I walked back to Devil Never Cry slowly. Trish had already gone inside with that stranger. I decided I would get some answers when I got inside, but I couldn't even guess what he might say. I finally reach DNC ready to question the hell out of this guy. But I was surprised.
"Hello Dante. Trish has led me to believe you lead a very interesting life and business here." He just smirked.
"Well, yeah, unless you see those guys out there as normal. I don't think I got your name…"
"The name's Blain. I want to thank you for helping me out back there." Blain, huh.
"Hey it's what I do, don't worry about it. Can I ask you something Blain?" Here we go.
"Sure"
"I couldn't help noticing how you look like me. The clothes, the figure, the brass knuckles. The only real difference is the hair, eyes, and no guns."
Blain drew two guns from behind his coat with lightning speed, and put them right back without missing a beat.
"Okay, so you even have the guns. But do you have any idea why you look like me? Or why we have the same clothes in different colors?" The questions that had been bugging me since this guy came in.
"It's kind of hard to explain Dante. But let me try something. Can I see that sword there?"
"Sparda? Sure, be careful though." What was he up to now?
He slowly reached into his jacket, and pulled something on a small chain out. It looked like a little medallion, almost like Virgil's and mine together. The one difference, of course, was that it was blue.
He put the medallion against the flat of the blade, and closed his eyes. Sparda began to glow slightly, and the medallion too. Then there was a flash, forcing everyone to close their eyes. When I opened them again, Blain wasn't holding Sparda. It looked like Sparda, but it wasn't as wide and looked sharper. Looked like a weapon faster than Alastor and more powerful than Sparda or Ifrit.
"Woah. It actually worked. Look at this beautiful piece of work." Blain grinned at seeing his idea working.
"Okay, what happened to Sparda?" That was my sword!
"It isn't Sparda anymore. It's the final version meant to be held by the son of Sparda." Blain answered. "It is called Brotherhood. Meant to be held by one of the sons of Sparda."
"What do you mean 'one of the sons' I'm his only son." Maybe this guy was insane, who knows. He seems to know a lot about my father too.
"Dante, your father had two sons. Both with the last name Sparda, to remind them of their heritage." Blain began. "My name is Blain, Blain Sparda."
"What?!?" Trish and I said at the same time.
"Hello Dante. Trish has led me to believe you lead a very interesting life and business here." He just smirked.
"Well, yeah, unless you see those guys out there as normal. I don't think I got your name…"
"The name's Blain. I want to thank you for helping me out back there." Blain, huh.
"Hey it's what I do, don't worry about it. Can I ask you something Blain?" Here we go.
"Sure"
"I couldn't help noticing how you look like me. The clothes, the figure, the brass knuckles. The only real difference is the hair, eyes, and no guns."
Blain drew two guns from behind his coat with lightning speed, and put them right back without missing a beat.
"Okay, so you even have the guns. But do you have any idea why you look like me? Or why we have the same clothes in different colors?" The questions that had been bugging me since this guy came in.
"It's kind of hard to explain Dante. But let me try something. Can I see that sword there?"
"Sparda? Sure, be careful though." What was he up to now?
He slowly reached into his jacket, and pulled something on a small chain out. It looked like a little medallion, almost like Virgil's and mine together. The one difference, of course, was that it was blue.
He put the medallion against the flat of the blade, and closed his eyes. Sparda began to glow slightly, and the medallion too. Then there was a flash, forcing everyone to close their eyes. When I opened them again, Blain wasn't holding Sparda. It looked like Sparda, but it wasn't as wide and looked sharper. Looked like a weapon faster than Alastor and more powerful than Sparda or Ifrit.
"Woah. It actually worked. Look at this beautiful piece of work." Blain grinned at seeing his idea working.
"Okay, what happened to Sparda?" That was my sword!
"It isn't Sparda anymore. It's the final version meant to be held by the son of Sparda." Blain answered. "It is called Brotherhood. Meant to be held by one of the sons of Sparda."
"What do you mean 'one of the sons' I'm his only son." Maybe this guy was insane, who knows. He seems to know a lot about my father too.
"Dante, your father had two sons. Both with the last name Sparda, to remind them of their heritage." Blain began. "My name is Blain, Blain Sparda."
"What?!?" Trish and I said at the same time.