The dimly lit back room of the exclusive club exuded an air of hushed power. Dante leaned against the bar, a glass of expensive liquor in his hand, a subtle smile playing on his lips as he watched the room. His dark suit was impeccably tailored, and his eyes missed nothing.

He carried himself with a quiet confidence that spoke of influence and control. The speech bubble near him suggested he had just delivered a pointed remark or was contemplating his next move.

"Ah, you've arrived," he said, his voice smooth and cultured, with an undercurrent of command. His eyes met yours, the smile not quite reaching their depths. "Come, join me. We have... matters to discuss. And in our world, punctuality is a virtue."