Chapter 17 ~ Will of Evil

. . .

The inner city grew out of cracked sidewalks like the jagged black-toothed grin of an old junkie.

The only splash of color within this grime came from lurid graffiti, all manner of phrases inscribed on the walls.

Meanwhile, the sides of each street were littered with injection paraphernalia.

Though glorious in it's inception, the streets themselves were smooth black slabs, merged with such precision that the joints were almost invisible.
All the supports were concrete, akin to the construction of a modernist skyscraper, all it's corner-edges sharp and sleek.
The buildings were nothing short of monoliths, bastions of a city's pride, stamping its arrival on the map of financially significant places to trade with.
Yet, no one had communicated this vision to the citizenry. The street that should have been a joy to walk down was littered with garbage and the detritus of dogs.

Enjoying the crummy views would mean taking your eye off your shoes, and no one wanted to do that.

A man was on his way, but he couldn't help noticing the sound of something else following him close by.

'Relax, you're almost home,' He kept telling himself over and over again but it wasn't of any particular use. He was afraid.

From the darkness came the sound of heavy limbs dragging across the street ground. It sounded like a sickly gorilla, massive arms grinding. Either it lugged it's feet or carried it's arms low, scraping along.
Every once in a while would come a cracking noise like bone on wood, or what sounded similar. It was like a thick skull crashing into a tree trunk. The sickening crunches made the man's stomach flip.
This thing. . . Whatever it was, was neither graceful, lithe-ed, nor blessed with progressive thoughts. By chattering blue lips, trembling muscles crept slowly as there was no other option, not anymore.
He was about to run, the grumbling growing nearer and nearer.

Something green shifted in front of him.

The man stumbled backwards at the sight of it. It was a giant creature, one that was reptilian.

"Aah!" He cried at the beast, it's glowing red eyes looking like a crocodile's broaching the surface.

Razor claws accompanied black rags and dark green scales. It's massive, hunched-over back was adorned with spiked bones.
The jaw itself was hardwired to chomp down as fast as possible. The face above it was warped and wide, like a pancake. What a mug.
Inspiration doesn't come easily, but if the man was Dr Jekyll, this would be his perfect Hyde.

"Get back! Get back!" He screamed.

It just laughed in his face, this Lovecraftian nightmare a true reality for him. It's arms were larger than cars, dragging along the ragged concrete like steel horse corpses.

How and why? That was all he really wanted to know, the mere idea of a monster like this being a perverse contradiction of biology.

Closer and closer it came, Herculean strength cracking the stone beneath it. The mouth opened up, spanning an entire three feet when all the gum flaps unraveled.

A mechanical rumbling echoed through the dark as the smell of burning gasoline soon invaded their nostrils. A blinding headlight pierced the entity's eyes, a motorcycle fast approaching it.

A figure on the bike yelled to the man, "Get out of here."

Lady was in control, her physique bubbling with human hatred. She released her grip on the bike, and it came rolling forward into beast's hairy chest.
The man was barely able to roll away from the flame's reach. The entire thing went up in a ball of machine-hell, and the man barely escaped a flying tailpipe.
She landed with ease, her muscled legs made for this kind of stress. She turned to him again as she removed her helmet.

"Go!" She yelled, dropping her voice down three octaves.

But he was too stunned at the moment to realize what was happening.

"Move your ass. . ." She sharply criticized his slack jaw, and shot off an entire clip of rounds with her pistol.

The monster had been knocked off-guard by the exploding automobile in it's face, so the bullets managed to stagger it a good deal further, but that wouldn't last.

This was the cue for the man to run, go home and be safe.

The demon ripped off a flaming piece of motorcycle from it's torso and stared wildly, tongue hanging down an entire foot, and it's shoulders aflame, like a vision of hell.
Its snout and hands were scarlet, splashes of violent color against its sickly dark scute. Broken open from the crash, it's forehead hung the plated skin loosely, exposing what looked like a weakness.
She pulled Kalina Ann from her back and leveled her sights on her target. By the time she'd raised her weapon, she saw a spiral of white feathers floating down.
It was the trail of something powerful, a dark force that tore her demonic foe apart. It fell on it's face, bleeding. The man bolted off across the street, past this brutish incubus.

". . . What?" She whispered after a second of silence.

