Note: Prologue and epilogue are in third person view while the rest of the story is in Dante's POV. Also, Dante's thoughts are in italics and are inside apostrophes. 'Example.'

Chapter One: Prologue

It was a rainy night that day in the slums. Devil Never Cry had been out of work for two weeks in a row now. Dante and Trish had started to auction useless junk like a broken toaster and half a pool table to get some extra cash. And before the two jobless weeks, the only jobs they got offered were little ones that Trish could handle on her own. That night, Dante went to the fridge to see what leftovers he could find.

"Goddamn, if this continues I'm gonna consider retiring…" He whispered.

Meanwhile, Trish sat on the sofa with her legs crossed looking at the roof and counting how many times the old, wooden floor creaked with Dante walking around in the kitchen.

"Hey Dante, how 'bout we start selling some stuff on eBay?" She asked curiously.

"Well how about we get a computer first?"

Dante got annoyed every time Trish asked him a stupid question out of pure boredom. Not being able to find anything in the fridge; he slammed it shut and walked the creaky road to his desk. He crossed his legs over the table and relaxed on the chair. Trish smirked at Dante's grumpy attitude and stared at him.

"Didn't find any leftovers?"

Dante sighed and faced upwards with the back of his neck hanging down before answering.

"What do you think? Why don't you make yourself useful and go get me a pizza at Joe's?"

"Jeez, take a chill pill while I'm gone too, will ya?" Trish jokingly added before leaving.

'Yeah whatever, now shut the fuck up and go.'

Dante mocked her for a while before he got bored again. After ten grueling minutes of complete boredom; Dante heard a knock on the door. Being an automatic logic machine, he knew it wasn't Trish or she would've just come in. He hoped it was a job. The only down side was that people came to him personally only when it was a big save-the-world job—and he wasn't in the mood for that right now.

'I just hope it's not this month's bill or something…'

When he opened the door, he was surprised at what he saw. It was a man in a maroon coat, with big glasses and a nicely combed hair. He had a red tie in a white shirt with thin, gray lines and was in his mid-40s was standing in front of him.

"What do you want?" Dante asked menacingly.

"Can I go inside? It'll only be ten minutes, I guarantee it." The man replied, seeming not to have been intimidated by Dante.

Dante let the man in. He set his watch to alarm chronometer to tell him exactly when ten minutes had passed.

"Spill the beans 'cause the clock is ticking."

The man patiently sat down on the sofa and looked at Dante before he began to speak.

"My name is Johns Harvard. I am a journalist, and I'd like to write a story about you." The man introduced.

"Why would a journalist be interested in a poor man that lives in the slums?"

"How many slum inhabitants have a red neon sign that reads Devil Never Cry?"

"What makes you think this isn't a nigh club or a bar?"

"Well…it certainly doesn't look like one."

'Get the hell out old man…'

"Get to the point; you have exactly eight minutes left." Dante remarked.

"Fine, relax. I just want a short interview with you and it'll be on the Daily Informer tomorrow morning at ten."

Dante arched an eyebrow.

"And the interview is about…?" He questioned curiously.

"Tell me sir, what do you know about demons?"