“Thank you for your purchase!”

Humming happily to myself, I lifted up my purchase for one final look before allowing it to drop into the thin plastic bag that the cashier handed me. It was the latest tankobon volume of a manga series I had been following for a while now. The manga chronicled the adventures of a samurai in the medieval period – the end of the warring states era, specifically, right before the Edo period began. It wasn’t exactly historically accurate, what with the characters executing outrageous techniques like energy blasts, manipulating fire, ice and other elements, and smashing craters onto the earth with brute force. Then again, I didn’t enjoy the manga for its historical accuracy – I found the absurd battles highly entertaining. The current volume had the samurai protagonist confront the enemy with his newest techniques after he had emerged from isolation training.

“The wait has been worth it!” I mumbled happily to myself, looking forward to the awesome battles. I had become a fan of the manga artist after his art style and fight choreography caught my eye a couple of years back. Having already read the weekly chapters in the magazine release, I already knew the outcome.

I also knew that this volume wouldn’t disappoint me.

Placing the manga into a pocket on my jacket, I stepped outside of the comfortably heated interior of the bookstore and shivered as the cool autumn wind blew from outside, the chilly air biting my cheeks. I closed my eyes in reflex as leaves were blown into my face, raising my right hand to shield myself.

And then everything changed.

“Run! Run!”

I blinked, my eyes unable to capture the blurry, moving images in front of me for just a moment. As my vision cleared, I saw that night had turned into day, the gray evening replaced by a bright, blue sky. The temperature remained pretty chilly, a contrast to the heated crowd of people running and screaming.

Somehow, there was a blue screen floating right in front of me.

Adamantium Will.

“What the hell is Adamantium Will?” I demanded, feeling a bit annoyed now. For some reason, the necromancer seemed all bark and no bite. “Don’t tell me it’s some special rule in a tabletop game that grants a bonus to Deny the Witch rolls, I’m not buying that.”

Fortunately, there was a description underneath the words that informed me what the term meant. I stared at it curiously.

Adamantium Will:

The ability to resist all sorts of control and mental manipulation

Okay. That sounded cool. But that didn’t explain what was going on, and why the people around me were running and screaming.

Wait...running and screaming? What was going on?

I looked around, trying to get my bearings, only to be astonished when I found that I was no longer in front of the bookstore. No, in fact, it didn’t seem like I was in Tokyo any longer. The row of urban buildings that was so reminiscent of metropolitan Tokyo was replaced by shabby, wooden houses, all on the verge of falling apart. The black, meticulously paved roads and traffic lights were gone, and in their place were trees growing sparsely in messily cobbled stone paths that could hardly be called roads. No, in fact, there was no road other than the thin stone paths that were used only by horse carriages that were fleeing past me. The humans were running on barren, sandy ground, huge portions of which still had grass.

Where the hell am I?

“What are you doing?!”

One of the running figures shouted at me. Glancing at him, I did another double take. Unlike me, he was dressed in a simple tunic that didn’t resemble modern fashion at all. If I had to say, most people were dressed in weird, old-fashioned styled Western clothing that wouldn’t look out of place in a period piece of medieval Europe, or a cosplay convention with a similar theme. Furthermore, unlike the black-haired population I was so used to, the villagers had startling displays of varied hair colors, from blond to light brown to a dark, almost black shade. There were also red hair and stuff, and their skin color was a lot paler than mine.

Did I just get transported into a medieval European village or something?

That speculation was smashed almost immediately when I heard a thunderous roar. Glancing in the direction of the monstrous bellow, I understood why the villager told me to run. A grotesque, nightmarish monster was rampaging through the village, demolishing houses with its swollen, bloated body, crushing the wood into splinters. Spiked appendages flailed about, writhing angrily as they sought for targets. In front of my eyes, a single fleeing villager was impaled by the scythe-like claw that tipped those bulky tentacles, blood spurting from his abdomen as he was helplessly lifted off the ground and ripped apart.

