Waking up was very refreshing, Vincent thought. When was the last time he woke up feeling so refreshed? He felt like he was in his twenties again!

Opening his eyes, memories slammed into Vincent like a semi-truck. Sitting up, he looked around. Next to him, trembling like a wet pup, was definitely not the person who saved him. In his hands was a vial of what looked like blood.

Looking down at himself, Vincent had about half of a single second to realize he was uninjured before he saw his unmoving savior. Vincent’s eyes widened as his breath caught.

“H-he tried giving you this… is he still breathing?”

Green eyes scoured the dark figure, seeing several wounds and many claw-marks in the man’s back.

“No. No, he—no!” Vincent scrambled up only to kneel, turning the man around hurriedly. Vincent quickly unzipped the armor and started on the chest, noting his savior was a she, not a he.

That was thoughts for another time. What was it again? To the sound of staying alive, right?

Ah, ah, ah, ah, staying alive—The song played on repeat in Vincent’s head, his bloody and messy hair violently jerking alongside him.

“Take off the helmet,” Vincent ordered.

Vincent had never been more grateful that he’d taken first responder classes before and remained certified throughout the years. At first, it had been for the children he’d planned to teach, just in case, and then it had been for Zach, who lived a dangerous life…

He was glad it was being used for someone who actually deserved it.

The man—what was his name?—reached out. There were buckles that his trembling fingers struggled with as Vincent continued pumping her heart.

Every so often he’d stop, taking her pulse, then continuing.

She wasn’t breathing, either.

The moment the helmet was removed Vincent reacted, plugging her nose and not hesitating as he gave her the kiss of life.

His first kiss. While he’d hoped it would be with a woman he’d spend the rest of his life with, giving it to the woman who saved his life was equally as good.

Her chest rose as his breath filled it, and he went back to giving her CPR.

“Is there any more of that healing liquid? Is there any around?” Vincent asked, voice trembling as much as the other man’s hands.

“U-um, let, let me check.”

Check? What did that mean? Did he not know? Was it the goblins that had the vials of liquid and not the two people inside?

Several minutes of CPR later, Vincent stopped, gasping for air. His body was coated in both blood and sweat, and he laughed as he took the time to look at his savior.

She had a healthy, if pale, skin tone and dark brown hair that almost looked black.

“You’re breathing again,” Vincent told the unconscious woman, a hand reaching out and caressing the side of her face, “Your heart is beating. You’re okay.”

For a long moment Vincent just sat there and felt her pulse. Hearing a gurgle put an end to that, though, and Vincent turned.

A goblin stood there, holding a staff about half Vincent’s height and slightly taller than it. Vincent stood up, moving out of the way of the moving light, following it with his eyes.

His gaze was fierce when it returned to the goblin. He stalked toward the goblin that was backing away, trying to chant something in its guttural language. His foot reached out, landing on the goblin’s shoulder. Shoving his foot forward, he watched as the goblin flailed and fell back, staff clattering away.

Stalking to the goblin, stepping on his wrists before he could do anything, he reached out. The staff wasn’t that sharp, but it was sharp enough, Vincent mused, eyes coldly brushing along its form.

Reaching up, the goblin gagged and gurgled, looking afraid. Vincent felt no mercy to a creature that had hurt his savior. His new weapon stabbed down.

The feeling of wood going through bone was odd. Vincent didn’t think that the wood was all that strong, he mused as he stood to his full height, a hand reaching up and running through his hair.

Bits and pieces of goblin fell out of his hair, and he grimaced. He took such good care of his hair, too. Hour-long hair-care routines daily. He’d have to wash it thoroughly once he escaped.

Vincent watched, surprised and a bit confused when the dead goblin beneath his feet turned to dust, leaving three things behind.

A white crystal, paper, and a red vial.

He knelt, grabbing the paper and the vial. Before he could turn back to his savior, something very surprising appeared in his gaze.

[Hello and welcome! Congratulations, you are the first {Human} on {designation: Earth} that has been awoken to The System by the {Drowwe}! Do you accept the terms stated in the contract on behalf of all humanity?]

Vincent glanced down at the paper, which had already dissolved in his hands, then back up at the floating screen of text. Was this a part of the magic?

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“Yes?” Vincent tried.

[Vincent K. Samson LV 1]

[Class: Monarch]

[Form: 5 Magic: 200]

[Skills:

Enslave LV 1, Scare LV 1

Command LV 1, Enchant LV 1

]

Vincent stared at the screen for a long moment, mourning the fact that he even had a class that made him sound like a rapist. Enslave? Enchant? Monarch?

What, was he supposed to live like a king? That was so… Argh!

Vincent was very glad when the screen disappeared, scowling as he stormed back to the woman. Kneeling, his expression lightened significantly as he uncapped the potion.

He was about to feed it to her before he hesitated.

What… what if she didn’t believe him? What if she wasn’t as kind and heroic as he thought she was?

Steeling himself, Vincent gave the woman the potion. The woman slowly sat up, eyes opening. Her dark gray gaze was sharp and piercing, focused as they scanned the area even as her tongue reached out and ran along her lips.

Her head moved back abruptly, eyebrows coming together as her nose scrunched, “Banana?”

Vincent felt instantly sheepish, “Oh, uh, yes, I, um…”

The woman turned her head, regarding him. He could see her expression relax, and if he were any more narcissistic, he would say she looked relieved to see him.

