《10k Years Silent Cultivation》Gary's Travel Diary
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[Midworld bar]
Ok, so I was chugging down my 10th pina colada earlier. The bartender had no idea what a pina colada was. I had to find a fucking ‘spectral’ pineapple. What makes it ‘spectral’ fuck If I know. It tastes like pineapple, and makes a good colada. Anyways, the fucking guy STEALS my idea, and starts selling it.
I know, I know I didn’t invent the pina colada, but still I introduced it to him.
I was sitting there minding my business, being all sad and shit. Talking to goo man. He’s a cool guy.
Man that sucked. I don’t know if I came in too hard, and fast? What? Did I leave for too long? How was I supposed to know it was going to collapse that quickly? Fuck. I should have kept my mouth shut, or asked goo dude to hide in space or something.
The fucking bartender has the NERVE to ask me if I want an 11th VIRGIN pina colada. What? I just told you about them, how do you know they come with liquor?
So I got mad, and left in a huff. I still tipped him, I have manners.
I did ask him why everyone here speaks the same language. Still terminally confused about that. He asked if I was an outer god or some shit talking about other languages. He looked at me like I was a conspiracy theorist for asking about the existence of languages other than ‘Manolish’. What the fuck is a manolish?
8/10 he let me cry on the counter.
I picked up a book. The cover… goes hard to say the least. I found this nice ass bench in a quiet lonely part of a public park near the bar. A nice calm lake in front of it. A guy comes fishing sometimes, but we just nod at each other. Cool guy. Been sleeping here since I don’t have an ID. Not really… feeling like doing stuff to get one… Goo bro says that’s bad, and I should get therapy.
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I’m not going back into a behavioral center until the heat death of the fucking multiverse. You want me in prison, put me in a prison.
The book’s about a guy who reincarnates in another world, and has awesome adventures. Seen it before, but it’s a good waste of time.
It’s title:
100 Years Tyrannical Ascension
Arrin lived his lackluster, lowly lif-
*cough cough*
Arrin woke up one fine morning feeling quite good about himself.
His life wasn’t perfect, but he had friends, family, and a positive outlook.
He got up, and stretched. He liked stretching. He walked into his bathroom, and brushed his teeth. He gave himself a warm smile.
He found that breakfast was ready. His mom was busy, busy packing lunches, checking her emails, to-do checklist, and giving orders.
His dad was following orders. Grooming himself, checking the news, locating keys, starting the car, etc.
‘Jump?’ He was already in the air.
“Arrin sweetie, did you make your bed?” Mom interrupted herself.
Arrin was chewing his salami. “Not yet.”
Dad was holding the door open. “Don’t forget this time, and don’t be late for work.” She pointed at him as she walked out the door.
His job was just down the road, a short 15 minute walk, so he didn’t need a ride.
He made his bed, and dressed up in his uniform. Fry-cooking was not his ideal career, but it was only for the here, and now.
He left his apartment, and began walking down the stairs. He greeted his neighbor, Koa. “Hey boss, how's it hanging?”
Koa scoffed neutrally. “It’s hanging alright.” he waved slightly.
Arrin nodded, and headed down. He spotted the nice lady next door struggling with groceries. He, and Koa helped her. He had time.
He headed out, and started walking.
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The day was quite calm. The sun felt just right, the breeze was refreshing.
As he walked he was greeted by various locals. He was a nice guy. Never a hassle to anyone.
Well, he was sometimes a hassle, but still he was alright. Amiable.
He stopped walking when he felt something brushing past his legs. It was the excitable little Yaji, a, well-taken care of, stray dog. He kneeled down, and began to pet it with a warm smile. He had time.
A short while later, he kept walking. He was anxious about the future, but he knows that life is slow, and steady. So long as there’s enough time, and enough effort, anything is possible. Well, not ANYthing anything, but yea.
He was waiting for the light to change. There was some light traffic. A moment earlier he would have already crossed. He wasn’t late or anything. He had time.
A loud noise escapes a nearby motel as he walks across the street. He turns, but is unable to determine what it was.
He hears a pop, a screeching dragging sound, and turns to see a familiar looking truck.
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