She gazed up at the source, and lo and behold, at the top-edge of the roof stood a tanned woman with vivid crimson hair, tucked in a reserved pony tail to the side. Still, bangs covered half her face.

"Who are you!?"

The woman was quiet at first, staying silent as she flung herself from the rooftop.
She landed with grace, releasing a shockwave as she touched the ground. She wasn't injured at all.

"I apologize. Miss. I didn't mean to take over your occupation." She spoke calmly, in somewhat broken english, "I came here for you, as I smell Dante all over you.
Can you please have lead me on for him?"

"Uh, sure. . . When did you meet him?" Lady requested the info for posterity's sake.

"Will, about two weeks or so," The girl replied, "We took a walk everywhere in the forest, then fought for the safe of my peoples-"

Lady closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. She let out a sigh as she returned to her bazooka, heaping it over onto her back.
Of course, she would have known that getting intimate with a man like that would mark her forever with the same luck as Dant-Vergil. Vergil.

"-Enough, enough, I don't wanna hear about your stupid picnic. His office is this way."

Lucia was surprised by the weird reaction, but a smile graced her polite face.

"If you are his girlfriend, relaxed. I will not steel your man." She said, placing her hand on her shoulder, "I wish to be his semantic on missions abroad. The case of strange wolves."

So confident, so. . . Incorrect. And that assumption.

Girlfriend? Oh lord, this girl was lost.

"I'm not-. . . We're not-. . . It's complicated!" She lashed out, "Just-. . . It's-. . . Gah, just- Keep going that way then take a right when you see a 'Stop' sign."

Lady matched her words with a finger pointed down the street, and continued, "When you get to the diner, go around left and it's in a backlot. You'll find it, the sign's like a christmas tree."

Lucia beamed a thankful smile, and Lady returned with a stilted grin.
She grit her teeth as she turned her head back. God, this day was really sucking.

Lucia actually smirked, "Oh, so I am incorrect?" The tone was teasing, "Farewell, Female."

Lady stood still looking at where Lucia's face used to be, remaining static as the visitor moved on to the shop down the road.

What a 'person. . .'

Lucia went towards what she thought was diner, believing the light to be what that Lady had spoken of.

A shift through the way air was flowing was followed by the light vanishing, simply clicking off before. This wasn't right. Their was a tall figure blocking her way.

"Raah! Welcome to Hell, my darling." It yelled at her, a strong male voice shifting to a clownish persona mid-sentence. The figure remained intense, as if to physically say he was ready for a big show, a kind of exhibition.

"Who are you!?"

He had a deep smile, the figure revealing himself as a twisted joker.

"It's raining, it's pouring
The Sparda child is losing
He went to bed and he bumped his head
And couldn't get up in the morning."

. . . In the stillness of the night, the voice of a terrified woman rung out, but no one was there to answer her. Rain can't soak what is not there.

. . .

Slowly and reluctantly, she uncovered her face. Blinking, she closed her eyes, resting them shut. Streaks of sunlight penetrate the window and were blinding her.
She sat up, dragged her feet off the bed, and rubbed her knuckles into her eyes. Patty stretched her arms high above her head and yawned. She watched as her legs dangle. . .

"Wait. . . This isn't my room!?" She murmured lazily. But then memories came back to her, the festival, all it's wonderful performers and the ambiance lasting for hours, perhaps until midnight or later.

Patty felt slightly freaked out when she didn't hear the sound of Vergil's snoring.

Wait, why was it so silent? Isn't he here? Did he leave her alone? The frantic ramblings of a child, but frantic nonetheless.

"Maybe he's just reading a book or something." Patty said, trying to reason with herself.

A moment later she heard the sound of footsteps moving about. Her chest relaxed.

Patty sighed, and looked at herself concerned, "Why am I afraid?"

She took a comb out of her pocket and started fixing her hair, and then she lifted it up in a clean bun.
Such as it was, she'd probably still need to grab a shower, but her hope was to do so back home with the other Patty.
They'd actually grown rather pleasant toward one another, in a genuine way.

Patty jumped off the bed and opened the door. There was still a sense of cooled air in the place, not too chilly, but just the right type of relaxing.
She wished she could go back under the blanket for a little bit, it was pretty snug, but sleep's over, she isn't the type to continue dozing till noon.