Swallowing, she allowed herself to collapse back, her eyes closing.

“Thank fuck,” She muttered, “I’d been really hoping you survived.”

Vincent swallowed thickly, staring at her intently. Her gaze shifted, and she reached out, dragging her helmet over.

He was almost disappointed when the woman put the helmet back on, hiding her hair and muffling her voice.

“I’m really glad you’re alive. Where’s Lawrence? Did he ever make an appearance?” The woman asked as she struggled to zip up her armor.

Vincent reached out without thought, helping her as he’d helped his cousins many times before.

Her hands dropped, and Vincent felt oddly vulnerable as she stared at him, her visor not reflecting a single thought of hers as she leaned back on her hands, waiting for him to finish.

Making quick, if careful, work of it, Vincent answered, “Yes, he’s the one who fed me the healing liquid.”

The woman stood up, stretching. Bare stretches of skin were shown, the scratches and scars gone where the talons had clawed.

“Yeah, the healing potion?” The woman said, turning to him and stretching out a hand, “So, what the hell brought you in here?”

Vincent’s heart pounded, not accepting the outstretched hand, “I was thrown in here after being accused of rape.”

Vincent waited for the hand to fall. For the woman to take a step back.

Spiting his expectations, she took a step forward, crouching. Vincent’s heart raced and he saw his eyes widen in her visor as she got awfully close. A chill ran down his spine.

“Did you?” She demanded. The way her voice was muffled only made the sharp, harsh tone more intimidating.

“Wh-what?” Vincent asked.

Of course she wasn’t going to be afraid of him, Vincent realized, breathing growing unsteady. She would kill him with her own hands. He was confident, and his hope faded. His eyes burned with tears.

“Did you rape anyone? Are the accusations true?”

“No,” Vincent said softly, knowing she wouldn’t believe him as he saw his expression crumple in the reflection. His gaze shifted away, looking down, “No, I didn’t rape anyone.”

The woman hummed, tilting her head and reaching out. Vincent’s heart spasmed when she grabbed him by the throat, but she just used her fingers to force him to look at her.

“Prove it.”

Vincent hesitated. Prove—How was he supposed to prove?!—“Y-you were my first kiss,” Vincent stuttered, “I’m still a virgin.”

The woman’s head tilted down, and Vincent thought she didn’t believe him for a moment. Thought that, like his not-very-good-friends, they thought he was flat-out lying.

Then she laughed. It was loud, boisterous, and full-bodied as she stood up. Taking a step back, she reached out her hand again.

“Yeah, you act like a virgin, too,” The woman agreed, “A bad-ass one, though, you did great killing those goblins. I can’t say much about Lawrence, but you seem like an alright guy.”

The woman believed him.

The burning in his eyes grew, and he started sobbing.

“Hey, hey,” The woman said softly, “Take my hand.”

Vincent did, pulled to his feet as a great feeling of peace filled him. Someone believed him. Someone believed him! He sobbed even as the woman held him, making comforting noises he’d never been on the receiving end of and holding him tightly.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay. It’s okay. I got you, I got you,” The woman—no, the angel, the beautiful reincarnation of pure hope and all things wonderful—comforted.

Vincent sobbed, not in sorrow, but in joy. No one had ever believed in him before.

Not when he went to the police because his aunt was trying to kill him, not when he cried in court, not when he was handed so many other allegations.

Vincent’s family didn’t believe him. The children he loved like they were his own didn’t believe him. Not a single one of his friends believed him.

His savior did. Not only did she save his life, but she believed in him so wholeheartedly to even allow him to hug her.

“You’re okay… you’re okay,” The woman comforted, “Not many people had to have believed you, huh? The justice system is fucked.”

“I… I didn’t get any jail-time, my lawyers were good enough, but…”

Vincent clutched at his savior, worried she would vanish. Worried she would pull away. Worried she wouldn’t continue comforting him like he had desperately wanted whenever he’d cried as a child.

“Publicity?” The woman guessed, “You must have gotten fired.”

“I, I got expelled, the first time,” Vincent agreed, “I wanted to be a schoolteacher.”

“Oh. That’s shitty,” The woman remarked casually, “But hey, there’s magic and powers now! Dungeons! There has to be some way of getting stronger. No way there isn’t.”

Vincent’s arms tightened. She didn’t know about The System? It made sense, it did say he was the first.

“Yeah.”

“See? Now you can get revenge. Maybe this is an extreme opinion, but anyone who makes false rape accusations deserves to be tortured and killed. I fucking hate people like that. If I ever met a girl that admitted to lying about being raped I’m fucking killing her myself. People like that are shitty.”

Vincent couldn’t respond, too busy hugging his savior and sobbing. Too busy being relieved that someone, someone, believed him. Too busy enjoying a matronly embrace that he’d never felt before.

The woman’s arms clung tighter to him, and her voice turned softer, “It’s okay, it’s okay. I’ll protect you. I’ll keep you safe. You’re okay, my man. I got you.”

It was then that Vincent swore his loyalty. Vincent would die for this woman. This beautiful angel descended directly from heaven. He would do everything in his power to ensure she stayed alive in this horrible reality.

Her voice was soft and gentle, the most comforting voice he’d ever heard as he cried in her embrace. Her reassuring murmurs engulfed him as he clung to her.

“I got you. You’re okay now.”