Chapter 9: Then Again, She's Hot

Dante teleported a few yards behind Vergil, throwing his Faust Hat and catching that sucker; looking Fancy as Fuck, Vergil got pulled backward against his will and slammed into the dirt behind Dante, thus he was fashionably pissed off about it.

"Eat my dust, Vergil!" Dante yelled in triumph.

"Get back here—!"

Enlisting the quickest of quick runs, Vergil also started chucking Mirage Blades with extreme prejudice, even tossing some by hand. Sensing those very sharp illusions incoming, Dante added hopping and weaving to his already goofy-looking sprint forward. He then chanced a look backward and saw a myriad of pointy blue knives heading his way, so he spent a moderate amount of time panicking before ultimately setting one trigger-finger to Turbo Mode. He then breathed a sigh of relief after blasting each blade under intense stress.

However, he gawked when a bright blue blur whizzed past him, then spotting an extremely classy Vergil sprinting up ahead.

"You're still too slow!"

"Oh, yeah?!"

Commanding a subhuman force, Dante allowed his sword to impale his own chest, then commanding himself to explode into Sin Devil Trigger. Now utilizing phantom-like speed, Dante's advent to victory was all but inevitable.

Until Vergil popped SDT, too, flying forth with terrifying aggression. In his demonic voice, he growled, "This is the end for you!"

"You won't pass me up!" Dante roared back.

Over by the forest, two lowly Empusa demons were having a catfight, screeching at each other when either twin exploded on the scene, incinerating everything in a twenty foot radius.

"I won!" Dante declared, reverting back to normal.

"Malarkey—my wings were ahead of yours!" Vergil countered, also reverting.

"Wings don't count. Just accept you lost a race to your 'slowpoke' brother!"

"Never. So, where are we?"

The not-so slowpoke shrugged. "Beats the hell outta me. Too bad there aren't any demons to smack around."

"We've only grazed the surface. Surely, a challenge awaits somewhere within these treacherous thickets."

Smirking, Dante teased, "I don't know, Vergil. Seems kinda spooky for you. You sure you can handle a hike like this?"

The hellscape explorer smirked ahead. "Hmph. If not, then I'm in the wrong realm."

And so, both brothers took the first step inside the dark forest of Hell. The "trees" were nothing more than blackened branches with outgrowths of shiny, purple resin sacks. The grass and shrubbery consisted mainly of scorched earth and spiked, glowing stones, but all in all, still a pretty peaceful resort. And because of the peace, that meant the brothers were due for more reminiscing.

Dante brought up, "While we're on the search, it's definitely your turn again. Tell me more about Meredith."

"Who?" Vergil asked.

"You know…ole 'No Name'."

"Oh…"

Attention span constricted, Dante then challenged himself, "Hey, you know—I bet I could guess her name. Is it…Angelica?"

"No."

"Ashley?"

"No."

"Bianca?"

"…"

"Beatrice? Betsy? Caroline? Corinna? Uh, Cee…Ciara? Darlene? Deedee? Francesca? Francine—? Wait, I skipped E. Uh, Eee…? Evelyn?"

"Just stop, Dante. You're never gonna guess…uh…blast, what was it…?"

Amused, Dante surmised, "You forgot her name?"

"You made me forget her name!" Vergil accused. "Seriously, what was it…?"

"Well, just use the placeholder for right now. What were we calling her…?"

"Susan," Vergil recalled with shame. "I can't believe I remember that name over her actual one…"

"Big whoop—it'll come back to you! Now, on with the story!"

He sighed. "Fine…"

-X-

"So, why's this town so important to you?"

"I guess you could say…I'm drawn to the culture," Vergil kept his answer vague.

Walking beside him, Susan said in a low tone, "Because you're a demon…?"

Vergil just went with it, "Yes. And I'm also curious to know why humans would worship a demon as a god."

"He isn't just any demon," Susan explained. "He saved the human race from a demonic takeover—from his own kind. Instead of giving us darkness, he preserved our light."

Eyebrow raised under his hood, Vergil asked, "And what about…other deities? Does the subject ever come up?"

"I guess that's…where it gets confusing. I like to think they're all the same God, but the clergy here—and especially everywhere else—wants to keep separate our god from theirs. It's a little disheartening not knowing all the facts, but I guess that's what faith is at its core."

"Tch. Why even place your faith…in something destined to fail?"

Susan responded with a confused murmur at first, but then she asked, "Are you saying that because you've been let down by religion?"

Vergil corrected, "I'm saying it because this 'Sparda' person…he didn't save the human race—he prolonged their inevitable demise."

Susan halted in their walk.

