Veil of the Devil’s Hour

The third devil collapsed — groaning, twitching, half-conscious.

John stood over him, finishing the sealing ritual. He muttered the final words, and the black paper on the devil's chest snapped to life. Chains burst from it — twisting tight — and flung the devil's body to the ground like a puppet cut from its strings.

Blade watched, then gave a short nod.

"Still rough, but you sealed him. Not bad, boy."

He turned away, stretching his shoulder with a smirk.

"Go call the Queen. Tell her to warm up my check."

(The Queen — code name for HQ.)

But before either of them could respond—

Clap. Clap. Clap.

A figure stepped out from the drifting mist — tall, graceful, wearing a blood-red suit that flowed like velvet soaked in death. A long blade hung at his side, sheathed in something that looked alive.

His very presence shifted the air. Colder. Thinner. Like oxygen didn't want to exist near him.

John's eyes widened — hand already reaching for his gun.

"No… no way…"

Miles froze. Even he looked rattled.

"It's him our unit Captain "

John whispered, like speaking louder might summon something worse.

" Jack the Ripper… The Crimson Surgeon."

Jack smiled — a grin so wide it was almost kind. Almost.

"Well, well, well... Look who it is. Blade Vailhom. Didn't know you were still alive. That makes… what, thousand devils now?"

Blade didn't turn to face him.

"Here he is… The Butcher of Valheim. Queen's favorite lapdog."

Jack stepped forward, crouching next to the twitching devil. He poked at the jaw, inspecting the fangs with one gloved finger.

"Oooh… this one's fresh. Looks tasty. Mind if I take a bite?"

Blade stepped forward without hesitation.

"Back off. That's my prize. I'm turning both of them in. Paycheck's already halfway home."

Jack's smile sharpened.

"Both? I only see one corpse."

Blade tapped his coat, calm as ever.

"The other's in here. Sealed him in forbidden paper. Parasite Devil's just sleeping."

Jack stood slowly.

"Tsk-tsk… you people and your old-school voodoo. Still — gotta admit, I didn't think you had it in you."

At that moment, his team appeared behind him — elegant, almost regal. Long red coats, perfect posture, dead eyes. They didn't look at the devils. Just Blade, John, and Miles — like they didn't belong.

Jack dusted off his sleeves.

"We'll head back first. Don't want to dirty these shoes standing around with dogs."

Then he paused. Looked back over his shoulder at John and Miles.

"You two… Report to me when the mission's officially over."

John clenched his jaw. Miles said nothing.

Jack turned to Blade one last time.

"Try not to get them killed, Paragon of Death. I'm the only one allowed to rip them apart."

Then — like a shadow in silk — he vanished into the mist, his team gliding behind him.

Blade stood silent, watching.

"That bastard still thinks the world spins around him…"

John blinked hard.

"Wait… wait a second… What did he call you? Paragon of Death? That's you?!"

Blade sighed and adjusted his coat.

"Damn old geezer... I hate that name. But hey… can't outrun your own myth, right?"

"Yeah, yeah — I'm the guy who 'saved humanity from the Great Devil Portal,' or whatever bedtime story they're telling now."

"What now? You gonna bow down and worship me, or just stare like I farted lightning?"

Miles' jaw dropped.

"Wait a minute… I thought you were just the guy who killed the Unkilled…"

He paused — eyes wide, breath catching.

"But you're the Paragon of Death… The legend… the protégé… the guy who said, 'You don't need blood to fight blood.'"

"You inspired us to become Devil Hunters, man."

"We were just Cleaners — trash boys for the rich. They didn't even let us fight. Just made us wipe the blood and keep our mouths shut."

"But we trained… made contracts… earned our weapons. Proved we weren't useless."

He looked down. Voice lower.

"And now we find out… the Paragon of Death is just some guy chasing checks?"

Blade smirked, walking past them.

"Money's just a number, boy. A goal. It buys me gas. Repairs my bike. Helps me upgrade gear. But nah — I don't fight for the money."

He glanced back with a crooked grin.

"I fight 'cause I can. And someone's gotta be scarier than the devils."

The three of them walked back through the dark streets, returning to the hideout in silence. The two rookies carried the devil's body on their shoulders, hidden under a white sheet.

At the back door, they removed the sheet before entering. Eva met them there, a trail of smoke curling around her face, her gray eyes sharp as razors.

"Hey Blade. Were they any help to you?"

Blade smirked.

"Interesting powers. But they've got a lot to learn."

"So you could've handled it alone, huh?"

"Wasn't that hard… but—"

He glanced at the still-aching wound in his gut.

"Still hurts a little. No blood though."

Eva sighed.

"Ok I'll get your payment."

"Finally. I can go back to Valheim. My lovely motorcycle's waiting."

"Wait. You wouldn't leave your commander alone in a foreign land, would you? How cruel."

"Come on Eva, you've got Raze ."

"About that... She left after your second mission."

"What?! Did she take my old gear too?"

"She took everything. HQ sent her off to continue that project."

Blade sighed

"Guess I'll help with the investigation then."

"First — did you hand the devils to the sealing division?"

"Yeah. But I used forbidden paper for the Parasite Devil."

Ava clenched her fists — knuckles cracking, jaw tight. Her gray eyes flared like smoke catching fire.

Blade blinked.

"Ah… shit. I think I did it now."

"She's gonna fucking kill me."