"It was a long time ago," a light-gray-haired man said to a child. "I was once an emperor, I was once a magician, and I was once a madman."
The man had a poorly trimmed beard and sat on a park bench like a homeless person. He looked to be somewhere between forty and fifty years old.
"Amazing, mister! An emperor? What does an emperor do?" the boy asked excitedly.
The child was so innocent that he didn't even notice the man was a vagrant.
"Boring things. Running the empire, taking care of my brides, politics… ah, I hated politics." The man covered his face with his hand and tilted his head upward. "It was fun… very fun."
"What happened to your empire, sir?" the boy asked, even more excited as he sat beside the man. "I want to see your empire. It must be really cool."
The man looked at the boy with sadness.
"It doesn't exist anymore. That was a very, very long time ago." He smiled sadly and patted the boy's head. "So long ago that it isn't even remembered in history books."
"But you don't look old," the boy said, pouting and crossing his arms. "You're not lying to me, are you?"
"Hahahahaha, of course I'm not lying." The man laughed as if he hadn't laughed like that in ages. "Lying to a child is a sin I wouldn't commit."
"Then why do you look so young?" the boy asked, even more annoyed. "It sounds like a lie to me."
"I'm a vampire too," the man joked, showing red eyes.
The boy shrank back in fear for a second, but he didn't really seem afraid of the man. Something told him the man wouldn't hurt him.
"You're not going to drink blood, right?" the boy asked, afraid and suspicious.
"Of course not… I haven't drunk blood in a long time," the man replied with a mischievous smile. "But how about making a bet with me?"
"A bet?" the boy asked, confused. "What kind of bet?"
"A card bet." The man pulled some tarot cards from his pocket. "Each of these cards represents a class."
"Like RPG cards?" the boy asked excitedly as he looked at them.
"Hahaha, yes, that's it." The old man smiled, happy that he wouldn't have to explain much, and drew a card. "This is the Saber card."
The card showed a man holding a sword like a knight.
"Is he a medieval knight?" the boy asked, excited.
"Not exactly. He is a master of the sword," the man said playfully. "Only the greatest swordsman in the world can be called a Saber."
"Awesome… like King Arthur or Musashi!" the boy jumped with joy, staring at the cards.
"Exactly. And this one is the Lancer." The old man drew a second card showing a man holding a spear. "The best and fastest fighter who uses a lance—although they tend to have very questionable luck."
"You don't need luck when you have skill," the boy replied excitedly. He liked this card even more than the Saber, since his favorite anime character used a spear.
"Exactly… and this is the Archer." The old man drew the next card, showing a man holding a bow. "A knight whose aim is so good he can hit an enemy from kilometers away."
"Wow, like a sniper?" the boy said, remembering American movies he had watched.
"Exactly. Just like snipers. And next is the Caster." The old man smiled and showed a card with a mystical man. "This is the sorcerer, a magician among magicians."
"Can this card make a person disappear and make a dove appear from a top hat?" the boy asked innocently.
"Hahaha, yes, they can do that easily." The old man laughed and drew another card. "This one is the Assassin."
"Aren't they bad?" the boy asked nervously as he looked at the card.
"No… on the contrary. No one loves life more than the one who must take it," the old man replied with a sad look. "And this is the last one—the Berserker, the hero of madness."
"Poor thing… why does he go mad?" the boy asked sadly.
"He lost a lot and ended up going insane, trading his sanity for power to protect the people he loves."
"I understand him. I'd do the same thing," the boy nodded, admiring the Berserker's sacrifice.
"That's good. Now, about the bet." The old man gathered the cards and pointed at the boy. "In ten years, there will be a cataclysm caused by an evil god who corrupts heroes. These cards represent heroes who were not corrupted."
"That's terrible," the boy said, eyes wide. "What are you going to do? You're powerful, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am… but I can't do anything," the old man said sadly. "I can't intervene, because that god has taken precautions against me. But you can."
The old man placed the cards on the bench.
"Choose one of these cards."
The boy smiled and, without hesitation, chose two: the Berserker and the Lancer.
The old man tried to stop him, but the cards shone and vanished, turning into dust that entered the boy's body.
