The night air hit Mario.
One second he'd been yelling at his roommate through their cramped apartment's bathroom door "Dude, hold up! I gotta take a leak!" and the next, he was standing in some alley between two buildings, staring a dumpster.
"What the hell?"
He spun around, expecting to see the familiar chaos of their shared living space. Instead, his eyes met nothing but a damp brick wall. The bathroom door that had just been there?
Gone.
Vanished like it never existed.
He pressed his palms against the cold stone. Real enough. The overwhelming stench of piss and garbage that seemed to cling to every surface? Definitely real.
"This has got to be a dream. Or maybe I'm having a stroke."
But the urgent pressure in his bladder suggested otherwise. Dreams didn't usually come with biological needs this pressing.
He took a few steps back from the wall, nearly gagging as his brain registered what that dark stain running down the bricks actually was.
"Jesus Christ, who the hell pisses this high up a wall?"
The rational part of his mind, the part that had spent way too many hours reading web novels instead of studying, whispered the obvious answer: isekai bitch. Whatever you wanted to call it. One moment you're living your mundane life, the next you're dropped into some other world.
But rational didn't make it any less terrifying.
"Well, fuck it." He glanced around the empty alley. "If someone else can mark their territory here, so can I."
The relief was immediate, accompanied by that involuntary shiver that always came with a good piss. He was just zipping up when the screech of tires echoed off the alley walls.
A black van, the kind that screamed "nothing good happens when you see this vehicle," rolled to a stop near the alley. Two massive guys climbed out.
Mario's first thought, Cops?
His second thought, as the men started walking straight toward him with dead eyes and blank expressions: Oh shit.
These weren't cops. These guys moved like predators who'd found their prey.
"Look, if this is about the public urination thing, I can pay a fine or whatever—"
The words died in his throat as both men closed in fast.
His survival instincts, honed by years of navigating sketchy neighborhoods, finally kicked in. He feinted right, then broke left, trying to get around the closer one.
Almost made it too.
The guy was faster than his bulk suggested. One massive hand clamped down on Mario's shoulder, spinning him around. Mario responded the way he always had in fights, go for the feet.
He brought his heel down hard on the bastard's instep, putting all his weight behind it. The satisfying crunch of impact, followed by a grunt of pain, told him he'd connected.
For about half a second, he thought he might actually get away.
Then something sharp hit his neck. The world tilted sideways as whatever they'd injected hit his bloodstream.
"Son of a bitch..." The words slurred together as his knees gave out.
His last thought before the darkness took him was wondering if this was how horror movies always started, with some idiot getting grabbed in an alley because he had to pee.
---
Pain dragged Mario back to consciousness.
He forced his eyes open, immediately regretting it as harsh fluorescent light stabbed into his skull. He tried to move, only to discover that his wrists were bound with heavy rope, his arms stretched above his head and connected to some kind of track system.
Like meat hooks in a slaughterhouse.
The comparison became a lot more literal as his vision cleared. He wasn't alone. Men and women hung from the same rail system, stretching in both directions as far as he could see. Most were still unconscious, their heads lolling forward at unnatural angles.
Those who were awake had their mouths sealed with duct tape.
He tried to call out, only to realize he'd gotten the same treatment.
This is bad. I'm done for...
The sound of footsteps made him freeze. A figure emerged from the shadows, average height, dressed in a red hoodie and jeans that might have looked normal anywhere else. But his skin had a sickly pallor, like someone who'd been living underground for months.
The man looked up at him and smiled.
"Hey, Keller! Got a live one here. Fresh meat!"
A second man appeared, taller, white, wearing a black hoodie that made him look like the Grim Reaper's casual Friday outfit.
"Where? Let me see, man!"
Keller's voice carried the same sick excitement. When his eyes locked onto Mario, that enthusiasm doubled.
"Look what the cat dragged in." His grin stretched wide, revealing teeth that seemed just a little too sharp. "Most people stay under for at least two days with what we gave them. This one's been out for what, six hours?"
