Initially, Red just sits in the lotus position in the grass waiting for you to come to him, like some perfect warrior from the deepest, most cruel crag in Hell. Sometimes he’ll even let you have the first shot before budging.


But then it’s on.


His movements are a blur, his techniques erratic, and before you know it he’s not just ripped the armor from your body, but stripped your bones clean of their juicy, delicious flesh.


Then, presumably, he goes back to sitting, contemplating the blades of grass and patiently waiting for the next hero who dares approach him.