"Amazing. You managed to synchronize with two of them and you're still alive." The old man's eyes gleamed as he stared at the frozen boy.
The cards are already changing his body, and it seems they're not trying to destroy him. They're trying to save him—and the dragon's power is helping, the old man thought, sighing as he saw the boy grow dizzy.
"So… why choose the unluckiest and the most tragic ones?" the old man asked.
The boy looked at him with shining eyes.
"My favorite anime character is the Crimson Lancer. He's amazing. And the Berserker is amazing too—making that kind of sacrifice for the people he loves. I want to be like him," the boy said excitedly. Then he panicked. "Sir, the cards disappeared! I can't pay you for them—I'm a kid, I don't have money!" He started to cry.
"Don't worry. They were meant for you anyway," the old man replied gently.
He patted the boy's head.
"I'll see you when you become stronger, boy." The old man smiled and picked up the remaining cards. "Farewell, Hyoudou Issei. My name is Zelretch."
Ten years later
A vision flashed before Issei's eyes. He saw hundreds of men impaled, and another image of a man fighting an army, even as his intestines spilled out and were tied to a tree.
"That damn Zelretch made me wait ten years and nothing happened," Issei growled irritably, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Oops."
He made a perverted face when he saw a redhead in the distance.
Rias Gremory—one of Kuoh's great beauties, and perhaps the most beautiful woman Issei had ever seen.
"Issei, what are you staring at?" Matsuda appeared, slapping Issei on the back. He stopped and stared too. "Damn."
He made the same lecherous face. "Rias-senpai…"
The two of them fantasized for a moment until Motohama arrived and stopped to look as well.
"How can a woman be this perfect?" Motohama gasped, and the others agreed.
They stood there for a while until Matsuda suddenly declared:
"Let's go peek at the kendo club."
The statement was so intense that Motohama snorted in excitement.
"You guys go," Issei grumbled, raising his hand in a lazy wave. "I'm not in the mood."
"What the hell happened to you?" Matsuda asked in shock. "You never turn something like that down."
"Yeah, what's going on? Are you sick?" Motohama put a hand on Issei's forehead.
Issei laughed and pushed his hand away.
"No. I'm just not feeling it. Go on." He sighed and walked off, leaving his friends behind.
They were right—he was acting strange. It wasn't that his libido had decreased; on the contrary, it had increased.
The problem was that whenever he looked at a girl who wasn't "his" in a lustful way, something twisted inside him and made him feel sick.
He sighed, knowing it was all Zelretch's fault.
"I can't be hallucinating." Issei looked at his own hand. His nails grew longer, and he cut his own wrist with them. The blood didn't even have time to flow—it went back inside, and the wound closed instantly.
"Damn… it's faster. Those cards were real. That old vampire turned me while pretending they were just cards." Issei shook his head. "There's no point regretting what's already happened."
He thought about how the old vampire had transformed him, especially when his perfectly human canines had grown into something not quite human anymore—though it wasn't noticeable unless he smiled wide and curled his lips.
Issei grew more irritated as he remembered how, when he turned fifteen, his body had suddenly changed.
One day he was a scrawny, perverted kid, and the next he looked like a gym rat without ever setting foot in a gym.
He had to wear looser clothes so people wouldn't think he was using drugs to gain muscle overnight.
"Excuse me."
Issei was pulled from his thoughts by a soft, gentle voice.
"Are you Hyoudou Issei?"
He turned and saw a black-haired girl he had never seen before. She was perfect—beautiful in every way, with nothing out of place.
"Uh-oh, I'm in love," Issei surrendered to his instincts, making a perverted face. "That's me. What does a hot girl want with me? My God, a hot girl knows my name."
The girl made a brief awkward face, then bowed her head.
"Please, go out with me," she blurted out shyly. "I've always been in love with you."
Whoa, I've never seen this girl before, but she's hot. I should reject her—what if she's an assassin robot? Issei panicked internally. Then he turned to her.
"I accept! I accept! My God, I have a girlfriend!"
He shouted, grabbing her hand and almost jumping with joy.
The girl made a sad face, then smiled happily.
And just like that, Issei got his first girlfriend.