Wait. I can understand them.
Before... whatever this was... his English had been limited to gaming terms and the occasional meme. Now he was following their discussion perfectly, picking up nuances and slang like he'd been speaking the language his whole life.
"Get him down. He's going straight to the party. Quality like this doesn't come around often."
They lifted him off the hook. Mario tried to fight, but whatever drug they'd used had left his muscles weak. All he managed was a feeble thrashing as they dragged him deeper into what was clearly some kind of underground facility.
The hallway opened into a massive space that assaulted his senses. Flashing lights that strobed across a dance floor packed with people. It looked like any other nightclub, except for the hungry way everyone looked at him.
The pieces clicked together. The pale skin. The sharp teeth. The way they talked about humans like livestock. The underground club that looked like it hadn't seen daylight in decades.
Vampires... The nightclub... Blade? This is the opening scene! I'm in the Blade universe?
If he'd transmigrated into any other vampire setting, he might have had a chance. Interview with a Vampire? Talk his way out. Twilight? Sparkly bloodsuckers who felt guilty about their diet. Even Buffy had vamps that could be reasoned with.
But Blade vampires were monsters. They saw humans the way humans saw hamburgers, a food source, nothing more.
A woman approached them, her outfit leaving very little to the imagination.
"Rylia, this one's yours," Keller said, shoving Mario toward her. "Consider him tonight's dessert special."
She accepted the handoff, running one finger along Mario's jawline.
"Mmm. You boys really outdid yourselves this time. Fresh blood always tastes better when it comes with a pretty face."
Mario had managed to work the tape loose during the trip down here. Now he turned his head just enough to spit it out, meeting her gaze with as much defiance as he could muster.
"If I'm gonna die tonight anyway..." He forced what he hoped was a cocky grin. "How about we make it interesting? I'd hate to go out a virgin."
Unfortunately, the gorgeous bloodsucking bitch wasn't interested in his final request.
Made sense. Humans didn't fuck their cheeseburgers before eating them, and apparently vampires felt the same way about their Happy Meals. Rylia was only interested in the liquid refreshment flowing through his veins. Whether he died a virgin or not was about as relevant to her as what he'd had for breakfast.
The music in the underground club cranked up another notch, the bass line thumping like a massive heartbeat. Mario found himself sprawled on a leather couch, watching the dance floor.
Wonder how many of these people are food like me.
That's when the smell hit him... metallic. Blood. Lots of it.
Mario looked up to see red liquid spraying from hidden nozzles in the ceiling. But the strobing lights and pounding music kept the human cattle oblivious. They kept dancing, eyes closed, lost in what would be their final party.
The blood scent flipped a switch in every vampire in the room. Fake human faces melted away, revealing pale skin and razor-sharp fangs.
The masquerade was over.
Here we go.
Mario glanced at Rylia, who was also baring her teeth, and something snapped inside his brain.
Maybe it was the adrenaline.
Maybe it was the absolute certainty that he was about to die.
Or maybe he just couldn't help himself.
"Hey!" he shouted over the music. "Go fuck yourself!"
Before she could process what he'd said, Mario launched himself off the couch and drove his forehead straight into her face with every ounce of strength he had left.
Pain shot through his skull like someone had cracked it with a baseball bat.
Shit.
Vampire physiology was no joke. Even throwing everything he had into a desperate headbutt, all he'd managed to do was flatten her nose into something that looked like Voldemort's nostril situation.
Rylia's response was swift and brutal.
Her foot connected with his stomach. Mario went flying, his body ragdolling through the air before slamming into the far wall. He hit the ground hard.
Warm liquid trickled down his forehead. The sound of his impact was completely swallowed by the music and the screams starting to echo from the dance floor.
Rylia walked toward him. The flattened nose actually made her look scarier, if that was possible.
"You little shit!" she snarled. "I'm going to drain every fucking drop of blood from your worthless corpse!"