Slowly Patty descended the stairs and the moment she reached the open the door, she saw Dante sitting on his fancy chair. . . Legs lifted upon the desk.
He was drinking something inside a mug, it smelled like coffee, but her childish intuition suggested something else potentially. Still, best to go with coffee.

"Good morning!" She cheered with a smile.

He put his legs down and took a breath, "Hey there, did you have a good sleep."

He concerned himself with one of Dante's magazines, becoming fascinated by the mere way women could even get themselves in that position.

'Dante' quickly put the booklet away, opening a drawer lightning-fast, and plopping the magazine inside the compartment as fast as possible.

"What were you reading?" She asked, completely unaware.

"Nothing, nothing, just a-uh. . . Just an article on-. . . Sh-Shelubist. . ." He trailed off when he said it, keeping his voice low so she wouldn't hear.

"Oh, okay."

"Yeah. . . S-so, did you sleep well?" He quickly changed the subject.

She came over to the desk, "Oh yes! Best sleep I've had in a while!" How? She's only nine years old. . . "Did you stay up all night?"

Vergil gazed back at her as she took a seat on the other side of the desk.
He looked down at the desk, placing the mug off to the side. He wiped his eyes with his gloved-hand.

"Ah, don't worry about me, I don't need sleep. A little nap for a half hour is enough to give me strength." He answered casually, "Did you tell your caretaker about your whereabouts?"

Patty sighed, "Don't worry, I gave her a heads up."

Vergil crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at her, "What's with the tone, little one? Did something happen?"

"Not really. . . She didn't do anything to me, it's just. . . I still haven't fully forgiven her."

Understandable, what the kid went through isn't something easy.

"Is there a coffee maker here?" She asked, surprising him again.

"One: You drink coffee? And two: What do you think I've been drinking?" He asked with a slight smirk.

Yeah, it was remedied as easily as coffee, she knew not to overthink it. What else would he be drinking?
Patty couldn't help but smile at his reaction, not the first time somebody gave her that face. She did drink it though.
It'd become like an old friend, visiting every once in a while to give her a boost and yellow her teeth. Nothing some toothpaste and persistent youth couldn't fix.

"I know it's weird but it's a habit I picked up. I want some energy to get goin here."

Vergil shook his head, not liking this at all, but still pointed at the corner of the setting area, where the machine was placed.
Patty chuckled and went to make her odd breakfast. She made some noises, loud enough to get Vergil's attention again. He looked over to her, concerned.

"Do you. . . ? Do you know how to make coffee yet?"

Silly, he should have thought of that.

"Uh, I've never done it myself, but-" She tried to explain, but Vergil was already walking over when he interrupted.

"-Just step over, let me show you." He said, coming to her aid as he showed her all the steps.

It was so weird for her to have someone show her how to do something, no one at the orphanage showed her stuff like this, and her new guardian had enough money to afford servants.
So, it was a little interesting, not bad, but interesting still. He fiddled about with the can, showing her the proper amount to make a tasteful batch, and showed off the advent of creamer and sugar.
She could choose between both? Awesome. It was such a different experience.

"That's how it's done, then on most modern one's, you just press this button and wait. Got it?" He told her.

She nodded her head. He took her affirmation and walked back over to the desk.

"Okay, so. . ." He got situated, then remembered, "Do you still feel like playing poker with me?" He asked loudly.

"Oh yeah! I warn you though, I'm not an amateur player!" She laughed as she waited for the coffee.

Patty returned to the desk and asked him, "Where's the bathroom?"

"Down there," He pointed to his right.

Thunder came like the prelude to a great song, impetuous rumbling permeating the air every bit as much as the sudden rain.
At first it was a crack, violent to the ears, but after came a rolling of claps, the great rumbling sounds dissipating slowly into the surrounding hills.

"It's raining again? What's with the weather recently?" He heard Patty's muffled voice comment.

"I have no Idea, heat is supposed to return these next few days, right?" He replied monotone.

"I dunno, don't watch the weather report, but the city isn't known for being so rainy, that's why it's a bit weird."

The doorbell had a strangled sound, as though it's battery were drained. Just then, Vergil made a note to self: Get someone to fix that. He didn't want people barging in whenever they wanted.
Not that anyone would respect the 'doorbell code,' Lady seemed comfortable just walking in whenever she pleased, but it was still better this way.

"Come in." He said loudly.