"He was either a fool or an unbelievably uncaring demon. He could still be alive today had he decided to use his power to rule over humans. But instead, he chose to trust them in governing themselves. And as for all his power—he simply withheld it, even from himself."

Stymied by his argument, the woman in red simply stated, "We're here."

Looking up, Vergil saw the building they were standing beside was labeled "Fortuna Inn". Stoically, he asked, "And I can just walk right in?"

"I know the woman who owns this place," Susan replied, voice subdued. "I'll just need to ask her for permission."

"If there's a problem, tell her I have payment."

"It's best if you come with me. She likes to see the people I bring here."

Walking inside, Vergil and Suzi—wait, we're not ready for that, yet. Walking inside, Vergil and Susan walked past the lobby, currently manned by a middle-aged hooded man with a ham radio.

Susan greeted him, "Hey, Rick. Your team winning?"

"Yeah, the one time I bet against them…" He belched loudly. "I'da been better off as a goddamn scientist…"

Vergil remained silent, not sure if that was a reference to something, or what. Anyway, he continued following his escort, who led him down to the main office. Once inside, Susan and Vergil stood before an elderly woman surrounded by demonic trinkets and effects, and she sat leisurely with her hood down.

"Madam Samber," Susan greeted. "I've brought another guest in need."

"Hm…?" She scanned him through her Coke-bottle glasses. "He from outta town?"

"He is, and he was just so polite to me, that I truly wanted to offer him a room. Would it be okay?"

Well, that was a reason for Vergil to put on his poker face, and he did so as Madam Samber looked him up and down. Then, she relented, "I can spare a room for a few nights. How long d'ya need to stay?"

"Not long," Vergil spoke up. "I plan to depart in three days."

"You're not running from the law, are you?"

"No, I would assume not."

The landlady reached into a drawer and passed Susan a key. "Well…if you don't mind, try not to maim anyone with that weapon you're hiding under your cloak."

Surprised ever so slightly, Vergil nodded and said, "I will abstain."

"All right, now. And be careful with that sword, too."

Vergil did a double-take, and when Madam Samber started chortling out loud, Susan nervously pushed the half-devil elsewhere.

"Let's go see your room, Vergil…"

-X-

"This is dreary, but it'll work."

Susan nodded. "Good, I think. If you need me, I'll be down the—"

"Whoa, someone in here?" said a voice coming from the bathroom.

Vergil clutched his sword; he nearly drew it when a Scarecrow demon hobbled into sight, looking wildly startled. In a normal, non-demonic voice, the Scarecrow demon exclaimed, "Whoa—look at the size of this dude!"

Sighing in annoyance, Susan said, "Gazul, what are you doing in here? How did you get in here?"

"Gazul?" Vergil repeated.

Gazul, rubbing his chin-area with a gloved hand, replied, "Yeah, there was a hole in my bathroom, and one of my bugs crawled through it. It was crazy—I ended up chasing that sucker all throughout the walls of the dang Inn! Also, that means there's a hole in this suite's bathroom, too."

"You'll have to excuse him," Susan requested. "He's Gazul. He stays here, too, and—what are you doing?!"

Sword drawn, Vergil stated, "Killing Gazul."

"Whoa, bro!" Gazul shrieked.

"He's a nice demon—like you!" Susan pointed out. "Come on, Vergil! You promised not to maim anyone!"

"I was talking about humans," Vergil clarified. "Now, I'll make this quick…"

She stood guard in front of Gazul. "Just leave him alone."

Gazul, highly offended, stuck up for himself, "Yeah, I might not be as tall or as well-groomed or as good-looking or as tall as you, but I deserve a fair shake! Also, did you really just say he's a demon like me?"

The demon sympathizer nodded. "I sure did. He's not quite as pleasant, though."

Gazul corrected her, "Gonna stop you right there, Suze. This guy's clearly not a full-fledged demon. I smell human all over this schmuck."

"You're…part human?"

Aggravated, the totally not full-demon fired back, "I don't even know why you listen to this scum. Just get him out of here. I'd like to retire in peace, now."

"Hm…" Deciding to hold off for another time, the young lady ushered her demon friend to the door, saying, "Fine. Come on, Gazul."

Before the door closed, the lowly demon uttered, "Sheeeeesh. Better check under my bed for him, tonight."

Sitting down by the table, Vergil muttered irritably, "He's the schmuck."

-X-

Later that night, over by the church, a certain outsider had stealthily entered through a window, spotting the statue of Sparda still in construction.

Jumping down to the ground floor, the young nomad walked on in silence, then approaching the altar to investigate the literature left there. Finding a few interesting passages, he confiscated it, then stopping just before the partially veiled, giant statue.

