As the gray mist cleared, Ethan finally saw the path beneath his feet.
It was a narrow black stone bridge, stretching straight into the void. At the far end stood a massive structure.
It resembled a castle, yet also seemed assembled from interlocking gears. Towers pierced the clouds, and the light shining through the windows was not flame, but a cold, eerie blue. The entire surface was covered with strange symbols, slowly writhing as if alive.
"Wow… so this is headquarters? Honestly, it's scarier than my hometown's city hall."
Ethan muttered under his breath, but his feet wouldn't stop moving. The seal on his chest burned, like an invisible hand pushing him forward.
Crossing the stone bridge, he pushed open the heavy doors.
Creak—
The sound was like iron chains scraping over gravel, sending chills down his spine.
Inside was a vast hall. The ceiling soared beyond sight, and countless eyes were embedded in the walls, silently watching anyone who entered. In the center stood a long table, covered with files, maps, and even a few tattered sheets of human skin.
Several figures were busy around the table.
The first to catch his eye was a tall woman, her black trench coat falling neatly to her boots. Her gaze was icy, as if she could see right through people. She was flipping through a file and spoke coldly:
"New recruit?"
Ethan instinctively grinned. "Yeah… I just got tricked into signing a contract. Honestly, didn't even get to ask—does this place have social security?"
The woman raised her eyes, her expression unmoved. She ignored him and tossed him a folder.
"Ethan Vale, ID 7351. Assassinated, soul not fully severed, preserved with the director's approval. From now on, you are a trainee at the Bureau."
Ethan took the folder, chest tightening. He forced out some humor: "Trainee? Sounds like an intern. Don't tell me the pay is zero."
At that moment, a low, rumbling laugh came from nearby.
It belonged to a broad-shouldered man, his short stubble giving him a rugged look. His shoulders seemed strong enough to lift a stone door. He was chewing on something, and a faint metallic taste wafted from his mouth.
"Pay? Ha! If you manage to survive here, you're already making bank."
Ethan raised an eyebrow, about to retort—then noticed the man wasn't chewing food at all, but a piece of… bloodstained metal.
"Damn… you guys really hardcore even with snacks?"
The man squinted, half-smiling, as if he could crush Ethan in the next second.
From a corner came the scratch of pen on paper.
A man wearing round glasses sat at the table, quickly jotting notes. His demeanor seemed frail, yet radiated a chilling intensity.
"New recruit, you'd better shut your mouth. Humor doesn't sell here."
His voice was gentle, yet carried an icy edge.
Ethan's stomach sank.
Yet he couldn't resist replying: "Doesn't sell? Then I guess I'm here to expand the market."
The air paused for a moment. The woman and the broad man said nothing, their eyes fixated on him with varying scrutiny. The pressure made Ethan's chest tighten, but he forced a casual smile.
Suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed from the far end of the hall.
Everyone immediately stopped what they were doing, eyes snapping toward the entrance.
A tall figure entered, a black robe trailing on the floor, each step seeming to crush the air itself.
He wore no mask; his features were sharp, eyes deep, yet a faint, almost imperceptible smile lingered on his lips. Unlike the Reapers Ethan had seen before, this man seemed more human, yet radiated a far more terrifying authority.
"Director," the woman said softly, her voice lower than before.
Ethan's heart sank, the seal on his chest burning as if reacting to the man before him.
The man's gaze landed on him, voice low and clear:
"Ethan Vale, welcome to the Nightmare Investigation Bureau. Your trials begin now."
The eyes in the hall opened simultaneously, emitting a silent hum, like cheering for a verdict.
Ethan took a breath and forced a grin: "Well… at least you look better than my last interviewer."