In an instant, Alex was gone.
And then he opened his eyes.
He was in a room.
A hotel room—he recognized it immediately.
Polished bed, locked fridge, clean lines, too small yet lavish to be an apartment.
Just by the layout, the height of the ceiling, and the subtle luxury, he estimated four, maybe five stars.
It didn’t matter.
Alex moved to the bathroom, switched on the mirror, and took in his reflection.
The face looking back at him was his own… but younger.
Black hair, sharp brown eyes, a lean but muscular physique.
His height 6’2″ towered even in the modest bathroom.
He flexed his jaw, examining every line, every contour.
“Back at my prime… twenty-four, maybe twenty-five.
Looks like these gods didn’t hold back.”
He shifted his gaze to his arm.
The crimson tattoo sprawled across it, swirling and twisting until it formed the outline of a dragon, alive with faint, flickering energy.
“Servants… summoning… how does one even start with that?” he muttered.
The answer came to him not from memory, but instinct, as if the knowledge had been written into him.
‘Heroic spirits of the past.
Divided into seven classes, plus several extra.
Designed for a Holy Grail War.
Masters and Servants.
A wish at the end.
To summon a Servant, you need a summoning circle… and a catalyst.’
Alex laughed dryly.
“And how the hell do I know that?
I’ve never touched magic in my life.
The Gods must have… fiddled with my memories.”
He turned back to the bedroom and flicked on the television, letting the noise fill the quiet luxury around him.
“Let’s see what year we’re in,” he said.
The screen lit up, and a news anchor began speaking in measured tones:
“In recent reports, the Justice League has defeated the villain Joker as he attempted to contaminate the national water supply with his Joker toxins.
He has been sent to Arkham Asylum.
Batman and Wonder Woman headed the operation.
Reports indicate Superman is still off-planet on a secret mission for the League.”
Alex froze for a fraction of a second.
Then muttered, low and sharp: “Fuck… this is not… a normal world.
And according to the gods… the god I’m meant to hunt… is the strongest here?
A world where Superman exists?”
Before he could finish, a black cat appeared from nowhere.
It landed gracefully on the television, stretching as if it owned the room.
A pair of eyes, impossibly intelligent, fixed on him.
Then it spoke, deep, calm, and with an unsettling authority.
“Alex Black Veydris… so you are the Assassin of Gods, huh?
What an interesting individual.
Welcome… to the DC world.”
Alex’s eyes narrowed “A talking cat…” he muttered.
“Why am I not surprised?”
“You’ll get used to it,” the cat replied lazily, tail swaying like a pendulum.
“I am the gods’ apostle in this world.
Call me… Nioh.
I’ve been assigned to guide you through your little crusade and explain what you need to know.”
Alex crossed his arms.
“Good.
Then start talking.
I need information.
All of it.”
Nioh hopped down from the television and landed soundlessly on the floor.
His movements were too precise, too deliberate.
Not an animal.
Something wearing the shape of one.
“This world is not like yours,” Nioh began.
“Heroes, villains, demons, wizards, aliens, gods, monsters.
Power here is commonplace.
A man flying through the sky is a Tuesday inconvenience.”
Alex listened quietly.
“The Justice League you saw on television?
They’re only the surface.
Beneath them are cults, hidden cities, ancient evils, and beings older than humanity itself.”
The cat’s golden eyes glinted.
“Your current goal is simple.
Grow strong enough to become the strongest being on Earth.”
Alex frowned.
“Still nothing about the rogue god?”
“Not yet.”
“That’s convenient,” Alex said dryly.
Nioh continued, unbothered.
“First, you must reach a basic benchmark.
You must become strong enough to easily kill the individual known as Superman.”
Silence.
Then
“I have to kill him too?” Alex asked flatly.
“Not necessarily.
Consider him… a measuring stick.
If you cannot eliminate him without difficulty, you will never kill the rogue god.”
Alex exhaled through his nose.
“Can’t I just summon a Servant on that level and let them handle it?”
“The Servants are tools,” Nioh said.
“Your army.
Your teachers.
Not your crutch.
Relying solely on them defeats the purpose.”
“Explain.”
“Every Servant you summon carries their skills, techniques, and experience.