"Father…" he uttered. "What even is my purpose…?" Sighing, he added, "Just to outdo you? To fix your missteps? What more is there for me beyond such trivial labors?"

The statue did what statues do best; nothing.

Smirking sourly, Vergil surmised, "I guess you really could be a god. You're just as silent as one."

-X-

The following morning, Susan and Gazul were discussing a certain half-devil in the kitchen area. Gazul, certainly dedicated to the role, wore a stereotypical chef's hat while Susan wore a pleasant maid's garb, devoid of her usual hoodie-attire.

"I guess that explains why he looks so human," said the woman, curiosity burning both her soul and her pancakes. "But I don't understand why he'd want to hide that fact. It's like he doesn't even want to be human."

"Maybe he hates humans?" Gazul posited. "Maybe not as much as he hates demons. Also, maybe you should flip those?"

"Oh—!"

"Maybe feed those to the dogs—"

"Maybe he just doesn't see the delights of being human. I wonder…"

"Hey, that pancake order ready yet?" Rick asked, poking his head in the kitchen window.

"Sorry, tell them we'll have to start over," Susan replied.

"Tell them? You mean tell me. It was my order."

"In that case, I'm going on break," Susan announced. "I have to go check on something."

Walking out to the lobby, she switched her apron and maid's hat for the red dress, then drawing up her hood. After scaling the stairs to the top floor, she zeroed in on Vergil's door and knocked a few times, asking, "Are you hungry?"

She got no response, so she knocked again.

"Vergil?"

With more silence, she abandoned the task and went back toward her own room, but before entering, someone came up the staircase just then.

"Oh. There you are," she said. "Did you stay out all night?"

"No," Vergil replied. "I got up early."

As he walked past her, she noticed all the sweat and dirt on his person. "You must've been exercising."

"Something like that."

Achieving points for aloofness, the lone swordsman went into his room and closed the door. Indeed, that brawl with the teleporting electric demon got quite intense, and he sought a well-deserved victory shower. However, after entering his bathroom, he finally encountered that hole in the wall Gazul mentioned. It was a beachball-sized missing part of the bathroom, situated directly under the shower head, and the moment Vergil touched the faucet, that sucker snapped straight to the floor.

He stared blankly.

A little later, Susan heard a knock at her door, then opening it to see Vergil trying very poorly to look humble. He explained, "My bathroom is falling apart. May I use your shower?"

"Oh. Yeah, sure!"

Walking in, Vergil awkwardly looked around until spotting the bathroom door. Before walking inside, he stopped and asked, "Do you always wear that hood?"

"No. Just when I'm around you."

The sweaty devil boy didn't know what that was supposed to mean, so he grunted and closed the door. Then, he donned a look of dire suspicion, swinging the door open again before demanding, "Let me see you without the hood."

Wholly bothered by that request and how he made it, Susan scoffed and dropped her hood. Standing in the doorway, Vergil wordlessly viewed the objectively beautiful features presented to him, from her glaring blue eyes to her frowning full lips. Without a doubt, the full revelation made it easier to admire her full array; the short and dark brown hair went well with her prim figure, and when there's a rocking bod with a pretty face nearby, Vergil instinctively taps into his inner poet.

"Ah. Sound the flute, now it's mute."

She blinked once. "…What?"

That didn't quite land like he intended, but that seemed to not matter, as his next tactic involved stalling. Casually, he explained, "Regarding the meaning of what I just said, I have no idea."

Fixing him with a bewildered look, she just stared back.

What was he stalling for? More time to look at her. He said, "On second thought, what I meant to say was… Well, now. Once again, it escapes me. If you will, stand there while I try to remember."

Susan smiled with a lethal edge. "Stand here? Really?"

He had to make his getaway snappy. "Ah, I remember now. It was nothing. Anyway, thanks for the shower." He disappeared behind the door and cranked that faucet.

-X-

"It was quite easy to tell she wanted me desperately," Vergil bragged. "Easily, I could've given her what she so-clearly needed, but I decided to let her marinate on that sly bit of poetry while I bathed in the next room."

Curious, Dante asked, "So, what line did you say?"

"Who knows? That was decades ago—but surely, it was groundbreaking. Hey, how about an intermission? I think I deserve a continuation on that story with Lightning Farron."

"Ya really wanna hear that one, huh?" Dante scratched his scraggily chin. "All righty, we were in Mon Con, we'd just went our separate ways—after I asked her out like a stud, of course. Oh, wait—first lemme tell you about the actual job I ended up doing in Mon Con!"

