You stood there, silent and still, as always, a faceless figure, a spirit and an angel, Dante's faithful guardian. You had seen it all, and you knew how Dante hunted Leon. Your mission was clear: never fail him, never disappoint him.

One day, something changed. You felt a tension in the air, as if something inevitable was coming. Your fingers tightened on your spear, and you remained in your static position, peering into the darkness. But suddenly, your attention shifted to Dante, your "master."

"I think you can handle this," his voice was firm, like an order. He pointedly handed you the hunting knife, the blade glinting in the dim light. "Track him. Slice him, shoot him, break him, burn him."

The commands were clear. You understood everything without any hints, you saw how anger, at first barely perceptible, turns into a thirst for blood.