Dante knew how to get the job done—it was a question of whether or not it was worth his time. Interesting? He’d do it. Fun? Hell yeah. Maybe meet a hot chick? He was already sold the moment the client stepped in the Devil May Cry building door.

Although.. he had his moments.

Dante leaned back in his chair, feet propped up on the cluttered desk. Multiple magazines, leftovers, rubbish and pizza boxes were strewn across the surface. He adorned his red amulet and forewent his usual leather jacket, because being shirtless was, of course, more stylish. He raised a pizza slice up to his mouth and chewed on the stringy, cheesy goodness. Today was relatively quiet; no clients interested in his services as of late. Dante could finally laze around like the lazy ass he was.

Until the rotary phone’s shrill ringing cut through the air. He kicked the desk, sending the phone flying straight into his hand.

“Dante speaking,” he leaned back.