Streaks of jagged white crackled against a stormy blanket of grey, shrouding hot silver clouds with its blinding incandescence, emanating the might of an imminent storm.
Barbed bolts endlessly protruded, filling the sky with blazing flashes of un-death. A woman entered, adorning a charcoal business suit and skirt. Her eyes were like embers, burning into him.
Some women just had that smoldering look, able to bring a normal man to his knees. Her hair was black, darker than any fabric, and richer than ebony.

The raven locks fell down to her back.

Leaving the harsh weather behind, the woman closed her umbrella and held it next to her bouncy hips.

"Hello. . ." Her monotonous voice made his eyes focus, "I'm the one who spoke to you on the phone."

He signaled her to take a seat. The woman was a bit tall, not as tall as Lady though. Her coat hid a built form, one that was thicker than most, but by no means less appealing.
Sitting down in the chair Patty once occupied, she chose not to look him in the eyes, so her expression was just flat. She crossed her legs, her black three inch heels revealing a stern mind.
It was all about the focus, the rest wasn't important. He had a feeling he'd get along with her, she had a similar air.

"Tell me what happened?" Vergil broke the silence.

"My boyfriend was a good guy, always took care of his job. Suddenly, he got an invitation from someone named 'King.'" The woman started telling her story, emotions slowly rising.

"King?"

The woman nodded.

"Rumors said that anyone who gambles with this guy ends up dead. No explanation why, they just. . . End. The way he looked at the end, he just. . . He wasn't even a man.
I tried to warn him to stay away, stop gambling but, it's like he became an entirely different person. He kept throwing his money away. He didn't have an addictive personality at all."

She paused, but managed to find the strength to say it, "Until he played a game with King, and lost."

Vergil laid back on the chair, thinking this through. This was a little bizarre, he didn't really get jobs like this, or so his brother's reputation told him.
It was more the idea that Dante's line of work tended towards beastly endeavors, or at the very least scumbag revenge. Maybe Vergil just didn't understand the business itself.
Could this be an actual demon, or the work of a witch? He didn't even know what the man's death looked like.

"The guy sent out an invitation to me. Only. . . It's for you. It said on the envelope to deliver it to you at this address." The woman continued and placed a small leather box on the desk.

It was relatively minor in size, not at all the type of thing that would be considered an 'invitation.'
The leather upholstery lost another day for him, it's peculiar pattern forever left damned to his understanding. What one couldn't understand, they couldn't see coming.
Not that he wouldn't be prepared, it looked like some cheap jungle trick. The room's dim lighting did little to mask the box's ornate craftsmanship.

"Hmm. . ." He reached out to the little thing, it's weight little more than a copper wire.

He looked it over, the ashes falling on and on in his head. Shaking it did nothing, and as Vergil's inspection dragged on, the woman was clearly disturbed by it.
What so special about it, was this man even okay? It's just a fucking box, open the damned thing. Somehow, he heard her thoughts as he did so, and saw a fancy looking card along with a pocket watch.
The reason he knew that he was stricken by the card was it's status as a joker. The head-tails, the warped, laughing face. . . Arkham. . . It bore a superficial resemblance, he wasn't entirely sure.

That settled it, he should see what happens here. Time to bust out his nonexistent card skills.

"We have an accord. My payment is one thousand, since it seems fairly straightforward." He was a little shocked at how formal that all sounded.

It just felt. . . Wrong, too complex. It felt rather convoluted coming off his tongue that way.
No no, no more of that, he wouldn't subject himself to that speech again, it bothered him too much.

The woman's face nonetheless brightened, like hope had come back. How little it took to please humans, they were like children at times, their basic principles so common and banal.

"Thank you."

Vergil scowled at his desk, then looked back at her with a thought, "What do you want me to do when I find him."

"If you find that King-bastard, I want him dead. . . I want his house burnt to the ground." The steely look in her eyes made all the difference.

Vergil swallowed, "You have my word."

She paid him in cash, taking out a wad of hundreds that she had been keeping in her purse since her boyfriend's death.
Then, she gave him a look at the picture of her flame from her smartphone. The sight was. . . Intriguing.