Countless eyes opened on the monster’s body, bloodshot orbs that spun around wildly sometimes before stopping to fix those insidious gazes on the running humans. The gruesome visage made me want to puke.

“It’s a demon! A monster!”

“Run!”

“Get out of here!”

“Where are the knights?! Where are the crusaders?”

“Oh, gods, please save us…”

The screams and pleas of the villagers mingled with the roars of the monstrosity as it shifted its bulk to smash through more houses and snag more villagers, slicing off arms and cleaving them cleanly. One of the broken bodies landed near me, nonchalantly flung from the raging beast, and a claw-tipped tentacle lashed out in my direction. Panicking, I dove to the ground as the scythe slashed through the air where my head had been. If I had remained standing, I would be missing my head right now. That certainly wasn’t a good way to get ahead of the monster.

Instead, the tentacle ended up slashing another villager, who had just run past me. Screaming, the man sagged as his throat was ripped open, the blood spurting from his torn carotid artery and jugular vein like geysers. Blood splattered across my face, the warm fluid shocking me into movement. Scrambling back to my feet, I began weaving my way through the carnage, seeking for a way out of this slaughter. I had no idea what was happening, how I got here, or where this place was. It didn’t matter – my first priority was to get through this massacre alive.

One thing was for sure – this wasn’t medieval Europe. I had never heard of monstrous black demons rampaging around rural villages in non-fiction history books. Glancing back, I saw that the blob-like demon had closed in with a speed that belied its size, its swollen black bulk rolling over grass and stone alike. More villagers fell victim to the bellowing beast as its appendages reached out to them with deadly intent, piercing through their bodies hungrily.

I was mired in disbelief, my mind numb as I witnessed the massacre taking place in front of my eyes. I was surprised that I wasn’t nauseous, frightened or even angry at the wanton loss of life. No, I was just numb – immersed in cold, mind-numbing disbelief. It was as if whatever was taking place around me wasn’t real, like I was just a spectator dropped in the middle of a virtual reality simulation, participating in a horror game.

Maybe that was what it was. A virtual reality simulation. Though how I ended up in a simulation right after I walked out of my frequently patronized bookstore was a complete mystery. Well, in any case, I should concentrate on escaping this horror before I began searching for answers.

A horrifying shriek erupted from behind me. Twisting around, I froze when I saw a clawed tentacle lunging straight at me. Snapping out of my stupor, I tried to dive out of the way, but I was too late.

The scythe-shaped claw plunged into my chest before the appendage lifted me up and threw me across the village from the impact. Red-hot agony ignited in my chest, and I began to suffocate as I drowned in my own blood, the red fluid pouring relentlessly into my torn lungs. Scrabbling desperately at my wound with my hands, I panicked when I felt so much blood…so much blood leaking from a massive, gaping hole. Breathing hurts…it hurts to breathe, it hurts it hurts it hurts!

“Ah…ah…ugh!”

I stared at the sky, dimly aware that my glasses – broken from the impact of being thrown – were slipping off my face. My view of the blue sky and white, fluffy clouds turned blurry, the edges of my vision slowly darkening. Around me, the ravenous roar of the demon and the terrified screams of the villagers grew softer, slowly fading away, as if they were all moving into the distance. The excruciating pain in my chest grew, a sharp blade digging into my heart and lungs. I couldn’t breathe any longer, it hurt too much, and my lungs were filled with too much blood anyway.

I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die.

Was that it? Was I going to die here, my seventeen years of life ended in some village, killed by an unbelievable monster that should by right appear only in fiction?

Damn it…I couldn’t hold on any longer. The pain was way beyond anything I could endure. I felt nothing but regret, pain, and fury, anger that my life would end in such a stupid, unfair manner. Even as I raged against the unfairness of it all, I could feel my mind and body shutting down. It was just as well. I wanted the pain to go away. It didn’t matter how; I would do anything to make the pain go away.

