As the creatures around me continued to slink nearer, I took a few moments to consider the options available to me. While their intent was obviously hostile that didn’t mean that they were in the wrong in this situation. This was obviously their home, which made me an intruder. That made me reluctant to engage in violence.

Hadn’t I personally just fought a vicious battle against human encroachment upon my own domain? I’d be an absolute hypocrite if I attacked first without attempting to offer an explanation for my presence in their lair, not that I had one to give.

All the same, I decided to be a good guest and attempt the path of diplomacy. I didn’t need to do it. I chose to. Forget super speed and strength, what truly made for a superior vampire were their excellent manners!

So, I dusted myself off, pretended I wasn’t stark naked and cleared my throat to speak. Then I said, “Greetings my dear hosts. I’m dreadfully sorry for appearing suddenly in your home, sans clothing and invitation! It’s a long story for which even I am ignorant of all the pertinent details!”

The creatures that surrounded me paused. Were they listening to my words or merely curious about why I was speaking to them so fearlessly? I would soon find out.

“Please let me introduce myself,” I continued. “My name is Lord—er, that is to say, Mister Kyler Stragos. I’m an unassuming gentleman from the distant realm of…Canada, here for reasons currently unknown to me and I’m afraid that I’m woefully ignorant of your local Yankee customs! Am I being understood? I don’t suppose any of you speak the Queen’s tongue? Or is it the King’s tongue, now? Wait, do any of you know if England still exists, and if not, did it at least outlast Ireland? I’d feel awful if Ireland survived the plague of undeath longer than England.”

That didn’t get a response either, but I continued anyway, now growing annoyed by my own memory of a certain event.

“I know survival during the apocalypse isn’t a competition, but an otherwise charming Irish lass from Longford County once spat in my potato soup while I was eating it, and I’ve never been able to let that go. I mean, really, who just does that? She maintained eye contact while doing so as well! She didn’t even have red hair! I thought the gingers were the ones to watch out for, but no, as it turns out the brunettes are just as keen to snap at you!”

Now I was feeling very upset.

“When I demanded an explanation for her behavior, she said it was my fault for invading her pub. I said, invading? They had a sign outside that said open for business! Then she pointed at the football jersey I was wearing. I told her I didn’t follow the sport; I was just dressing comfortably! But instead of ceding my point like a functioning adult, she called me a tourist gobshite! I would have torn her head off on the spot but first I needed to look up what gobshite meant because it was really confusing me, and the definition wasn’t in my copy of Cambridge’s! By the time I found my answer and returned to destroy her, she’d already scarpered. I transformed a few of the other locals into my lesser kin and commanded them to hunt her down but they never got back to me. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if she turned out to be some manner of bog witch and was too much for them to handle. I must say that whole unsavory experience has soured me on that entire island. Can you blame me, though? What do you think?”

Instead of giving me a reply, one of the creatures gave a howl of bloodlust and launched itself at me with its filthy clawed hands outstretched.

Hmm. Now that they were closer to me, my newly human nose had finally registered the scent of these things. If I were still a vampire, I’d have noticed far earlier that these creatures smelled extremely unpleasant. It was as though they’d never been introduced to the concept of a bath. It was a horrendous sort of caked-on stench that can only be built with months of dedicated living in utter squalor.

The first thing I decided was that I didn’t want any of them touching me. Nor did I want to touch them myself. Who knew what manner of infectious germ was nesting within their uncleanly flesh? Regaining my humanity only to lose my life to some malignant infection wouldn’t do at all. That meant avoiding contact with them, which was easy enough to do. My new body was immature, but it possessed a small level of athletic conditioning. Avoiding the fiend’s clumsy strike was as easy as stepping to the side and letting him collide with one of his comrades.

[Goblin 01 has missed!] said a line of blue text which appeared from nowhere.

What? Where had that come from? And is that what these creatures were called? Goblins? Like the creatures of myth and fantasy? It was a name that suited these unseemly beasts. How strange to see them in the flesh, though. If you’d told me that beings such as this existed, I would have mocked you for being deluded.

That just showed that a mere thousand-year lifespan was far too short to learn anything truly interesting about the world. I must take steps to avoid becoming arrogant.

Now I hopped backward, scanning the ground for anything I could arm myself with. By happy fortune, I spotted a spear nearby, not far from where I’d originally awakened. Scooping it up quickly, I pointed it towards my attackers and warned them to stay back. A warning which they promptly ignored.

Adrenalin then flooded throughout my new body which caused my heart to hammer in my chest and my breathing to become shallow and rapid. Heh, if I remember correctly, this was the fight or flight effect.

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Wow, that really took me back.

It only took a few deep breaths to get myself settled once more. Fighting may have been a new experience for this body, but I was an old, old hat at it. Aesthetic monks had figured out long ago that the secret to controlling your body’s urge to panic during an emergency, was to simply ignore it and keep going about your business. Ignoring pressing issues was something that came easily to people like me.

It was a shame that my attempt at diplomacy had failed. How sad it felt to christen my newly regained life with the blood of an enemy so soon after my miraculous return to mortality. I didn’t want to kill these people, but my peaceful intentions were either blocked by an insurmountable language barrier, or they were simply too hostile to be reasoned with. In such a situation, it truly was kill or be killed. And since death had been my primary state of being for well over a thousand years, I was in no hurry to return to it.

