He shook his head. He didn't need to look after himself, that just sort of happened. He didn't know how to explain that this was something he needed. He wasn't good with words. He was just a dumb ex-con from Boston who'd never even considered college as an option.

"I...protect people," he managed. "I mean, I'm supposed to protect people..." He didn't want to start babbling about God's plan or any of that spiritual shit, but he felt like he had a duty. He had the ability to protect people. God might not have given him much of a brain, but he'd given him fists and the force to use them. He was a brute. He wasn't going to be cracking any great mysteries or uncovering wall-shaking secrets.

But he could beat monsters into a bloody pulp.