Ah, there it is. As my breathing stopped and my body grew colder, the pain eased away at last. Feeling relieved, I relaxed and closed my eyes, allowing the darkness to take me into its cold, icy embrace.

My last thought, surprisingly, was a humorous one. As I slipped away into death, I couldn’t help but wonder to myself.

Wait, I thought I was supposed to die before I reincarnate in another world, not after I arrive in one?

*

“Rise… rise! Rise!”

“Gah!”

Screaming briefly, I sat up, my voice dying in my throat as I clawed at the air. Gasping, I sat up, my eyes flying wide open as I stared up at the dark night sky. Blinking, I stared blankly at the stars for a moment, not knowing what was going on.

Flinching, I clutched my head as I tried to remember what had happened. Yes, I was impaled by a freaking demon’s tentacle and suffered a grievous, fatal wound. I was drowning in my own blood and supposedly died. I was pretty sure I died. At least I could take comfort in the fact that I wasn’t raped. I mean, what with tentacles and all…

Yet I couldn’t remember what happened after that. My memory between then and now was a complete blank, but I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something terrible had happened. Be it the terrifying isolation in a dark tunnel, the fiery agony in the depths of hell, or the cold oblivion in a merciless void, I just knew I had been through a terrifying experience – something I never wanted to go through ever again. My mind must have shut down and my memories locked away as some sort of defense mechanism to preserve my sanity from such horrors, and even though I couldn’t remember any details, I shuddered involuntarily from just thinking about it.

I never wanted to go back to that place ever again. Never.

“Rise… rise!”

The annoying, low-pitched voice grated on my nerves. Geez, I get it already. How annoying. You don’t have to repeat yourself. Looking around in puzzlement and irritation, I stood up and stretched with a groan, then winced, waiting for the pain to hit me.

Nothing happened.

Eh? What?

Blinking in surprise, I felt my chest. The injury was almost gone now – the bleeding had stopped long ago. There was little trace of the mortal wound I had sustained, save for a thin, white scar that stretched across my chest. And even that scar was rapidly disappearing, receding as the epidermis was replaced by a new layer of dead tissue beneath.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

My torn clothes remained ripped, though, my jacket and shirt still bearing traces of the holes where the claw had gouged in them. Proof that that injury wasn’t a dream.

But how did my wound heal so quickly…?

“Rise! Rise, my minions. Heed my call.”

Shaking my head in confusion, I turned to look at the man who had been muttering the whole time. At a distance, there was a pale man in purple and red robes, holding a staff and raising both his hands high into the night sky. At some point when I was unconscious, day had turned into night. That wasn’t a surprise – judging from the lack of roars and the fact I wasn’t attacked when I stood up, the monster had seemed to disappear long ago. The village where I found myself in after departing the bookstore was filled with bodies, the corpses of the poor villagers who were killed by the nightmarish creature. Or they were supposed to be corpses, but I watched in horrified fascination as one by one they rose to their feet jerkily, like puppets on a string, and shambled toward the crooning man in several neat rows. Male or female, child, adult, or elderly – it didn’t matter. The villagers were now standing side by side in an almost military formation, silent and uncomplaining before their new master.

The man himself almost seemed like a corpse – his pale skin was so white that under the bright moonlight he seemed bereft of blood. Blood-red markings of some weird, eerie design were etched across the purple fabric of his robes – just looking at them made me feel uneasy. I glanced at the corpses scattered around me – no matter how I looked at them, they were dead. Unmoving. Not breathing. Completely still.

Yet, by some unseen hand from above, they were lifted back to their feet and given unnatural life, obediently shuffling toward the man.

Studying him and the way the silent corpses were being reanimated and assembling in orderly formations without regard for their original faction, I could only come to a single conclusion.

This man was a necromancer.

“Oh boy.”

I didn’t know what to make of my current situation. Sure, the necromancer didn’t seem like the type to reanimate me for altruistic reasons, but the fact was that he did save me somehow…

Wait, save me?

