As if something triggered by my awareness, a soft, blue light flickered in the air before me. It appeared into a semi-transparent screen, its design sleek and modern, utterly alien in this antique-rich room. It looked like a pop-up from a high-tech video game, hovering without any visible support.
My eyes, sharper than they had ever been, scanned the text.
Status:
· Life: Eternal
· Strength: 20 (Normal Human is 10)
· Speed: 20 (Normal Human is 10)
· Intelligence: 20 (Normal Human is 10)
· Snake Transformation: Become Full Snake. All stats multiplied by 10.
For a long moment, I just stared. My brain, now operating with a cool, analytical clarity I'd never known, processed the information.
Eternal.Never Ending.
And the numbers… I was twice as strong, twice as fast, and twice as smart as the peak of normal humanity. It was one thing to feel different; it was another to have cold, hard data confirming something more than a human. And that final ability… a multiplier of ten? That wasn't just power; that was like a final move of a Demon God.
A laugh bubbled up from my chest, sharp and giddy. It was a sound of pure, unadulterated triumph. The fear and confusion I'd felt upon waking in this world, the fear of knowing I was in Mystic Falls, evaporated like mist in the sun. With this… what did I have to fear from vampires or werewolves?
I couldn't hide the excitement and decided to test my new powers.
My gaze fell upon the four-poster bed. It was a monstrous thing, a behemoth of dark, carved wood and thick mattresses.Moving it would have been a strategic operation requiring four, maybe five people.
I walked over to it. My movements were fluid, completely silent. I didn't bother to brace myself or take a deep breath. I simply slid one hand underneath the solid wood frame, found a grip, and lifted.
The bed rose into the air.
Effortlessly.
There was no strain and tightening of my muscles. It was as if I were lifting a pillow. I held it there, my arm perfectly steady, and looked at the space where it had been. A surprising smile spread across my face. I set it down gently, the heavy thud it made feeling completely disproportionate to the zero effort I had expended.
Next: speed.
I was standing by the bed, near the large velvet-curtained window. My target was the heavy oak door on the far side of the spacious room. I didn't crouch down or get into a runner's stance. I just thought about being at the door.
The world dissolved into a smear of color. The rich hues of the oil paintings, the dark grain of the wood, the glint of the gold mirror—they all blended into a fleeting streak. There was no sensation of movement, no wind against my face. It was like blinking and changing locations. One instant I was by the window, the next I was standing directly in front of the door, my hand already resting on the cold brass knob. The entire journey had taken less than a heartbeat.
This was insane. This was…
Ding-dong.
The sound of the doorbell came but it hit my mind in another way.
The information surfaced in my mind instantly, pulled from the seamless pool of Alex Smith's memories. Alistair. The butler. Hired by his parents years ago. A man in his late fifties, fiercely loyal, impeccably formal, and a creature of perfect habit. His morning visit is as regular as the sunrise.
I could hear his quiet, measured footsteps retreating slightly on the marble floor of the foyer outside. He had rung once. According to the routine ingrained in my memories, he would wait precisely ten seconds before ringing a second time. For the old Alex, the one drowned in grief and depression, it often took three or even four rings to open the door.
But I was not that Alex anymore.
As I heard the faint rustle of his clothing, indicating he was raising his finger to press the button again, I moved. I didn't use the full, reality-blurring speed from my test, but I was still faster than any human could comprehend. My hand turned the knob silently, and I pulled the heavy, solid door open without a sound.
Alistair stood frozen in the hallway.
His finger was poised an inch from the doorbell, his entire body arrested in motion. He was exactly as my memories depicted: tall, lean, with silver hair combed back perfectly from a high forehead. He wore his usual dark, tailored suit, and in one hand, he held a small silver tray bearing a single, crisp white envelope.
His eyes, usually as calm and expressionless as a deep, still pond, were wide with pure, unvarnished shock. A tiny, almost imperceptible twitch disturbed his professionally neutral expression.
His surprise was not irrational. This broke a routine that had been the same for months. The Master Alex he knew was a ghost in this mansion, slow to rise, slow to respond, wrapped in a shroud of depression after his parents death. To have the door open not just after the first ring, but before the second, and with no warning sound of approaching footsteps… It was unprecedented. It was impossible.
I saw the gears turning in his head, the confusion behind his disciplined eyes. He was trying to reconcile the familiar face before him with this utterly alien behavior.
I met his gaze, my new features arranged in a calm, easy expression. The power humming within me made the confidence feel natural, unforced.
"Good morning, Alistair," I said, my voice even and smooth.
For a split second, he was at a loss for words, a state I suspected was exceedingly rare for him. Then, a lifetime of training and decorum slammed back into place. He lowered his hand smoothly, as if he had always intended to do so, and gave a slight, formal bow of his head.
"Good morning, Master Alex," he replied, his voice its usual measured baritone, though I could detect a new layer of wariness beneath its surface. "My apologies for disturbing you so early. There is a piece of registered mail that requires your signature."
His eyes did a quick, almost involuntary sweep over me, and I saw another flicker of confusion. He was noticing the changes—the radiance emitting from me, the confident posture that had replaced the usual slouch.
And as I stood there, accepting the silver tray, I knew the game had already begun.