Red opened his eyes, feeling like his head was about to explode.
He tried to process what had happened before, but the situation didn't give him the chance.
He found himself in some kind of prison cell… or maybe a warehouse?
A single light flickered above him. He couldn't see past his feet—that's where the light stopped shining.
"What the hell did I do to deserve this?
He couldn't just put me here without knocking me out?"
He muttered to himself, trying to stay calm as he scanned the place around him.
The more he looked, the less it felt like a cell. There were no bars. The room was big—too big.
More like a warehouse.
Then he saw it.
Black blood on the floor. Still boiling.
He straightened up instantly.
He knew that kind of blood. He'd cleaned it once or twice before.
awakened Devil blood.
The low light didn't let him see the creature. Only the thick, black liquid, spreading slowly toward his feet.
He couldn't move. Couldn't scream. Just stared.
He had seen devils like this before. Dying. Sealed. Burned. Some killed on the spot. But never like this.
Never alone.
No Hunters.
No Cleaners.
No protocol for this kind of situation.
No tools. No backup. Just him, in a room, with a dying devil.
Then it clicked in his head.
When Michael said "a test"… did he mean this kind of test?
If so…
That meant promotion.
The top rank.
Silver Cleaner.
A title whispered, not spoken.
A rank earned through stains that never wash off.
He didn't know why it only hit him now. Maybe back with Michael, his brain had been stuck in survival mode.
It never crossed his mind that the "test" was this.
He'd heard about Silver Cleaners before. They were the top. The ones who sealed devils, burned memories, cleaned up the aftermath. No devil weapons. No contracts. But still…
they were the real deal.
But was this really a test for him?
His boss never looked like the kind type.
He always looked like a man who wanted something. And when he wanted something—he got it.
And Red?
He was just a normal human. No Valheim blood.
He didn't get to have opinions.
Refusing wasn't even an option. Not with someone like him.
He was still trying to make sense of it when a sound snapped him back.
The devil.
It was still alive.
Bleeding. Flickering. Moving.
From what he could see, it looked like a goat—
But not the kind that belonged on any farm.
Its fur was black, thick, and tangled, hanging in wet clumps like it had crawled out of something rotten. Long, gnarled horns twisted up toward the ceiling, spiraling unnaturally, as if they were still growing, reaching for something that wasn't there.
But it wasn't goat-sized.
It was bigger. Elephant big. But thinner—its limbs stretched too far, joints bending the wrong way. Its whole body twitched in short, violent spasms, like it was fighting something under its own skin.
Red's heartbeat roared.
He forgot everything else.
Now, it was just about survival.
How to run?
How to live?
Before he could move, a voice slithered from the dark — cold, playful, sharp.
"You need to seal that devil.
And once it's done...
You'll never forget how."
Red flinched.
The voice sounded familiar, but there was something… off. Almost childish, but unsettling to hear.
Red snapped.
His instincts flared.
"Hey! Can you hear me?! I need help!
How the hell am I supposed to seal a devil?!"
No answer.
The only reply to his shouting…
was the gurgling of the devil on the ground.
He found himself silent again.
He'd forgotten about the devil for a second, distracted by that damn voice.
But now, the devil's growl was rising by the second.
It was struggling. Moving. Reaching for something.
As the light flickered, Red could finally see its face.
A goat's face, but wrong.
Three bleeding eyes.
Its mouth was covered by something like a mask—stretching all the way down to its jaw.
Behind that, dozens of razor-sharp teeth, twitching, ready to tear through anything.
Red started backing away, step by step trying to hold himself together. But his foot pressed against something.
He glanced down.
His heart stopped.
A sealing paper.
Black. Worn. Words etched into it, old and fading.
But it was still intact. It was something.
His only chance.
"That's it… If I do this right, this is my ticket out of this damn place."
He didn't know how to seal a devil. He'd never done it.
But this was it.
No one was going to help him.
No one was going to give instructions.
It was a test.
A test with no preparation.
No mercy.
Just him…