 gasoline in the tank now, and he had paid nearly 20,000 yen for it. He replaced the fuel hose, screwed on the cap, closed the hatch, and walked into the gas station to get something to drink. The cashier girl was staring at him, but he didn't notice.

Ichiro climbed into his armored truck and started the engine. Under the hood, there was a loud growl. The sound was now more in line with what he expected from a typical truck.

He pressed down hard on the accelerator, and the engine responded instantly. With the engine roaring, he sped up without hesitation. He was now speeding through Osaka’s streets, heading straight for the main road. His first delivery job under a new department had just begun!