In Johnny Blaze's apartment, the dim light reflected his tired face.
He stood in front of the bathroom mirror, his hands gripping the sink, his knuckles white from tension.
Cold water dripped down his cheeks, but it couldn't wash away the fractured images in his mind…
The flames of the church, the roar of the rock giant, and the cyan figure tearing through the night sky.
"What on earth is going on…?"
Johnny Blaze murmured, resting his forehead against the cool glass.
Those scenes felt so real—as if he'd lived them himself—yet they were hazy, like memories deliberately erased.
He raised his head and saw his bloodshot eyes, anger and confusion etched between his brows.
Taking a deep breath, Johnny turned and walked out of the bathroom, deciding a glass of whiskey might calm his nerves.
But the moment he stepped into the living room, a cold presence enveloped the entire space.
Johnny froze, a chill racing down his spine. He whipped his head around, pupils contracting.
A figure sat on the sofa.
An old man with gray hair and a gaunt face, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. His demeanor was elegant, almost gentle. He folded his hands atop a cane crowned with a crystal skull, a faint smile playing on his lips—as if he were an old friend who'd been waiting a very long time.
Johnny's breath caught in his throat. The blood in his veins turned to ice.
"It's you?!"
His voice was low and hoarse, forced from deep within.
The old man gave a slight nod, his scarlet eyes glinting in the dim light. "Long time no see, Johnny."
Boom—!
Johnny's sanity shattered.
"You damned devil!!"
He roared and lunged at Mephisto, fists clenched, knuckles crackling with fury.
But just one step away—
"Kneel."
Mephisto's voice was quiet, yet it carried the weight of an unbreakable command.
Johnny's body locked up—then collapsed to his knees, helpless.
His kneecap struck the hardwood floor with a sharp crack, splintering the wood. Jagged shards pierced his flesh, and blood began to seep through.
White-hot pain shot up his spine like lightning—but Johnny couldn't move. An invisible force pinned him in place.
"You—"
He gritted his teeth, veins bulging on his forehead, straining with every ounce of will. Yet not a finger budged.
Mephisto rose slowly, his leather shoes clicking against the floor.
He stepped toward Johnny and looked down with a mixture of pity and mockery.
"After all these years," he said, "you're still so impulsive."
Johnny lifted his head, eyes blazing with rage that seemed almost tangible. "What are you doing here? Come to enjoy my misery?!"
Mephisto chuckled, turned, and walked to the window. With his back to Johnny Blaze, he said,
"According to the original contract, I have fulfilled my promise. Now I need you to handle a little trouble for me."
"Dream on! Even if I die or go to hell, I won't do anything for you!"
"Oh?"
Mephisto tilted his head slightly, his crimson eyes narrowing as he regarded Johnny Blaze with interest.
"But you're already on Hell's list, Johnny."
Johnny Blaze's breathing hitched. He looked at Mephisto with an expression that said, You don't have enemies—you just have friends who hate you to the core.
Ignoring Johnny's hostility, Mephisto continued,
"Blackheart—my son—came to the human world without my permission. He also unleashed the three demons of earth, water, and wind. Now, they're searching for the San Venganza Contract."
Johnny frowned. "The San Venganza Contract?"
"A list of thousands of evil spirits who possess saintly qualities," Mephisto explained lightly, as if commenting that the price of cabbage had dropped by 1.3 cents today, so he'd bought two extra taels. "If Blackheart obtains it, he'll have enough power to subvert the human world."
Hearing this, Johnny sneered. "So? You're afraid of being overthrown by your own son?"
Mephisto didn't answer. Instead, he turned and locked eyes with Johnny, his voice turning icy.
"That's not something you should know. I want you to help me capture Blackheart and the three elemental demons—and retrieve the contract."
"Why?" Johnny asked coldly.
Mephisto smiled faintly. "In exchange, I'll release your soul from Hell and remove the power from your body, turning you back into a normal person."
Johnny's pupils contracted slightly. He was genuinely tempted.
But given the Devil's reputation—and Mephisto's severely overdrawn credit—Johnny scoffed.
"Do you really think I'd believe you? You said the same thing back then—and what happened? My father died, and I became a monster! You can't make another deal with me!"
Mephisto's expression darkened.
"Really? Then… I'll have to convince you another way."
His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.
Johnny sensed the shift instantly—his heart clenched. "What are you up to?!"
Mephisto raised a hand slightly, and several images shimmered into view in the air:
His agent. His buddy from the garage. His first love, Roxanne.
"If you refuse," Mephisto said, his voice slithering into Johnny's ears like a venomous serpent, "I'll tempt them to fall. Make them sell their souls—one by one—and then… drag them into Hell with my own hands."
Johnny's face went pale.
"You vile devil!" His voice trembled with rage.
Mephisto merely smiled. "Thank you for the compliment. But now…" He paused, eyes gleaming. "Make your choice, Johnny. Keep being stubborn—or save their lives."
Johnny stared at him, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles cracked, nails biting into his palms.
Finally, he lifted his head. The fire in his eyes had cooled into steely resolve.
"I'll agree to your request—but in addition to your promised compensation, there's one more condition."
"Explain."
"You must swear to stay away from my family and friends—forever. If you ever go near them again, I'll join forces with Blackheart and destroy you myself."
Johnny's voice was low, firm, and unyielding.
Mephisto was silent for a long moment. Then, slowly, he nodded.
"Okay. Deal."
Instantly, the oppressive weight around Johnny's body lifted.
Mephisto's form began to fade, dissolving like a melting shadow. Just before vanishing completely, he cast Johnny one last look and said,
"Don't let me down… Knight."
Silence returned to the room, broken only by Johnny's heavy breathing.
He looked down at his bloodied hands—and slowly closed his eyes.
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