Behind the History

Wow!

Lincoln's youngest son, still clutching a toy soldier and a tiny silver dagger, burst into tears at the sight of the demon-like thing before him.

As the cries rang out, James sprang forward. The elegant carpet tore with a sharp rip beneath his feet. Just as the tall, thin maid's nose was about to touch the child's pale, sweet-smelling skin, the view suddenly seemed to pull away. A mural of the Revolutionary War on the ceiling filled his vision, then abruptly turned scarlet.

Thud! James grabbed the maid by the back of the head and slammed her into the floor. The tremendous impact caused bleeding throughout her skull, staining her retinas red. She twitched twice, then fell still.

President Lincoln rushed into the room right behind him, followed by a commotion of shouts and footsteps. Seeing the maid sprawled on the floor, her face still as hideous as a demon's, he couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. His expression softened considerably.

James crouched in front of Little Lincoln and covered the child's tear-streaked eyes, shielding him from the terrible scene. Then he scooped him up and handed him to Lincoln.

"The young master is fine. Judging by your expression, I imagine you—"

"Behind you!"

The maid sprang up behind James like a corpse coming back to life. President Lincoln saw her and shouted a warning. The guards arriving behind him all had their guns raised, but they were afraid of hitting the president or his guest if they fired. For a moment, they were left frozen in place.

James still wore his gentle smile, as though he hadn't noticed the fangs closing in on his neck. In the blink of an eye, he shifted his stance and pivoted. The tall figure, nearly two hundred centimeters in height, seemed to vanish in the narrow space between them, dodging the attack. He struck the maid's neck with the edge of his hand, then twisted his wrist and pinned her under his arm.

His arm tightened, then jerked. Crack! The tall maid's neck snapped. James lightly tapped her back with his right hand. Another sickening thud followed as he broke her spine.

Even with her neck and spine broken, the maid lay on the floor, jaws agape as she screamed and cursed. Her body, however, couldn't move. James planted a foot on her face to keep the unknown creature from attacking again, then continued what he'd been saying.

"Judging by your expression, I imagine you have a story to tell me?"

Two tall men sat smoking cigars in a somewhat cramped storeroom. Amid the swirling smoke, James ran his thumb over the gleaming silver blade of a long-handled axe. Years of use had polished its thick handle to a sheen. In the boxes beside him were rows of somewhat tarnished silver daggers, spikes, glass bottles, and more.

"So only silver works? I mean, things like wooden stakes and sunlight are supposed to be fatal to vampires, according to the stories."

James asked President Lincoln, who was leaning against a wooden crate, with genuine curiosity.

"The stories aren't entirely accurate. Wood has no effect at all. They dislike sunlight; daylight affects and weakens them, and prolonged exposure can hurt them, so they cover themselves with things like sunscreen. But it isn't fatal."

"Oh! Right, fire works too."

Lincoln stood and took the long-handled axe from James. He flipped it around in a practiced flourish, smoothly switched hands, and swung it through the air a few times before adding,

"They can deceive your eyes, making themselves partially invisible. They're especially hard to spot in shadows or at night. They're as fast as a galloping horse and as strong as an ox. Apart from silver, any wounds inflicted by other weapons or methods heal quickly."

James tilted his head. "Can they survive having their heads chopped off?"

"Uh... no, they can't. You can take off their heads, but that's very difficult to do." The president sounded hesitant, as if wondering why he had never thought of that before.

"The truth of history is hard to believe. The great Abraham Lincoln was once an outstanding vampire hunter, and the Southern slaveholders were directly or indirectly connected to vampire families. Mr. President, you really are full of surprises." James finished speaking, then gave a small bow.

"I hardly deserve to be called great." President Lincoln shook his head, then continued. "So much of what's called the truth has been buried. Only a few people know any of it. The vampires of America came to this continent alongside the European pioneers. By now, they've put down deep roots. You remember the governor, Smith, and his niece dying a few years ago, don't you?"

James looked a little uneasy. "Of course... I heard it was food poisoning."

"No. It was most likely the work of those vampire bastards. The Church in the United Kingdom was even called in to investigate the incident."

James sounded unconvinced. "Mr. President, I think—"

"Call me Abe. No matter what, you saved my son. I won't forget what you did for us, Mr. Howlett!" President Lincoln said solemnly.

"Call me James." His tone softened.

They blew smoke rings and exchanged smiles.

"What about you, James? You should tell me your story. For instance, how old are you?"

James paused, then asked in surprise, "In my twenties. Why?"

The president asked hesitantly, sounding both surprised and uncertain. "You're not over a hundred and twenty? Or two hundred and twenty?" James grumbled to himself that he certainly wasn't an ordinary human either, and that this question was a real headache.

"Then how did you find out? How did you know something was going to happen in that room from so far away?" President Lincoln looked even more puzzled.

"Smell. From the moment I arrived at the White House tonight, I could smell traces of blood. At first, I didn't think much of it. There are a lot of guards here, and professional soldiers come and go all the time. Of course, there's a strong smell on you, too. I was just wondering if you'd ever been on a battlefield."

James took another puff of his cigar, then continued lazily as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. "But once that thing got close, I knew it wasn't human. Its bloodstink was overwhelming, like a mountain of corpses giving off a stench that could make you faint. My nose has always been sharp. The smell made me want to throw up. So I kept an eye out, until I sensed a surge of murderous intent. Things were happening too fast for me to explain more at the time."

President Lincoln watched James closely, his expression serious but faintly amused. For a moment, he said nothing.

"You can probably tell I'm not an ordinary person, but I promise you, I'm human, and I don't need to gain strength the way those dark creatures do." James paused briefly, then continued.

"I believe you. Even if you were a vampire, it wouldn't matter. The person who guided and trained me was a vampire with a conscience. Some people are forced to become what they are, and they became the ones who trained the first vampire hunters."

A glimmer of remembrance shone in the president's eyes as he quietly recounted the story of seeing his mother killed by a vampire when he was a child, and how, by a twist of fate, he later became a hunter and spent his life seeking revenge...

James didn't leave the White House until early the next morning. He and the president had talked all night: how to deal with the vampire slaveholders, America's political system, the need to abolish slavery, and much more.

President Lincoln was deeply impressed by the young and mysterious Mr. Howlett's remarkable insight and profound understanding. With nearly two centuries of hindsight and foresight, James had developed uniquely perceptive ideas and opinions about the country and the world.

The president had asked James to stay in Washington and help him defeat the Southern slaveholder system, as well as the vampire clans running rampant across the continent.

James didn't agree right away. He still had things to do, and it wasn't time for him to step in yet. This was a war sweeping across an enormous country and involving tens of millions of people; no individual could resolve it. Even so, there was no one in the ordinary human world who could threaten James at present.

On the way back, he was beset by doubts. You never knew how little you knew until you needed it. James was kicking himself for not watching more Marvel Universe movies or reading more related stories in his previous life.

As far as he knew, creatures like vampires shouldn't exist in this world. Yet not only had the entire American South become the world's largest gathering place for vampires, but the famous President Abraham Lincoln had also turned out to be a vampire hunter!

This world was growing more complicated by the day. How much use was there in the few things he remembered from his previous life...?

As he neared the estate, James finally made up his mind. No matter how complicated or dangerous this world became, his fists and strength were what he needed to face it all. He had been practicing Anjin for almost five years, and lately he had begun to feel the Jing Qi reaching his face.

He was close to entering Huajin, a level he had once attained before. Almost there.