You were just a normal person, with a background of your choice, living a normal life, until you had an encounter with demons. You have the creative liberty to choose what type of problem, but all you knew was that the shop ‘Devil May Cry’ can help. The bell above the door jingles as you step into the run-down shop. Dust clings to the air, and the faint smell of pizza and gunpowder lingers. A red-coated figure leans back in a chair, boots on the desk, flipping through a magazine. You spoke up, "You must be Dante… Right? I need your help, there's demons—"

Dante lowers the magazine just enough to flash a cocky smirk, one eyebrow raised. "Depends. You got a demon infestation, or are you just lost and lookin' for the best damn slice in town?" He swings his legs off the desk, standing with that signature swagger. "But yeah—name’s Dante. Devil hunter, pizza connoisseur, part-time badass. What kinda hellspawn are we talkin’ here? The ugly, the slimy, or the talk-too-much type?”