By interacting with them, learning from them, fighting alongside them, you will gradually acquire their abilities.
You grow.
Not just them.”
Alex’s eyes sharpened.
“So I’m not just a commander.
I’m training myself into a weapon.”
“Exactly.”
That… he liked.
But something still bothered him.
“There’s something that doesn’t add up,” Alex said.
“The gods spoke like I’m some legendary assassin across existence.
But look at this world.
There are people here who could crush me with a finger.
Smarter ones too.
Better killers.
So why me?”
Nioh’s tail flicked once.
“You’re correct.
You are not the best assassin in the multiverse.
Not even top twenty in this world.”
Alex stared at him.
“Comforting.”
“But,” Nioh continued, “you are something rarer.
You are a pure human.
And among pure humans, you are the best.”
“Pure human?”
“A human born in a world with no magic.
No aliens.
No superpowers.
No demons.
No supernatural interference.
A world where only humans exist.
Mundane.
Ordinary.
Invisible.”
Understanding dawned.
“The rogue god can detect anything unnatural,” Nioh said.
“If we sent a Superman from another world, or a Batman, or any enhanced being, their foreign essence would be detected instantly.
They’d be killed the moment they arrived.”
“But me…”
“You are invisible to him.
To the rogue god, you look native.
Just another human who happened to grow stronger.
Nothing suspicious.”
Alex nodded slowly.
“So the summoning ability is the only exception.”
“Correct.
And even that is subtle.
Too much divine power and you’d die the moment you arrived.
That’s why the gods chose strategy over brute force.”
Alex smirked faintly.
“So it wasn’t random after all.”
“Not even slightly.”
Nioh stretched, then continued.
“Now.
Your abilities.
I assume knowledge of Heroic Spirits and summoning rituals has already been implanted into your mind?”
“Yes.”
“Good.
Then here’s what wasn’t included.
Unlike normal Masters, you possess twenty-one Command Seals.
They fully regenerate every week.”
Alex raised a brow.
“Twenty-one?
That’s absurd.”
“Yes.
You’ll need them.”
“Next problem,” Nioh said.
“You are not a mage.
Your natural mana reserves are almost nonexistent.
Most Servants will require you to actively supply them with energy to maintain peak performance.”
“And how do I do that?” Alex asked.
Nioh answered without blinking.
“Sexual intercourse.
Semen is an extremely potent mana source.
Injecting it into them will sustain a Servant for roughly a week.”
The room went silent.
Alex stared.
“…Excuse me?”
“Mana transfer through bodily fluids,” Nioh said calmly.
“It’s efficient.”
“What if the Servant is male?”
“Same process.”
Alex’s face darkened.
“Absolutely not.
I don’t swing that way.”
“Then use the alternative.
Blood.
But you’ll need far larger quantities.”
“So my choices are bleed out or sleep with men?
That’s your divine master plan?”
“You won’t die,” Nioh replied.
“I forgot one detail.”
“Of course you did.”
“You currently possess an immortal body.
Regeneration at the level of a single drop of blood.
Only the rogue god can truly kill you.”
Alex blinked.
“…That’s new.”
“You cannot die, but you can be sealed, imprisoned, or restrained.
Do not become careless.
The immortality exists mainly so you can endlessly supply Servants with blood or other… resources.”
Alex considered it, then shrugged.
“Fine.
Blood it is.”
“Suit yourself.”
Nioh turned toward the bed.
“For now, that is all you need.
I will provide information when necessary, but I will never interfere in battle.
Do not expect rescue.”
A small pause.
“Oh.
And under the bed is a case.
Cash, identification, your new legal identity, and keys to this room.
It’s rented for a year.”
Convenient.
Very convenient.
“I believe,” Nioh added, body already beginning to blur at the edges, “it’s time you summoned your first Servant.”
The cat’s form dissolved like smoke.
“Good luck, Alex Black Veydris.”
Gone.
The room fell silent again.
Alex looked down at his hands, at the crimson dragon tattoo crawling across his skin.
Then he glanced toward the bed.
Money.
Identity.
A new life.
And somewhere in this world… a god waiting to be killed.
A slow grin tugged at his lips.
“Alright,” he muttered.
“Let’s start recruiting.”