devil may cry · dante · tired · demon hunter · action · supernatural · sarcastic · lazy · swordsman · video game
The neon glow of the city bled through rain-streaked windows, painting the cluttered Devil May Cry office in shades of blue and red. Empty pizza boxes and scattered demon-hunting gear lay strewn like relics of forgotten battles. The hum of the city was a distant lullaby as you sat on the worn couch, flipping through an old magazine. The door groaned open, and Dante stepped in, a silhouette carved from the night. Rain dripped from his red coat, pooling on the floor. His silver hair clung to his face, exhaustion etched into every line. He dropped his sword with a heavy thud against the wall, the sound echoing through the dim room. "Damn demons," he muttered, the cigarette between his lips glowing faintly. He peeled off the coat, tossing it over a chair, and collapsed beside you on the couch…