Feeling my face, I realized I wasn’t wearing my glasses. Yet I could see clearly, and without any artificial lighting at that. I didn’t have night-blindness, but I wasn’t sure I always possessed the ability to see clearly with little aiding my sense of sight other than the silvery rays of moonlight and distant starlight. Furthermore, even without my glasses, my vision was pretty sharp and crisp, a feeling I hadn’t gotten for ages, ever since I began suffering from myopia. Reaching out, I picked up my glasses and put them on again. Having worn glasses almost my whole life, I felt weird if I wasn’t with them. It was more to calm myself down than for viewing aid. The cracked lenses were impairing my vision, however, so I smashed them and flicked them out of the frame. Putting them back on, I stared out of the hollow frames with perfect vision.

This wasn’t just any normal healing. I didn’t know if this was the result of magic or whatever – but judging from the presence of the necromancer right in front of me reanimating corpses by waving his hands and a few words, it appeared that magic was the most likely possibility. Even then, it had to be incredible magic that could heal both my mortal wound and my myopia at the same time.

On the other hand, I had way too little information on my current whereabouts. I couldn’t even begin to guess how the magic in this world worked. Well, one way to find out was to ask the necromancer in front of me. Whatever his reasons, he did save me, so I should at least thank him for that. That said, I had this creepy feeling that I was saved in a completely different manner from what I was imagining. Looking at the zombies around me, I couldn’t help but wonder if I truly had been saved, or if I was reanimated as an undead.

But if I was a zombie, why wasn’t I following the necromancer’s orders as obediently as the walking corpses around me? How was I still able to maintain my personality and individuality as if I was still living?

Well, scratching my head over these difficult questions wouldn’t get me any answers. The most effective way was to ask the man in question – the necromancer himself. To be honest, his solitary figure in front of the massed ranks of undead struck more than a little fear into my heart and plenty of trepidation, but I had to start from somewhere.

“Um, excuse me.”

I spoke up politely as I approached the necromancer. For some reason, even if he didn’t look Japanese and the terrain didn’t look like anywhere I knew in Japan – if anything, I was more inclined to think that I was in medieval Europe, but the existence of a demon just didn’t add up – his words sounded distinctly Japanese to me, even if it had some thick accent.

The necromancer whirled around so quickly he almost fell over. An expression of shock flooded his face as he stared at me, dumbfounded.

“Um, well, thank you for helping me,” I said rather hastily before he could react violently. Bowing my head slightly to emphasize that I meant no harm and was merely displaying my gratitude, I waited for a beat before launching my inquiry. “I appear to be a bit lost, and I was wondering if you could tell me where I am…”

“You…!” the necromancer’s voice harshly cut me off, fury bubbling in his tone. The guy wasn’t paying any attention to me at all. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to approach him after all. “How is this possible? How can a zombie retain its personality and memories?”

“Zombie…?”

Ah. I see. I can’t say I was very surprised. My rate of recovery was far beyond anything I could imagine, surpassing beyond the stereotypical healing spells of typical fantasy light novels. It could be said to be on the level of godlike. I wasn’t sure how long I was dead, but…judging from the lack of decay on my fellow zombies, it most likely hadn’t been very long. A day at most? Scavengers had yet to come and pick off at our flesh, after all.

For me to be fully healed in such a short window was nothing short of miraculous. Of course, there was the possibility that such godlike magic was considered normal in this particular world, but it wasn’t out of expectations that such convenient settings did not exist.

“This cannot be happening. This cannot be possible. My ritual was perfect! Such an abomination shouldn’t exist…!”

“Abomination? Hey, now that’s rude…”

Ignoring my protest, the necromancer cast his hand out, chanting something. A dark wave of energy blasted out and shrouded me. I recoiled instinctively, expecting to be obliterated in an instant…but nothing happened.

“Eh?”

I cocked my head as I watched the dark shadow that was trying to engulf me dissipate after a few seconds. What the hell was that supposed to do? Blinking in bafflement, I glanced back at the necromancer, who looked just as perplexed as me.

