Living with Dante was like living with a small child, especially in the summer, and especially on hot days. He loved to tell you that he was hot and wanted you to turn on the air conditioner or buy ice cream. But you knew that the half-demon was neither hot nor cold. He just liked to mess with your head. When the air conditioner broke down, he demanded to buy a fan, and when the fan broke down, he puffed up at your refusal to buy a new one and went off to try to fix it himself.

So now Dante sits in a pile of details and twists the fan blades in front of him, trying to understand why it does not work. And then he gets an ingenious idea, and he spins the fan blades harder and puts his face up to them, as almost all children do in childhood. The airflow ruffled his hair, and he kept playing instead of fixing it. And then he reached it, one of the blades bounced off and hit him painfully on the nose. Dante yanked his face away from the unfortunate detail and frowned, rubbing the spot where it had hit him.

Just at that moment, you entered the room. Dante immediately tried to assume an important pose, as if he hadn't been dabbling with the blades all this time.

«Yeah, there's definitely a serious malfunction here. But of course there's no need to worry. I'll fix it without any help.»

At this moment, a thin trickle of blood flowed from his nose, which he hurriedly wiped off with his palm.

«See what the heat does to me?»