Author's Note: This is just a one–shot I decided to write because I've sort of never done it before. I have NEVER done it before, to be honest. So this is my first, and it's nothing big, just a little bit about Dante somewhere around DMC. It doesn't matter if it's before or after, as long as you know that it's middle–aged Dante. I don't know if it's supposed to be serious, humorous or just normal. I have a tiny idea and I'll see where it leads me. Shortly summarised, Dante is on a visit in Las Vegas; he's in a casino, playing some card games. Dante messes up. Oddity ensues. PS: It's not funny. Really.

D E V I L M A Y C R Y

-- Devil Never Cry --

Texas Poker

"Place your bets, gentlemen."

The spectacle of one of the Las Vegas casinos is nothing that can be explained. The grand presentation of the very casino, the music, the food, bars, the tables, the slot machines, the drinks, the music, the show, the colours, the people, the girls, the boys, the devil hunters... hunter.

And with all right, it cannot be explained because you're not half–man half–devil, so you can't explain it because this is through the eyes of such an existence. And he's a devil hunter. So naturally one side chases the other; what a dilemma for this Dante. Dante, the great devil hunter who had defeated numerous beasts and saved the world just like is old man had done two millenniums ago, had been told that his mother had been a geek who named him after the author of The Divine Comedy. Of course this person had received a – though not fully earned – beating, but that's not the point of this story.

It's just there to mess with you.

So finding this Dante at this casino in this Las Vegas in his country of Taco Bell food, Coca–Cola drinks that teenagers use with pleasure to mix with vodka or other liquor was highly unlikely. He was supposed to have no spare time and just sit around his office day in, day out, with his legs crossed and rudely resting on his desk with empty bottles of beer lying about until someone stormed in and constantly broke something that belonged to him – one way or the other – attack him and insult him and stab and shoot and assault him beyond wits only to ask for help later.

And the stupid white–haired old retard falls for it every goddamn time. Whether it's because he doesn't want to sit in his cool position all day long or because he loves hitting on demons, none is sure. However, here he is now, in this casino. And he is at this time not wearing his usual leather–clothes which would naturally lose its charm if he used it for gambling purposes. Instead he's wearing a costume without a jacket. He wears black polished shoes, black trousers and a black shirt with a white tie. A black normal trench coat, a few hundred feet away from him is hanging somewhere.

It doesn't belong to Dante though.

So, joining in is the right thing to do, Dante assumes as he sits on the table and looks at his chips worth four thousand dollars. He is, along with three other gentlemen around his age, playing Texas Hold 'Em – No Limits. Dante, who of course knew only his sort of poker and Chicago, referred this as Texas Poker, while the others referred to this wonderful game as Texas Hold 'Em.

"Small blind", Dante whispers as the man to his right puts out chips worth fifty dollars. Dante decides to put out the big blind with a hundred dollars. The dealer gives the players two cards each. Dante tries to act like a pro and only merely peeks at his cards. He has an Ace and Queen of hearts. He doesn't smile, he doesn't grunt. He does nothing. The others call, but Dante bets an additional two hundred dollars. The others call except the one who sits to his left, who folds.

"Here comes the flop", the dealer announces. He looks at the cards; a pair of fours and a ten of hearts. Everyone checks.

The turn shows a King of hearts. Dante smiles; he can't help it, because he knows that a Jack of hearts will give him a Royal Straight Flush.

"Here comes the river..."

"Damn this casino and all its inhabitants to hell; may Beowulf bite their balls off", Dante mutters under his breath as the last card shows a seven of diamonds. Luckily for him, everyone checks, and he does the same. Whether it's luck or not, Dante would never know. But no one had anything on the table. No one has anything, at all, except Dante, who wins with Ace High.

Now Dante earns an additional twelve hundred dollars. He posts his small blind, the man to his left posts the big blind. They get their cards. He doesn't look at his cards until the others have, and calls. However, one of the men bets five hundred dollars worth of chips. Dante mumbles the word "impressive", and looks at his cards, now looking at a pair of Aces; Ace of Clubs and Ace of Spades.

Dante calls and raises with an additional five hundred dollars. One folds, the other joins in. Dante licks his lips; He's put out eleven hundred dollars on the table – he observes the dealer father the chips into one chunky, attractive pot – and keeps in mind that twenty–three hundred dollars are on the pot that aren't his.

The flop appears, showing a pair of nines and an Ace. It's looking good. Everyone checks, and the turn comes. It's a king. Now Dante is taken aback because one of the men bets five hundred and the other one calls and raises to eight hundred. Dante shakes his head and calls. The other man calls and raises to a thousand dollars. The man to Dante's right calls. Dante calls. The river card gives Dante the last Ace, and he knows that whoever thought he could win with a nice Full House – Kings full of nines, nines full of fours or fours full of Kings – now believes he has Kings full of Aces. The one who calls must be aware of this two; he has either four of a kind in fours or nines, but none seems to take in mind that Dante just might have the best hand of them all.

"And he's going all in!" the dealer exclaims as Dante puts all of his money in. The other two do the same. Everyone shows their cards, and the entire casino hears the part–demon's roar as he is in possession of a series of bunches of chips that sum up to a grand total of fifty thousand dollars.

If you wonder why Dante lives so shabbily, it's because he had to pay every single dollar, quarter, nickel, dime and cent to some thug gangster because he had illegally played Black Jack, betted Mary, – a.k.a. Lady – and lost.

But that's not true at all.

Dante is naturally an over–confident son of a legendary dark knight, so he walks over to another table with real professionals playing Texas Poker. He thinks he can win, but after five rounds he's in debt to the casino a whopping forty thousand and sixty dollars. But the person to save him is known to all of you. This person's trademark is performed on the casino. This person's name is... well, want to know the name? Devil May Cry!