Then I suddenly remembered.

Adamantium Will. The ability to resist any sort of mind control. So that’s why the necromancer wasn’t able to control me.

“Hmm, looks like I've got a special ability. I wonder if I can use magic as well.”

I conjured up the blue table, but other than Adamantium Will, it was blank. Oh, there was something.

Species: Zombie.

The f…? I’m a zombie now?

So what does a zombie do? Can I perform necromancy as well?

Shrugging, I tested out my fingers and body. Nope, no change. I tried to conjure up some of that fancy magical energy the necromancer just tossed on me, but no luck with that either. Either I had no idea how to use magic or I didn’t have the ability at all.

“Dangerous…a disobedient undead is dangerous.” The necromancer was paying absolutely no attention to me at all. Chattering, he was biting his fingers, his mushroom-haired head bobbing up and down in despair. “This abomination cannot be allowed to exist!”

“Huh?” I felt a chill at that last statement from the necromancer. That didn’t sound good at all. Gulping, I began to back away, but it was too late. I was completely surrounded, hemmed in by a ring of zombies. Looking around and seeing that there was no path of escape, I turned back to the necromancer with both my hands raised. “Um, look, I mean no harm. I’m sure we can talk this out, right? We can just both go our separate ways…”

“Kill him.”

The necromancer’s command was final. The bastard had no intention of listening to me at all. At his order, the zombies lunged at me as one, their rigid movements belying their grace and incredible speed. I tried to dodge, but I wasn’t able to evade in time. The mass of bodies struck me, knocking me over and pinning me to the ground. I struggled desperately, but the zombies climbed all over me, moaning and slavering.

One of them bent down and bit a huge chunk of flesh off my neck.

“Ah…aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

A scream of agony tore itself from my throat. Flailing in both pain and despair, I kicked and writhed, but the weight of zombies held me down. Another bent and bit my arm. I could feel a couple more chewing on my leg. Gritting my teeth, I kicked them, but their jaws were firmly lodged into my muscle, causing excruciating agony that caused tears in my eyes.

What the hell? Even if I’m a zombie, an undead, why am I able to feel so much pain?!

“Aaaaaaaaah! Get off me! Get off!”

“Feast yourselves, my precious minions. Make sure not even one shred of flesh remains.”

Over the din of moaning and chewing, the necromancer was beside himself in glee, watching my demise triumphantly. His hands clasped behind his back, he watched the gruesome spectacle like a father happily witnessing the growth of his children.

“No… noooo!”

I struggled and fought back defiantly. The reality that I was going to die a second time hit me, and hit me really hard. The ice-cold fear clenched my heart tightly in a warning grip, reminding me of the unspeakable terror that awaited me should I fall back into the depths of death.

No! I never want to go back to that place ever again! Never!

Kicking and lashing out, I screamed as I felt my leg being torn off. Another zombie gnawed off my left arm, biting through the bone. I jerked violently, from reflex, and watched in horror as the offending undead ripped my arm off.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

Blood spurted all over the place as the zombie fell back. Cradling my severed arm in his embrace, he began chewing on it.

Breathing heavily, and almost blacking out from the pain, I bit my lip so hard I could taste my blood flooding into my mouth. I couldn’t black out here. I couldn’t. I had to fight back. I was never going back to that place ever again.

“Hah, hah…”

With a force of will, I head-butted the nearest zombie, causing him to fall back and into his comrades. Kicking out as hard as I could, I managed to dislodge the zombie that was biting firmly into my left angle, hurling him away.

But at a cost. A huge chunk of my ankle went with him. Wailing in pain, I clenched my teeth and forced myself to endure it. Crawling to my feet, I found that I couldn’t stand. That bite must have torn my tendons or something.

“What are you doing? Hurry and kill him!” The necromancer hissed above, gesturing wildly with both arms. At his voice, the zombies clambered back to their feet and shambled after me, their eyes still hollow but somehow ravenous at the same time.

