Illustration by : Axelord
Goes by the handle Anonymous on 4chan
Hearing the scream snapped John out of his state of panic. The words sound familiar, but he couldn’t identify the language yet. It didn’t matter, he needed to understand the situation at hand, other things can wait.
Swiveling his head, he surveyed the surroundings, and saw soldiers in neat ranks assembled to his right. They were dressed in armour and holding spears, cosplayers straight out of a renaissance fair. The leaders standing in front of the ranks and file had their helmets off, revealing their blonde, red and brown hair. Caucasians.
Not just them, the soldiers also look Caucasian. The woman who screamed just now was also a Caucasian. When John saw the armed troops, he thought of the term Romans. But the language wasn’t anything like Greek or Latin, so he amended his name in his head for them to NotRomans.
John blinked and looked carefully at the background for the first time. He wasn’t in the city anymore, but a grass plain with a bright azure sky above. The view would be mesmerising if not for the morbid reality at hand.
Go now, think about my options later.
Having set his mind on fleeing the scene of the crime, John switch into reverse and spun the steering wheel to the right. He then steered left to straighten the truck and switched into forward drive.
The NotRomans finally snapped out of their stupor and shout angrily at him, rushing towards John with spears and shields in hand. One of the leaders was directing men towards the collapsed woman, flanking John from the other side.
However, John had no intention of staying around to observe their deployment. With a blast of his horn, John managed to surprise the NotRomans with the loud sound and sped ahead. There was no way the NotRomans could catch up on foot.
John instinctively searched out a dirt trail and drove onto it. It is not as good as tarred road, but it will do for now. John drove away from the NotRomans, leaving them in the dust.
I have done it now. Hit and Run. With a hell lot of witnesses too.
With his adrenaline rush cooling down, John began to think things through logically. He was driving in the suburbs of Japan, and suddenly he was in the middle of the grass plains surrounded by NotRomans. And what that woman screamed…
Then it hit him. He heard that phrase before, in many of the videos he watched. He learned its meaning from the subtitle.
Yamete. She screamed Yamete just now.
It was clear to John now. Those Caucasians... NotRomans, were speaking Japanese.
♦ ♦ ♦
John drove his truck off the road about thirty minutes later. The road conditions were really bad, so he couldn’t make good time, only managing to drive at a steady pace of 60km/h. He didn’t really have any destination in mind, so he didn’t need to rush.
What prompted him to stop was the appearance of a castle. The word that came to John’s mind was Medieval. Flags were flown on top of the castle walls, which was surrounded by a moat and a lowered bridge. After parking his truck behind a knoll, John used his toy binoculars to survey the area, which was surrounded by farm lands filled with crops and livestocks.
The people didn’t wear helmets here, revealing their hair of varied colours, unlike the signature black hair of asians. It might be possible for almost the entire population to dye their hair, but that was improbable. Somehow, John was teleported into another world that looked kind of middle ages in setting, where the Caucasian residents spoke Japanese.
John wondered if God or a GM will pop up and tell him what is happening but scoff at the idea. That would be a convenient plot device, but life itself didn’t have a manual, one had to figure out what to do by yourself. It would be nice if John could go back, but he had no clue how. Maybe if he drove around in the truck more, he could open a portal back into the original world?
John started refueling the truck. He was planning to top up the truck after finishing the delivery when this thing happened. Having emergency fuel was a basic for truck drivers, but he will run out if he drove for another day or so.
I need a guide in this world, someone who will be willing to help and tell me about this world.
Suddenly, wyverns attacked. About a dozen of them swooped down from the sky in an attempt to pick off the people working in the farm. Most of the attempts failed, but two men were picked off. When they were grabbed by the wyverns claws, they went limp, like a mannequin with its thread severed.
John couldn’t hear from this distance, but the NotRomans were probably screaming as they ran for the safety of the castle.
Except for one figure that was running away from the castle instead. Noticing the lone figure that separating from the crowd, a pair of wyverns focused on it, making dives at it. The figure waited til the last moment before throwing itself onto the ground, avoiding the attacks. It then pull off the cloaks covering it and ran at full strides.
The figure was a girl wearing dirty and tattered clothes with her hands chained together. She was dressed like a prisoner, but her movement was fast and nimble. Her long black hair flowed behind her as she ran desperately for the woods.
Whelp, that’s a good candidate.
John jumped into his truck and started the engine. Saving this girl will definitely earn him some good will, and she being seemingly a prisoner meant she won’t be turning him over to the authorities. There was one more thing other than ethics and benefits that drove John to rescue the girl.
That girl was a Japanese.