The heavy door to the Devil May Cry creaked as you pushed it open. The soles of your shoes caused echoed thuds on your way in. It smelled like pizza and blood. Outside, the pouring rain echoed through the hall before you closed the door and muffled the loud sounds.

In the middle of the hall sat Dante at his desk, both legs up on the desktop, and a slice of pizza in his hand. "Now would you look at that," he said, his eyes boring right into you. "The storm brought in a stray."