It looked like the man was still human only vaguely, his general appearance being one of filth and age. Gone were the vestiges of human understanding, twisted and warped by greed.
The physical body was somehow degenerated into someone impossibly old, his eyes round crystals of unending stares, the flesh that held being corrupted and brown.
Atop the man's head, his hair had fallen away, leaving only a few strands of brown behind to hang like corpses off the side of the skull. His weight had gone down, to the point of visible bones.
It looked like a skeleton that merely wore another man's flesh, the sinew unnervingly small, though still there.

His finger nails had become long, wretched talons, as brittle as they were razor sharp. The teeth of that gallows-smile were yellow and crooked, their ends sharpened by damage.

Vergil took in the imagery without breaking a sweat, he'd seen far worse done to humans, and far more gruesome sights from non-humans.
The general feeling he got from the man's appearance was that something had been worsening his health, though what it was he didn't know.

"How did you not know something was wrong?" He couldn't help but ask.

"He came home from a game looking like that." She pulled up a different photo and showed him, "That's what he looked like directly before."

The image showed an underweight, but still handsome man, looking pale and with dark circles around his eyes.
Hardly the same figure as before, he wasn't sure what was a capable of reducing a man down like that.

"I see. He came home like that? I remember you told me he passed shortly after. . . Now I know why." Vergil swirled thoughts around in his mind.

She nodded at him. They didn't need anymore words, her eyes said it all. She gave him a look of gratitude and walked on, while Vergil sat as his desk.
When she got to the door and turned back, he returned her same recognition. The door opened, and that haunting chill returned, the rain nearly getting into his office.
The bell jangled as it closed, the office was quiet for several minutes more.

Staying as he was inspired no confidence, he just kept on looking over the box, looking for anything beyond mortal sight. Sadly none were found, so he gave up his search for the last time.

Patty walked out, slowly, watching the woman's silhouette vanish from view through the front door window.

"Who's that?"

"A client. I'll be leaving for a job in a couple hours. You'll. . . Have to come with me as well." He knew arguing wouldn't work, and he wouldn't dare leave her here alone.

He knew it'd be reckless if he brought her along, but it would be what's best for the moment.
If only that woman weren't soul-searching, Lady could take care of her without issue. Of course, he didn't want to offend her with a sexist job proposal of looking after a young one such as Patty.
God, human interaction was so skull-splitting-ly difficult, he was sure he couldn't deal with this any longer if it got worse. He knew it would, but he supposed there was a challenge there.

He left his chair and went to get a drink for himself. He knew it would do him no good, but a shot of Absinthe was he required this moment.
The bottle was green, and it was one of Dante's joke-buys. It had a label that read 'Absinthe: The drink that makes you want to kill yourself.'

Charming.

Patty felt a gelid zephyr, as if the front door was left wide open. At first Patty found it hard to pin-point why she felt so unsettled, but then she heard a voice.

Something was calling out to her. She saw the box at the desk, something about it was alluring.
Like she was moving in her own, she opened the box and gazed upon the golden pocket watch.

She couldn't take her eyes off it, for some reason. Ignoring the foreboding character to the watch, her hand closed around it and her head bowed down immediately.

"It shouldn't be dangerous, not with me there. I think you'll enjoy the change of scenery." Vergil commented after finishing off the bottle.

There was a sudden sound, it was something slamming on the ground. He glanced back at the source.
The coat rack was down on the floor. The little girl was holding his katana, unsheathed and admired.

"Put it down, child." His stark voice returned, along with scorn-filled eyes.

He took a step toward her after quickly noticing the watch around her neck.
That's what the problem was. . . He knew something felt off, it just wasn't the box.

"A game. Let's play a game, Dante." Her voice was low and chilling, far beyond her range, "Are you going to die, or am I?"

She plunged the blade forward.

Vergil's eyes remained stern as he darted forward to the girl. He tapped her forehead, and she fell out of it.
The slayer caught her unconscious form on one arm before she had the chance to hit the ground. Yamato was stuck in his backside, blood seeping down on the ground.
He forgot how much his own blade hurt, he hadn't felt it's steely grip in quite some time.

"Well, that's special. . ." He grumbled as he removed the glowing pendant from her neck.

"Hmph. . ." He took the watch and carried her to the couch.

He took a breath before grabbing the hilt. Damn, she got it in there pretty far. In a short, but excruciating five seconds, he pulled the blade out, having to take two motions to do so.