Mario tried to push himself up, failed, and settled for spitting blood onto the floor. "Just blood? Come on, I've got other bodily fluids you might enjoy. Really complete the dining experience."
Even facing death, he couldn't help himself. Years of consuming comedy podcasts and stand-up specials had hardwired his brain to find the punchline in everything.
Rylia's response was another vicious kick, this one aimed at his head.
The world went dark for a moment, then came rushing back. His vision swam.
"You've really pissed me off now," she hissed, grabbing him by the shirt and hauling him upright.
Mario's head lolled forward, blood dripping from various wounds. "Well... get on with it then. While I'm still warm."
He knew he was done for. The fight had gone out of him, replaced by exhaustion. All he wanted was for the pain to stop.
Rylia's fangs pierced his neck, and the sensation was bizarre. His body grew weaker with each passing second as she fed, but he forced his eyes open one last time.
Golden hair fell across her shoulders. Her skin, where it wasn't covered in blood, was smooth. Her ears were delicate, almost elfin.
With the last of his strength, he leaned close to whisper in her ear, "You know... for a bloodsucking monster... you really are beautiful."
Then he bit down on her ear as hard as he could.
Human bite force averaged somewhere between fifty and a hundred and fifty pounds per square inch. He was weak, but adrenaline was a hell of a drug. The cartilage gave way, and suddenly he had a chunk of vampire ear between his teeth.
He spat it into her face.
"Heh... heh..." Blood filled his mouth. "You want my life? Choke on this."
Rylia's scream was inhuman. She hurled him away from her, and he hit the ground like a broken doll. But he couldn't feel the impact anymore. He lay face-down on the cold concrete, listening to his heartbeat slow. Somewhere in the distance, he heard a massive crash, like someone had just kicked down a door.
Probably Blade making his entrance. Too bad I won't be around to see it.
His last thought before everything went black: All I wanted to do was take a piss.
---
Mario's eyes snapped open, and he gasped like a drowning man breaking the surface.
"What the hell?"
He sat up slowly, patting himself down. No wounds. No pain. The blood was gone, his clothes were clean, and he felt... normal. Well, as normal as someone could feel after getting killed by a vampire.
"Did I just... respawn?"
That's when a synthetic, electronic, and completely emotionless voice hit him.
[VAMPIRISM MOD LOADING...]
[LOAD COMPLETE]
[PLEASE SELECT CLASS]
[VAMPIRE] [VAMPIRE HUNTER]
Two glowing options appeared in his field of vision, like a video game character select screen.
He didn't hesitate for even a second.
"Vampire Hunter. No question."
The idea of being on the menu again, of feeling that helplessness as something inhuman drained his life away... fuck that. He'd rather die a thousand times than go through that again.
[VAMPIRE HUNTER CLASS SELECTED]
[TO CHANGE CLASS, COLLECT REQUIRED MATERIALS]
Warmth spread through his body, starting in his chest and flowing outward like he'd just drunk a shot of whiskey. Something was changing inside him, he could feel it at a cellular level. But the sensation faded as quickly as it had come, leaving him feeling... exactly the same.
"That's it? No stat boosts? No special abilities? No fucking instruction manual?"
He waited for some kind of response, maybe a tutorial or beginner's guide. Nothing. The system was apparently the strong, silent type.
Mario pushed himself to his feet and dusted off his pants. Whatever had just happened, he was alive again, and that was what mattered. Now he needed to figure out where exactly he was and what his next move should be.
He walked out of the alley and onto the main street. Cars rushed past. At least he was still in the modern world, he'd half-expected to wake up in medieval times or some fantasy realm.
The signs on the storefronts were all in English, which he could somehow read perfectly despite his language skills being shit before all this started.
So the system was already active when I first got here, he realized. But I could only access the class selection after dying. Does that mean I need to die to unlock new features? But how many times can I repawn? 5? 10? 2?
Lost in random thoughts, he continued to wander along the street.