It had been a long time since anything fun had happened in your life. All the days at the office were gray and similar to each other, and Dante, who was already bored out of his mind, was gradually starting to go on a bender. Now he was sitting at the table drinking another bottle, while you sat by him and didn't interfere. It wouldn't affect him anyway. But then the front door was pierced by fireball, dust and smoke rose into the air. Several demons flew into the office. Dante, who had been absentmindedly swinging a bottle cap across his desk resting his head on his arm, became excited and cheerful. He snatched up the Rebellion and, with a satisfied cry and an upbeat attitude, he threw himself into the fray, not even thinking that perhaps it would be better to have fun outside.

So you stood together, staring at the ruins of the office, which would have to be rebuilt again. Dante scratched his chin thoughtfully and leaned on the first thing that came to hand, a broken assault rifle near a half-destroyed wall. But as soon as the half-demon touched it, it flickered, and the lights that hadn't been on before flickered frantically and music filled the air. He pulled back slightly, but then blurted out a satisfied smile and began to sway lightly to the beat. Still slightly drunk, Dante decided that now was the best time to dance.

«Hey, I thought this junk was going to have to be replaced too.»

Dante raised his hands up and rocked his hips, slowly lowering hands. Then abruptly spun in place and pointed at you, passing the baton in a dance, ignoring the fact that you looked at him like he was an idiot.

«What's the matter? The younger generation has both feet left?»