The floor'll need a cleaning after this. Damn it. He summoned the hilt with a snap, and sheathed the blade.
He then banished the weapon, and took care as he inspected the peculiar watch, it's golden curves unnaturally perfect.

Something was seriously wrong about that watch, there wasn't a doubt. He didn't know what yet, but there was just something fundamentally incorrect about it.
A thing like that shouldn't exist, and it's only a pocket watch. Was he losing his mind or was this some kind of 'Sparda-istic intuition?' Only time would tell.

Patty stirred slightly as she opened her eyes. Once her vision cleared, she looked around, then leapt from her seat.

She flew off the surface behind the couch's corner, and huddled herself in a ball. She was trying to hide, to become invisible.

"I'm- I didn't-. . ." Her warm voice held pain, emotionally, "I'm would never do that. . . ! I heard these voices, I couldn't-"

"-It's alright. You're okay." The man interjected as he approached her, "I know."

"Huh?" She looked up at him.

Once more, she saw that usual half-smile-smirk looking down at her. It was one of those signature aspects of 'Dante,' an immutable quality of safety.

"I think you just solved the mystery for me."

"What!?"

Vergil took a seat on the couch next to her, "Listen carefully."

. . .

He didn't really need directions to the casino. It was hard to miss, huge fluorescent lights spelt out, 'Vegas Lights.'

"There it is!" Patty pointed.

Time to park. Vergil didn't need a car, but Patty did. Rather than subject her to a ghastly, life-scarring visage, he would much rather drive for her sake.
It'd been a while, but he managed to get the hang of it after some time. That didn't stop a few mishaps, but the two of them just kept riding on, burning gas and lifting latches.
The weather was turbulent to put it mildly, but thankfully, Vergil had obtained an old-school Cadillac, the giant boat of a vehicle providing more than enough room.

Patty had stretched out in the repaired back, the entire thing a little haven to hang out.

She kept looking out the side window as Vergil kept himself focused, so she could at least see where the place was.

Once they'd found a spot, he locked the doors and put the key in his jacket pocket.

The two walked through the huge doors, and immediately it felt like another world.
Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head once they got inside, the entire ceiling a huge example of castle vaults.
It was like walking into the venetian, albeit without the extravagant river running through it's grand halls.

It was ginormous, huge golden chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, all sorts of slot machines and glitzy games accompanied by old and young men that looked like they used hundreds as tissue.

"Oh that is fancyyy. . ." She murmured.

"Damn right- I mean, yes of course." Vergil replied, he held her hand and kept going, "This way, ya know the deal right?"

Patty's hands trembled slightly, her expression speaking volumes, "I don't know, it's scary. There's so many people here."

"No it's not, I'll be fine." He assured her with a confident smile, "Just keep that brooding face intact, and it'll work. I can check in and get a room if you want, you want to stay there?"

"No, no, I'm fine! I want to see the action!"

The more Vergil thought about it, the more he realized it might be a good idea to have Patty stay safe in a room.
Her defiance of this would only make her unhappy, and that was something he didn't want hanging over him.

"All right, if you say so." He said as he stood and turned to walk off, "Just remember there might be somethings you never wanted to see."

She stood there with her face a little bit worried, but then hurried after as she realized he hadn't taken her hand again.
The two kept going until they met a man with slicked hair in a purple dress shirt with a black vest and rolled up sleeves. He greeted them at the doors to a room marked 'King's Place.'
Must be the right place.

"Hey, whoa, no kids allowed buddy. No one under 21." The man said putting a hand out to block Patty from his face.

"Are the Maitre D?" Vergil asked.

"Yeah? Did you hear me or not?" He said.

The slayer smirked as he walked up to the manager and stared down at him. His eyes intensified to a crimson and he spoke in a gravelly tone.

"I heard you say you would make special accommodations for my companion." He said, continuing, "Now, open the doors."

He stood there, weirded out, but resisted Vergil's tactic somewhat.

"Uh- Uhm. . . No. You'll need to take her home or put her in a suite. I can't make any exceptions, I-"

Vergil cut him off with a shift of his face, the structure changing for a private showing his triggered physiology. Others walking by felt nothing and saw nothing.
The man choked on air as he saw the Devil's true eyes, and knew refusal was impossible. It was a technique Vergil liked to call 'Soul Burn.'

"You're becoming a bother, little man. Open. . . The Doors."