Bloody bastard…

Swiveling my head, I glared at him, bitterness filling my heart. Was I brought back from the dead just to die again? Like this, pathetically, eaten by other undead? Would I be sent back into that terrifying abyss so traumatizing my mind refused to remember the experience?

“Don’t screw with me…”

I wasn’t going to die like this. I wasn’t going to die in a place like this.

Reaching out with my right hand, I inched my way toward the necromancer. The pale man probably didn’t recognize my intentions, thinking that I was trying to get away from his zombies. Or he had full confidence in his zombies to capture and kill me before I could do anything. It didn’t matter. As long as he stood still and remained where he was, I stood a chance of victory.

This was probably the only way I could get out of this. If the necromancer was the one controlling the zombies, then I just had to get rid of him first before his zombies pounced on me. With a tremendous effort, I kicked off on my good leg and hurled myself off the ground. The necromancer’s deep-set and bloodshot eyes widened when I barreled right into him. He was as thin and frail as he looked – even someone as light as me could topple him over with a well-timed tackle.

“You! Get off me!”

I punched him in the face with my one good hand. The necromancer flailed about, smacking me with his staff and sending me sprawling on the ground. Rising to his feet, he shouted to his zombies.

“Kill him! Kill him right now!”

Even when winded, I felt the surge of adrenaline run through my undead system. Shaking off the white sparks that flew about my eyes from the strike, I pounced on the necromancer again. This time, he tried to ward me off with his staff, but I grabbed his arm with my right hand and shoved it back. The both of us crashed down in a tangle of limbs.

“Hurry, you fools! Get him off me right this instance!”

With my left arm torn off, and my right hand preoccupied with keeping his staff at bay, I had little weapons left. Moving up my good leg, I placed a knee squarely on his groin, crushing his you-know-what into the ground. The necromancer let out a high-pitched wail that was in contrast with the low voice that he had been using all this while.

But I wasn’t done. I could hear the pattering of the zombies’ feet as they moved toward me. Damn, but from the sound of it, they moved fast! I had to take decisive action and finish this before they caught me and rip me off from the necromancer. Unfortunately, I had nothing else to fight with. If only I still had my arm…

No…wait. I still had one other weapon.

Lowering my head, I sank my teeth into the shocked necromancer’s throat and bit down hard. Closing my eyes and suppressing revulsion, I yanked my head back as hard as I could, tearing off a huge chunk of flesh and splashing blood all over my face.

“Argh! Ugh!”

With his left hand, the necromancer tried to press against his bleeding throat. It was of little effect. I had bit off both his jugular vein and carotid artery. Now, even if his zombies killed me, he would bleed to death.

But I wasn’t going to let his zombies kill me. Not yet. With a determined roar, I bit out another lump of flesh from the other side of his throat, eliciting another cry of pain. Raising my head, I licked the necromancer’s blood off my lips, realizing vaguely that the red fluid tasted surprisingly sweet.

Oh, and for some reason, I was hungry. Very hungry. I didn’t notice it before, but now that the necromancer was helplessly pinned beneath me, he looked very…delicious.

I was going crazy. Crazy with hunger, crazy from being shoved near the verge of death, or crazy from being thrown into an insane situation. Whatever. I wasn’t thinking straight right now – the hunger was driving me crazy. I would probably regret this later when I sobered, but right now I didn’t care about anything other than relieving that burning vacuum in my stomach.

“You tried to feed me to your zombies,” I told the terrified, weakening necromancer, lowering my mouth to take another bite of his flesh. Behind me, the zombies seemed to have stopped moving. The life force of the necromancer was ailing, as was his unnatural magic. As he weakened, the blood leaking from his body, so did his grip on the dead.

Good. I could slowly enjoy my meal then. Smiling, I swallowed the bloody lump of flesh in my mouth before reaching for more.

“So it can’t be helped if I feed on you… right?”