The spear felt good in my hands. Although in the past I’d fancied myself something of a gentleman swordsman, I had experience wielding a lance and pike that transferred easily to this weapon. With one sure-footed thrust, I plunged the spear into my first assailant’s forehead and buried the tip in the center of his brain. I’d been aiming for his eye, but he tried to duck at the last moment. Oh, well, this worked too.

For some reason, the number fifty-five floated above my victim’s head. Then another message like that from earlier flashed before my eyes. In bright large text, it said:

[You inflict 55 points of damage on Goblin Assailant 01. 55 damage from 50 health points deducted. You have fatally injured Goblin Assailant 01! Five points of overkill damage recorded.]

[Goblin Assailant 01 has died. You have gained 25 experience points.]

Oh, I didn’t like this at all! It was so distracting! While my focus was off, another…goblin, wasn’t it? Another goblin, this one wielding a rust-encrusted sword, tried to bring it down on my head which I narrowly managed to avoid. In reprisal, I pulled my spear free from the first goblin’s head and swept it across the back of my new opponent’s ankle, lopping his foot off at the joint.

[Goblin Assailant 02 has taken 25 points of damage. Goblin Assailant 02 has been inflicted with the status effect: Bleeding. Goblin Assailant 02 has suffered 10 points of bleeding damage.]

Now that was surprising! I’d meant only to try and hamstring the oaf. Just how sharp was the blade of this spear? And why did it feel so strangely familiar in my hands? It was as though I’d held it before.

Still, that could wait for now. I was still fighting for my life, after all. A fight that was being hampered by this silly blue screen! By the shadow, all this pointless information appearing before me wasn’t helpful in the slightest! The second goblin was bleeding, was he? I had a pair of eyes that could already tell me that! And these floating damage indicators served no purpose either. Centuries of practical experience were enough to inform me when I’d delivered a good, fatal hit to a foe.

As I clashed with the third goblin while attempting to keep the other one from circling behind me, I couldn’t help but feel frustrated. “Please get out of my face!” I yelled. The goblin before me blinked in confusion. “Not you, imbecile!” I snarled. “Floating screen before me, would you please clear my vision! You’re making it very difficult to focus!”

[Would User Kyler Evans like to temporarily disable Combat Text?]

The screen had answered me. It could listen!

“Yes!” I said immediately. “Yes, I would!”

[Combat Text disabled.]

And with that, the numbers and messages vanished from view, leaving my vision unimpaired. With my eyes now wonderfully cleared of all that senseless clutter, I was free to give my full attention to the fight, which I promptly won after rolling out of the way of the fourth goblin’s attempted back stab which caused him to impale his friend. While the pair of them stared at each other in shock, I proceeded to pierce them both with a backstab of my own.

Ah, satisfying.

With them taken care of, that left only the one I’d already hobbled. The silly thing had been attempting to drag himself away, leaving a trail of streaking blood behind him. As I made my way to his position, he saw me and suddenly let out a pained gasp before falling still.

Unsure if he was truly dead or attempting to deceive me, I reluctantly called forth the blue screen. “Has he truly perished?” I asked.

[Goblin Assailant 02 has died. You have gained 25 experience points.]

“Wonderful,” I said with genuine pleasure. Then I thought over those words for a moment and asked, “What is an experience point?”

[The means by which your battle experience is measured to assist you in acquiring a new level that will increase the power of your Job Class.]

“Ah. So, you’ve assigned a numerical value to combat that’s capable of being remotely monitored, and the more of it I gain, the more powerful I’ll gradually become?”

[Correct.]

“So, I gain experience points to acquire levels and levels to acquire power?”

[Correct.]

“Why?”

[…Why?]

“Yes, why? What’s the point? I was already far more powerful before. Why do I have to start over at zero?”

[ You are mistaken.]

“Come again?” I asked, surprised by the screen’s cheek. “If experience correlates to power, I have a thousand years of it! By rights, I should be a bloody demigod compared to this…what am I? What is my job class? I assume that’s the role I’ve been assigned in this bizarre system?”

[Correct. Your Job Class is Porter. Level 1.]

“Excuse me?”

[Your Job Class is Porter. Level 1.]

“Does porter in this place mean something other than the word I’m thinking of?” I asked the screen carefully.

[How does User Kyler Evans define it?]

“The bloody help who carries the luggage.”

[Your assessment is correct. A Porter is a support class with a storage skill who assists the party by collecting the carcasses, money, weaponry, and other valuable items of defeated monsters.]

“No,” I said firmly.

[No?]

“No,” I repeated. “Absolutely incorrect. Have you gone mad? I’m Kyler Stragos, the Lord of Blood. I’m one of the four most powerful beings on the damned planet. I do not carry the luggage!”

[User Kyler Evans is mistaken.]

“I very much am not,” I said, now feeling slightly offended.

[User Kyler Evans may not exchange his Job Class for another.]

“Are you absolutely certain of that?” I asked.

[Quite.]

Well, well, well. It seemed the screen was feeling a bit full of itself. Well, so be it. I had another question for it to answer.

“How foolish would you feel right now if I told you that I am not Kyler Evans? That you’ve mistaken me for someone else entirely and assigned me an inappropriate class?”

[…What?]

“Yes, that’s what I thought you'd say,” I said with more than a little smug satisfaction.