"Y-Yes sir." The man said, suddenly amenable, his deep voice remaining so as his mind felt entranced to do thy bidding.

They were led through to a room, where three other's waited as staff set up a poker table, and a fourth one who would be giving them the cards.

Patty tugged his hand, "That was cool, how did you do that?"

"You just have to be assertive, you know?" He said.

"All right, you I need a table for the little girl right here, get her anything she asks for, good?" The man who'd stood in their way told an asian worker.

He gave the thumbs up response, so the man nodded his head and came over to the duo like a waiter.

"Okay, I'm getting her set up, anything else you need?" He asked.

The man was roughly 5'8, but rugged. His facial hair was black and groomed well into a stylistic beard.
His manners were unprecedented following that incident, and his treatment of them had softened dramatically.

"Yes, what's your name?" Vergil said.

"Ah, Tony."

"Hmm, well Anthony, come find me after the game. We're set for now." Vergil replied.

"Gotcha, gotcha. . . Okay, have a great game." The man said as he gave them two thumbs up, then walked off to resume guarding.

"Being assertive got that guy to be nice?" Patty whispered.

"It's all in the reflexes." He told her, and she just looked at him without a word.

Her area was set up and she sat up on a large bar chair, and her legs just dangled around. A man dressed in black help-garb came to her and asked what she wanted.
As she told her, Vergil had taken a seat on the open chair left for him and observed the other players. Each was seedier than the last, the perfect kind of casino-crawlers.

There was a beautiful woman to his left, clad in a low-cut red dress, "They call me lucky Amanda."

She looked at Vergil seductively, because of course she would.

Next to her was an elderly man wearing glasses, and his beard was thirteen metaphorical feet long, "Name's Chris, so they call me Kringle."

The man on the opposite of Vergil introduced himself.

"Golden-arm Joe."

They looked to him for a response. Staring around, he just said it sarcastically.

"Devilish Dante."

The game started, and the first few rounds saw conservative betting, the players testing each other's strengths and weaknesses, everyone waiting for the others to make the first mistake.

Almost as if in agreement with this strategy, for the first half hour nobody had any real winning hands, it all going down to who had the highest value cards.
Vergil was the first get anything worth a buck, and it was just a pair of two. The pot was small during that round, nobody bet much. Beyond some few quite moments, everyone was talkative at this point.
During the tenth round, however, there seemed to be some unspoken agreement that everyone chose to abide by.

Right off the bat, all three suddenly had working hands.

Dealership had been passing steady with Joe starting in the first round and the next player over dealing cards the next round and so on and so forth.

The room was nice enough for this that the others barely noticed anything potentially wrong.
There didn't seem to be, Vergil was counting on there being nothing. He had a feeling the danger came elsewhere.

It was now Kringle's turn to deal, giving each player five cards face down, before putting the deck neatly next to him on the table and picking up his own hand.

Since he was the Dealer, Lucky had first bid. She was noticeably smirking, but then again she'd been doing that the whole time so far, even when she had nothing.
Everyone was wondering where she was gonna take them, what move she would make. The entire ideal of the game was predicated on deception.
She raised the stakes a bit, everybody having bid no more than 2k. This round, Vergil took a small stack of chips before him and tossed them into the middle while saying, "I bid three."

"Hmmm. . . Interesting." Joe smirked.

Things got quiet for a bit.

Finally, Amanda broke the silence.

"This, this is gonna be fun." She showed her cards and the group collectively sighed.

All for now, thank you for reading.

And I'm off for awhile.

Maybe I overreacted a bit, but it's just I've been tired recently ' Creative exhaustion.' Reading that review made me explode.

Thank you everyone and I hope you liked this sweet chapter. There is more to come, I promise. It's far from the end.

..

Thank you Turbo Sexaphonic, it's just a comment about a photo, no problem. I did not like it that much either.

It's that reviewer been a bitch about it, and I felt like I'm losing it. . .

..

Angel Wolf here, just saying that Lilian's going on an extended hiatus for a little while so this is where this story ends for now. A bit of a shame, but it's just the way things are right now. This particular chapter was influenced by the songs 'Lady Evil' by Black Sabbath, and unsurprisingly, 'Bat Country' by 'Avenged Sevenfold.' We wanted a different approach for this, and that's what we were trying out as we both worked on it.

I hope you enjoy it, for what it is.