“Is this appearance acceptable to you, Jonathan?” the creature rumbled, its voice echoing with a depth that shook the air.

  “N-no… c-can you go back to the old one?”

  The devil stared him down. “You failed, Jonathan. You were supposed to kill that Luke.”

  As the creature closed in, Jonathan kept retreating. His mind spun in panic, scrambling for any way out, but there wasn’t one.

  “I… I tried.”

  “Tried?” The creature’s voice was calm, yet simmering with irritation. “After I helped you find a sword infused with disease, gave you a familiar, and even a class mutation.”

  It looked at him with contempt. “And still you failed, even with everything handed to you.”

  The creature snorted like an enraged bull. “Such a pitiful fool. You were easily subdued by a dying human with barely a sliver of HP. What do you have left, Jonathan? Other than being an even more insignificant worm. That’s your fate now, crawling through the filth of your own rot.”

  Jonathan felt like he was peeing his pants.

  

  Slowly the monster began to warp, shrinking until it took the shape of a man with black hair, a goatee, obsidian horns curling from his head, and eyes like a serpent’s. “The mistake was mine, Jonathan. For thinking someone like you had value. That someone weak and pathetic could surpass that Luke. And even against a frail human, you still managed to lose.”

  Jonathan’s fist tightened, but he didn’t dare speak.

  “Are you… going to take my soul?”

  “Your soul, Jonathan?” the figure said as he settled onto his throne. “And why would I want the soul of a loser?”

  He pointed a finger at Jonathan, and a scroll materialized before him. “I’m a Guide. I’m here to help you with the post tutorial phase. This scroll explains everything. Good luck.”

  Jonathan began reading, his body still trembling whenever he glanced at the demon. He was convinced he’d pissed himself, though he didn’t feel anything wet. As he read, he understood: this place was a dream. That explained why he wasn’t actually soaked.

  He didn’t ask anything else. The scroll laid out everything, from the gods’ invitations to the way he could access a shop.

  In the past, Jonathan had earned the class mutation Plague Mercenary, but when he reached level fifty, he switched to Bounty Hunter, abandoning the path of the Blight order. All for a single goal.

  [Blight has invited you to a conversation.]

  More notifications appeared, one after another.

  “It’s up to you, Jonathan. Choose a god to speak with, or deal with everything on your own with me,” the demon said, his tapping fingers on the throne betraying his impatience.

  “I’ll… choose a god,” Jonathan replied.

  Among all of them, there was one he wanted to speak to. Not about the tutorial’s reward shop; he doubted it held what he sought. He wanted a true path to power. Something that would make him lethal in battle. And of everything he’d gained in the tutorial, items, weapons, skills, there was one thing he valued above all.

  The god emerged through a doorway, a monstrous humanoid creature. Just looking at it sent a chill down Jonathan’s spine. He felt like the being could kill him with a glance. And that was exactly the kind of power he wanted.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Who would’ve thought I’d run into you here, Vampire God King,” the demon remarked.

  ***

  Charlie had fallen asleep against Luke’s shoulder. That was new for them. It was the first time she had ever slept. She could drift off the same way he could use Meditation; the vampire slipped into something close to hibernation and recovered stamina and mana far faster.

  Is that why they always slept in coffins in the movies?

  Luke glanced at Charlie’s Blood Core.

  [Blood Core: 19/100]

  It had dropped by one point. He did the math. Ever since she’d fed, she’d spent more than three hours outside his soul. Between breakfast and dozing on the bus beside him, that meant…

  Charlie burned eight to ten Blood Energy a day just to maintain her Vampiric Hunger, without using a single skill.

  That was a lot. Way more than he’d expected. He’d hoped she would spend maybe one point a day, which would give her twenty days without needing to feed. Learning that those twenty points barely lasted two days forced him to rethink everything.

  I can be Charlie’s blood bank for now, but long term I’ll lose more HP than I can regenerate. I don’t have a choice. I have to use the greenhouse for plants that go into healing potions.

  If he was Charlie’s blood bank, then potions would have to become his HP bank.

  Charlie wouldn’t die instantly when her Vampiric Hunger started shredding her HP. But she would lose her reason, and when she finally died, she’d retreat back into his soul. Once it recovered, she would respawn with only one HP, since an E rank servant couldn’t regenerate anything except the soul. She would always return at one HP, completely feral. And if she came back starving, the Hunger would kill her again on its own.

  So he had to keep her Blood Core full. Always.

  I still have to go back to the New World and find a way to get strong enough to defeat the dragon queen. But maybe I can manage it if I can always teleport back home to Maine.

  He planned to anchor a portal in his bedroom. All he needed was a safe place in the New World where the second circle wouldn’t get destroyed. Then he could jump back and forth whenever he needed.

  Assassin and Witch. That’s going to be an interesting mix. What kind of Witch skills am I even going to get?

  ***

  Luke walked down his familiar street. Kids pedaled their bikes along the road, laughing as they swerved around each other. He wore more modern clothes now, and he was alone. Charlie lingered quietly somewhere deep in his soul.

  An elderly woman was sweeping leaves off the sidewalk.

  “Good morning, Rosa,” Luke said, greeting his neighbor.

  “Good morn—” She froze mid word, mouth hanging open as the broom slipped from her hands and clattered to the ground.

  “L-Luke Moon?” she whispered.

  “Of course. Your problematic neighbor, the one who used to TP your house on Halloween, has returned from the dead,” he said.

  For some reason, Rosa immediately started making frantic cross signs with her hands.

  “Jesus,” she muttered, beginning to pray.

  Luke blinked, completely lost.

  “The demon came to torment me in the shape of that troublesome boy,” she said, thrusting her crucifix necklace toward him. “Go back to where you came from!”

  “Rosa, it’s me. I’m really Luke Moon.”

  She backed away, trembling. “It’s not my time yet. It shouldn’t be one of you coming for me. It should be Jesus and the angels.”

  “You think I’m some kind of ghost?” He tried taking a step closer, but she stumbled into the fence, nearly falling. “I’m real.”

  “I went to your funeral, Luke Moon. I almost threw toilet paper at your casket. But I forgave you. You won’t fool me, demon!”

  Luke sighed and kept walking along the sidewalk, while she continued pointing the crucifix at him as if it were a loaded weapon.

  “Rosa, I’m seriously considering TP’ing your house right now,” he muttered with a laugh as he stepped into his yard.

  The closer he got to the house, the tighter his stomach twisted. Nervous didn’t even begin to describe it. He stopped at the old front door.

  Behind him, Rosa had already sprinted inside, muttering strange prayers under her breath.

  “Toilet paper?” Artemis asked.

  “Long story,” Luke replied.

  He pressed the doorbell. It felt heavier than it should, his finger trembling slightly as he pushed it in. The familiar chime echoed inside, and Luke stood there, waiting. He took a deep breath. His heart was racing.

  Footsteps approached on the other side. The door opened.

  A woman stood there, pale skin, dark hair, a naturally gentle face. His adoptive mother.

  “Clara…” Luke tried to sound steady, but failed. “I came home.”

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