"But if it's that WebNovel, then… who am I… hmm…"
Jason tapped his chin like he was some evil mastermind.
"Aha! Of course! I know a way!"
He raised his finger to the sky as if declaring a divine revelation.
"All I have to do is reach into my pocket… and summon the H.I.S!"
The H.I.S, or Hunter's Identification Seal, was basically a smart card, more like an ID card issued by the Holy Confederation. Every single vampire hunter in this Wild West got one.
The card was said to magically track vampire kill counts and even glow when near bloodsuckers. To Jason, this wasn't just an ID—it was proof of destiny.
In reality, it was just the author's cheap way of introducing magic to the readers in chapter 3 of [The Man Who Burned the Night].
"Obviously, I should have one…"
The thought that he might not be a vampire hunter at all? Ha! Preposterous! How could Heaven's Chosen NOT be a vampire hunter? Was the sky blue? Was sand sandy? Obviously, he had to be one.
With dramatic flair, Jason reached into his vest pocket. His lips curled into a smug grin.
"Behold… my destiny."
He pulled out…
…nothing.
"…"
A long, awkward silence.
"…Err…"
Jason coughed, then checked his pants pocket. Nothing. He checked his back pocket. Still nothing. He even patted down his socks just in case the gods had been extra quirky with their blessing. Nothing.
"No… this can't be." His hands trembled. "Don't tell me… I've been transmigrated as… an extra?!"
His pupils shrank.
"Or worse… A background NPC?!"
Jason dropped to his knees, clutching the sand in both hands like some tragic drama king.
"Heavens!! Do not forsake your most loyal disciple!!"
Above him, the same bird from earlier circled lazily, then let out a mocking kaw kaw.
Jason's face twisted in despair, then suddenly, suspiciously fast, his expression brightened.
"…Wait. Of course! This is merely the Hidden Prologue Quest! The heavens are merely testing me!"
He jumped to his feet again, pointing to the sky with renewed vigor.
"Ha ha ha! Nice try, oh gods of fate! You thought you could fool the Great Lord Jason, but I, the One Who Sees Through All Clichés, know better!"
The bird pooped again.
Jason dodged. Barely.
"…Aha. Truly, the trial has begun."
A minute later, he breathed in heavily, chest puffing. For a brief, fleeting second, maybe, just maybe, Jason was starting to realize he wasn't that special.
Then his eyes lit up.
"Aha!! Of course!! The heavens are giving me free reign here!"
"Not having a Hunter's Seal doesn't mean I'm a nobody, it means I haven't officially registered yet. Which means…"
His grin spread like a villain's monologue.
"…I am still young!!"
Yeah. No. The syndrome was flaring like a bad rash.
In this world, there were exactly two ways to get a Hunter's Seal:
First was one simple, compared to the other option.
Enroll in a prestigious academy, where the very first thing they'd do is slap an ID card into your hand before asking if you could even swing a stick.
The second one was to kill a vampire, drag the corpse to the local church, and go through an interview, physical exam, and probably some weird "bless-the-blood" ritual before they'd let you in.
Jason glanced down at himself. The body was young, just like he had suspected. Fifteen? Sixteen? Basically prime "shounen protagonist" age.
He clenched his fist dramatically.
"Obviously… this means my character hasn't enrolled in the academy yet! Which means… I am at the very beginning of my growth arc!"
He laughed. Loud. Too loud. Birds scattered. Tumbleweeds ran for their lives.
"Yes… yes! This is just like chapter one! I am the hidden seed, the sleeping dragon, the future god of slaughter that will rise and shake the heavens!!"
Jason's voice cracked halfway through, but he still struck a pose like he was on the cover of some third-rate light novel.
Somewhere in the distance, a lizard hissed. Jason took it as applause.
"The Great Lord Jason starts with nothing. No Seal, no reputation, no family, no… uhh, bank account, but soon!"
He jabbed a finger skyward.
"SOON the heavens shall quake under my footsteps!"
He paused, blinked, then muttered,
"The novel starts at the academy… that means… even the protagonist hasn't started yet. Hmm…"
Since this was a Wild Wild West magical fantasy story, events like "towns getting attacked by vampires" or "half the population being drained like juice boxes" were as common as dust in the desert. So honestly, this didn't narrow things down at all.
Then—spark! His eyes lit up.
"Wait a minute! Am I the protagonist??"
Jason gasped, then started spinning in circles like a malfunctioning windmill, arms stretched out as he laughed.
"Well, I am not someone who wants to be in the limelight, nooo, of course not."
"But… if the situation calls for it, then I suppose… I can wear the mantle of a hero."
He closed his eyes, inhaled the dry desert air, and nodded seriously. Truly, he sounded like a man destined for greatness. Truly, he sounded… delusional.
"No reason for Heaven's Chosen One to be roasting under this sun!"
"I should go investigate the town and… discover who I am meant to be."
With that, he strutted toward the abandoned town, taking in the grand—well, okay, the dusty and half-collapsed—view.
In his eyes, though? This wasn't a ghost town. No, no, no. This was a new world. A grand stage. A glorious playground where Jason would rise, shine, and become…
"The Greatest," he whispered, striking a pose no one was there to see.
The wind whistled. A tumbleweed rolled by. Somewhere, a crow cawed.
Jason took them all as signs of destiny.
...
Jason smiled and took in a warm breath, ready to embrace this glorious new world with open lungs.
And immediately puked.
The stench hit him like a freight train carrying rotten fish. Blood, corpses, and… something rancid that smelled like expired cheese left in the sun.
"Shit!!"
Jason gagged, clutching his stomach.
Still—still!—he wiped his mouth and straightened his back like some noble warrior facing certain doom. His face was calm, serene even.
"You can test me all you want, oh heavenly gods. But I, the Great Jason, shall not yield! Not to blood, not to corpses, not even to… whatever that smell is."
For the record, it was horse intestines.
He strode forward like he was walking the red carpet instead of stepping over literal dead bodies. Normal people would be screaming or fainting at the sight, but Jason? Jason was too far gone. His syndrome was running the show now.
At the entrance of the town, he paused.
Classic Wild West small town vibes: whitewashed walls, wooden shops, saloons with batwing doors, a dusty general store. And corpses. Lots and lots of corpses. Human and horse alike, all decorating the place like a very budget horror movie set.
Flies buzzed everywhere, the true rulers of this town now.
Jason pinched his nose then crouched beside a cowboy who had been mauled by a vampire. The man's face was torn open with deep gashes, one eye neatly sliced in two like a tomato in a cooking show.
"Ah… yes. This is the work of the Evil Clan of Night Demons… a sign left here for me, Heaven's Chosen."
A fly landed on his cheek. He nodded gravely.
"Even the insects confirm it."
He touched the dead cowboy's shredded hat, closing his eyes.
"Rest easy, stranger. Your sacrifice shall not be in vain. I, the Great Jason, will avenge you…"