-X-

"Four times today, huh?" Dante whistled his amazement. "Something tells me Mister Basarios hasn't been in a good mood lately."

The village's sheriff-dude, or chief or hunt leader or something, puffed his grumpy-old-man cigar and said, "Yeah, and neither have his vomits. None of my hunters have been able to put any of 'em down. They got this habit of turnin' into liquid and shootin' through the air; they go so fast, my hunters lose sight of 'em every single time."

Totally forcing himself to be excited about this, Dante quipped, "Fast-moving demon-puke? I, uh…guess that's right in my wheelhouse."

"Heh, I sure as hell hope so. In addition to the four he just hacked up today, the Basarios has been recorded throwing up six demon-vomits since Saturday. We're gonna need you to take those sonsa bitches out anyway you know how. Also, we need you to incapacitate the bat-rastard what keeps puking 'em out, that way our shamans can cure its unholy illness."

Puzzled, Dante asked, "You're trying to cure it, like it's a sick puppy? Won't some hunters just come by and kill it later?"

"Basically," said Chief Sheriffson. "In fact—just kill it. Don't know why I said that last part."

"Me neither. So, how fast do ya want this job done, Captain Fixer?"

Lieutenant Hunt-Leader puffed his cigar. "Hmm…well, the sooner, the better. And, if you get it done before the end of tomorrow, I'll slide you a bonus."

"You reckon I need almost two days? Must be a huge region to romp around in." Standing up from his simple tree-stump in the commander-sheriff's village office, Dante slung his instrument case on his shoulder and gave his decree, "I'm gonna go after that Basarios first. If I still got any daylight left, then those monster-vomits are up next."

"Sounds good," the guy said, standing up from his fancy, expensive-looking monster-themed office chair. "Send us a smoke signal when you knock that beastie unconscious. Our shamans will be on the lookout."

"Shamans, what—? No, dude, I'm gonna kill the Basarios!"

"Huh—? Oh, right. Right, kill it. And another thing: be careful when going after the Basarios. His vomits are intelligent enough to protect him at all costs, but I think you can handle 'em."

Briefly studying one of the photographs of his target, Dante replied, "Right. I'll see ya."

"Thanks, Devil Hunter. And don't forget that smoke signal for our shama—"

"Dude, no shamans, all right?"

-X-

There was a certain legendary photographer and journalist whose name was big around that time. He possessed the uncanny talent of getting the scoop on explosive stories all around the world—even in other worlds. His latest lead had him deep in the Capcom World territory of Monster Country, where he stayed low in the shadows to avoid detection from a rather peculiar group of adversaries.

"Ugh, man…these things are unreal…"

And then suddenly…BANG-BANG-BANG, SLASH-SLASH, SLASH, stomping noise, SLASH, BOOM-BOOM…SLASH, BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG…

"What the hell…?" the man uttered from his cover of a wide leaf. "Wait a minute, is that…?"

Still doing his action-star-thing, Dante was flipping and dipping around to avoid the sentient vomits' dash attacks. And speaking of the vomits, each one resembled a smaller, man-sized Basarios with the texture and smell of vomit. And since it was dragon vomit, some parts of their greenish bodies glowed bright orange while smelling like the last barbecue you'd ever want to be invited to.

And Dante could've brought with him all the A.1. Thick and Hearty sauce in the world; this was still guaranteed to be a dirty job. With his bootstraps effectively hiked up, Dante continued laying waste to the three demon-pukes sloshing around to strike him. Noticing they were getting sluggish, he did the unthinkable and taunted them, saying, "'S'wrong, guys? Feeling under the weather?"

Just then, one of them charged on Dante headlong, then getting cut diagonally all the way through. The other vomits saw this and gave a couple of wet growls, then turning to liquid before shooting off deeper in the woods.

"Hmph," the devil hunter grunted, holstering Rebellion. Glancing at the melting hemispheres of the possessed puke, he determined, "Guess that's one down. Better not slack."

"Dante, Dante, Dante!" cheered a voice from behind him.

"Frank?" he said, watching the seasoned reporter approach him.

"In the flesh. Nice moves slashing up that, uh…upchucking. What brings you here?"

"Thanks—I got a call for a job clearing out some energetic throw-up. What about you?"

Taking out an empty vial, Frank said, "Nearly the same thing. I'm actually investigating what some sources believe…" Using the vial, he scooped up a bit of the vomit-remains. While inspecting it, and also freaking Dante out mildly, Frank finished his thought, "…to be a bad experiment intentionally released by some bigwig research organization."

"Well, this is awkward," said the vomit-hunter. "Technically, those research guys are getting me paid today."

