So. The kei truck.
One of the catalog’s most premium-priced offerings… a cool one million yen.
The offering-box savings evaporated almost entirely in one purchase — but it was worth every coin.
Because this is, inexplicably, a SOLAR-POWERED self-driving kei truck.
No company on Earth manufactures such a product, I’m fairly certain—
『‘Tis the other-world specification. I list nothing useless in my catalog. Mind thee though — solar power means the horsepower is nothing to boast of.』
—was our Money-Grubbing God’s official answer.
It runs on gasoline too, naturally — but importing fuel costs money.
At which point the freight economics of town deliveries collapse entirely.
Remarkably, and quite out of character, the Money-Grubbing God is covering breakdown service FREE. A genuinely divine level of customer support.
『Thou art a regular mar— AHEM! A valued customer. This much I can do.』
So that’s the arrangement, apparently.
The truck’s solar system holds a substantial charge, incidentally.
Still, running dry mid-route would be bad, so I decided to keep one emergency fuel can in the bed.
『Fine by me, but fuel cans are DANGEROUS, thou knowest. I’ll not be run ragged with breakdown claims — I shall render it safe with god-power.』
Who IS this Money-Grubbing God today? He has redeeming qualities after all.
Well — gasoline genuinely is hazardous material, so I’ll accept this one with honest gratitude.
—And so, here we are… assembled before a kei truck loaded to the rails with sugar sacks.
“Do be serious, Lord Tatsuya? A gigantic lump of iron like this, MOVING on the power of the sun…”
Maria was giggling — she genuinely, sincerely believes it’s a joke.
The palm-top rabbits were scurrying all over the truck bed and cab with intense scientific interest — four of them dangling off the steering wheel.
One rabbit was hanging from a cord like a dashboard mascot charm. I burst out laughing on sight, no defense possible.
“But Maria… Master has astonished us at every turn. If it is Master, then even the impossible…”
“Now now, Ouroboros? Even for Lord Tatsuya, THIS one strains belief? My assessment: an OOPArt of the ancient magic civilization, powered by magic stones.”
At that, Ouroboros clapped her hands together.
“Even so it would be a preposterous device, but… yes, if it were an ancient-civilization OOPArt running on special magic stones…”
But Maria shook her head.
“Magic stones are premium materials, harvested rarely from dragons and their kin. As an energy source they are ruinously expensive… for hauling SUGAR, the cost calculus is hopeless.”
Interesting.
So the ancient magic civilization apparently had similar transport — complete with its own version of the fuel-cost problem.
I allowed myself a smug little laugh.
“No magic stones involved.”
“Indeed, I sense none of their characteristic mana signature, but then how…”
Key in hand, I climbed into the driver’s seat.
Inserted it. Turned it.
“IT MADE A SOUND?!”
At the engine’s rumble, the whole crowd erupted.
I eased down on the accelerator, and—
“IT MOVED?! The lump of IRON?! With NO magic stone?!”
“Tatsuya is amazing~! The iron carriage is AMAZING~!”
“Onii-chan really is incredible… not even dwarves could ever build THIS.”
Everyone stared at the kei truck with sparkling, mystified eyes.
Well — yes. It IS incredible, in context.
Dropping a kei truck into a horse-cart logistics economy is a minor distribution revolution all by itself.
Granted, a kei truck is still just a kei truck — and solar, so the horsepower is humble. But compared to human- or horse-drawn carts? A different order of magnitude entirely.
And above all: the SPEED.
“Though for the record — it’s not me that’s amazing. It’s Made in Japan.”
I muttered it with a wry smile…
”…And the Money-Grubbing God, for the solar conversion. Credit where due.”
On this one occasion — and this one occasion only — my gratitude to the Money-Grubbing God was completely sincere.