"Technically, me too," the vomit-reporter replied. "But trust me—I'd rather be investigating pork factories than this baloney."

"You and me both, man. And it sounds like you have some strong leads. What do you think they made, some kind of virus that only attacks monsters?"

"We'll see. Right now, we got a few too many corporations that wanna take over the world. Some think biological warfare is the way to go, while others prefer the forces of nature. I guess this company stirred the pot with both. Heh…you'd think after all this time, governments would stop shoveling money to blowhards like them." Switching topics, he asked, "You goin' after the Basarios, too?"

"Sure am, otherwise this job'll take all week. You wanna help me fight it?"

"Sure, if by help, you mean hang back and wait for a cheap shot. I need a few action shots, anyway.

-X-

Over the course of the next four hours, Dante and Frank trotted around the Everwood as a team, even managing to take down four more vomit-spawns while encountering the Basarios twice. During their second encounter, both city-slickin' vomit hunters went nuts with the teamwork, meaning Dante went nuts with the combos until stunning the rock wyvern, then giving Frank a chance to deliver a massive blow via gigantic bone-sword.

And just like that, the demon-possessed Basarios was finally defeated. As it roared its last breath, Dante cheered, "All, right! Way to go, Frank!"

Hoisting his probably borrowed sword on his shoulder, Frank pointed out, "We ain't outta the woods yet. Sounds like his little green minions are on the way fast…"

Indeed, the sound of slippery slime was zeroing in on their position, and Dante quickly spotted a glowing green and orange blur zipping around in the distance. Spinning Ebony, he unleashed his sarcasm, "Oh. My favorite."

Just then, three of them dropped in, all hurling liquid projectiles of pure, chunky, unadulterated—

-X-

"Wait," Vergil halted him.

A platoon of Nobodies emerged from fresh portals of blood, followed by two Hell Judeccas as well as a few of those floating-around Green Empusas.

With a smirk veiled in shadow, Dante perceived, "They look a little lost. Maybe we should help 'em out."

"I know just where to send them."

Swords were drawn and moves got tricky; the battle quickly became fierce within that canopied area, and the only sources of light were from the airborne Empusas and the glowing yellow stones scattered about. If the situation was bleak, it was on behalf of the demons, thanks to the twins; the infernal blood they spilled disappeared into the blackened landscape; the subhuman cries of the Nobodies blended and faded with every swipe of sword; and the stretchy, bladed limbs of the Jedecca hurled and swirled over the macabre background, and all that shit looked and sounded sick as fuck, even when Dante asked, "Wait a minute… Were you talking about sending them to Hell? Dude, we're already here."

Vergil's gaze went blank from an internal atom-split. However, he still had the mental resilience to respond with, "Then, we shall send them to Super Hell."

Dante was all about that type of energy, for he activated his standard Devil Trigger and roared, "All right! It's on!"

"Imbecile," Vergil growled, sending a few Judgement Cuts against a rolling batch of explosive eyeballs.

Meanwhile, Dante's duel with the remaining Judecca took him past a slight decline on the edge of the trail, where the foliage cleared out by the shores of a pitch-black pond. Having delivered the last slash, the hiking half-devil reverted to normal, then rising up and smiling at the mid-sized body of water. With his sword on his shoulder, he gave a grunt of approval.

"I might be due for a swim," he remarked, then checking over his shoulder. It sounded like Vergil was just wrapping up his edgelord-death-metal-bloodbath with the remaining demons, so Dante took it easy and looked back at the pond, saying, "I bet I could sneak a few la…ps."

Dante trailed off. There was a person in the pond, now. Just their head was sticking out.

Dante stared in a trance. He saw the person was submerged past their nose, close enough to make out a star-shaped tattoo about the forehead. Dante gasped, stupefied from head to toe. And slowly, the person began rising from the water, revealing a feminine physique beneath the soaked white gown clinging to her.

"Dante! Don't tell me you were felled by such a lowly demon!" Vergil called from behind him.

Looking over his shoulder, Dante saw his brother approaching, then checking back to find that the woman was gone. The ripples in the water persisted, however.

"There you are," Vergil greeted irritably, hiking down the small hill. "What, are you thinking about taking a bubble bath?"

"What—? No! Er…though, I probably need one."

The dark slayer shrugged. "Well, hurry up and do it. I don't have all eternity."

Dante shook his head, glancing at the pond again. "Nah…let's just…keep exploring. I'll come back once we kick some more ass and…take some more names."

"Suit yourself."

As Vergil led the way back to the trail, Dante chanced one more look at the pond, still finding it empty. Then, with a disturbed frown, he looked away and tried to act normal for the time being.