The run down part of the city boomed with activity, though not the friendly type.

Gunshots, inhuman roars and fleshy slicing sounds rang through the streets as Dante the devil slayer made his way back to his shop.

Dante swung Rebellion madly, something he didn't do often. His attacks were normally styled and smooth, but today was just too long for his taste.

His already crimson clothing was drenched with the blood of various demons who had come out of their hiding holes to attack him, despite it being mid day.

Now the sun was disappearing over the horizon, meaning that more powerful devils would emerge to make attempts on the demon slayer's life.

Dante growled as he unloaded what would've been twelve clips from Ivory into an approaching demon before dashing down the street.

Right now, his top priority was reaching his office. Thanks to Trish the Devil May Cry was outfitted with demon repelling sigils, giving Dante the chance to relax after a long day of demon slaying.

Dante watched as another demon fell to the ground, writhing in it's death throes. Between growls Dante heard some distorted words which he paid no heed to.

He had already heard the phrase nearly two hundred times in the same day, repeated at least once by every demon he had killed.

"Where is the son of Sparda?"

Another demon wailed in the middle of another street. Dante didn't care, only focusing on getting to his office.

He dashed past the street the devil was raging in, making a beeline for the shop. He quickly swerved to the right as a large claw carved into the wall next to him.

Dante acted swiftly, drawing Ebony and unloading fifteen bullets into the offending creature before continuing his sprint.

He heard the demon fall to the ground as he ran, but it didn't really matter to him.

Another demon erupted from the ground a few feet in front of the devil slayer, roaring as it emerged from the concrete.

"Where is the son of Spar-"

The creature was cut off as Dante holstered Ebony and drew Rebellion, embedding the claymore into the shoulder of the demon in one clean movement.

The devil was not deterred by the wound and pushed back against the blade in it's body.

Dante twisted the weapon and it emitted a loud hissing sound, reflecting it's master's frustration.

"Big mistake buddy. I'm really not in the mood!"

Dante ripped Rebellion from the devil's shoulder and wound back farther than was normally needed before unleashing the full force of his demonic frustration.

The area shook as Dante Triggered, sending the demon flying due to both the force of the trigger and the blade colliding with it's jaw.

The demon sputtered as it met a stone wall at the speed of a steam train, forcing it's spine from it's body and breaking every other bone.

Dante sheathed Rebellion and restarted his marathon sprint. He didn't even bother to deactivate his Trigger, as it would act as a repellant to any other demons.

And it seemed to work perfectly, allowing the devil hunter to make his way back to the Devil May Cry with relative ease.

The door of the shop exploded inward as Dante kicked it open before rushing in and slamming it shut.

He then proceeded to collapse on the floor, his Devil Trigger failing and reducing his form to normal.

He laid there a long stretch of time, even nodding off a few times despite the weapons digging into his back.

He couldn't get over how the demons kept demanding a son of Sparda.

He had been standing right in front of them, and they didn't seem to care. Some of them even ignored him, which was a rarity in of itself.

Eventually the stink of demon blood invaded Dante's nose and he levered himself off the floor in order to shower and wash his clothes to within an inch of their lives.

He contemplated calling for pizza, but that would end up getting the pizza guy, also known as Rob, murdered. He was going to have to deal with microwave food tonight.

Dante nearly melted in relief as he showered, making full use of the plastic chair he had moved into the bathroom for lack of a bathtub.

Trish had reprimanded him for his use of it back when he was depressed, but he found new respect for the plastic chair now that he wasn't in such a dark place.

After he had washed his skin of the demon blood, he threw his clothes into the washer and turned it to the "Apocalypse" setting.

Another perk of being a demon slayer is that he had the luck of killing a water demon, giving him a free possessed washing machine that had two extra levels of washing.

He just made sure to warn Patty not to touch it during her stay at the shop.

Now that he thought about it, Dante missed the little blonde. He would never openly admit it though.

The office felt empty now that Patty had gone off to live with one of her orphange friends, finding Dante's place too old timey for her.

Off course she thanked Dante and left him a few gifts that were too pink for his taste.

But now the shop was just quiet, save for when Dante felt lively and turned on the jukebox.

Dante watched as his clothes spun around in the washing machine at speeds that would shake apart normal washing machines. He grinned as he remembered the name of the demon washer, Alpheus.

Dante left his clothes to clean, instead retrieving some cup ramen from the pantry and putting it in the microwave. As he waited for the food to finish heating, he walked into the main office and sat in his chair.

The old wooden chair creaked a bit as Dante put his full weight on it. The old thing needed to be spruced up, but Dante was too lazy to learn how to fix old year '87 chairs.

He leaned back in the chair, taking up his usual leaned back feet on table position, sighing in relief.

He didn't even get up when the microwave dinged. He was just too tired to move.

He sat for a while, simply staring at the ceiling fan that spun slowly in the air. He felt more lonely today than he normally did, but it was nothing compared to when he was depressed.

He closed his eyes, preparing to just spend the night at his desk. That was until the phone rang loudly.

Dante jumped as the sound met his ears, ripping him from his stupor and putting him on high alert.

He gripped Rebellion, which he had leaned on the desk before pinpointing the source of the noise. He glared at the phone as he let go of Rebellion.

He lifted the receiver from it's resting place and moved it to his ear.

"Sorry, we're closed. Call back later."

He spoke with a little more venom in his voice than he meant before moving to set the receiver back down.

Them he heard something from it that made his skin crawl.

"Dante."

The devil slayer froze as his brain recognized the voice. Dante slowly moved the phone back to his ear as he moved his feet off the desk.

"Vergil?"

"127 West Avenue. Do not be late."

The line went dead was Dante processed what he just heard.

The receiver was set on the stand in what must have been the slowest movement that Dante has ever made.

He was either going crazy, or his dead brother found out how to come back from the dead.

Who was he kidding? For all Dante knew, Vergil clawed his way up the river Styx and flipped off the ferryman on the way. Probably just to spite him too.

Dante sat for a long stretch of time, his face covered by his hands. He was still trying to process exactly how his brother managed to come back from the dead.

He had done it with his own hands. His last battle with Nelo Angelo was confirmation that Vergil was gone, yet somehow he had gotten a phone call from him.

Maybe it was a demon trying to trick him? There was a good possibility of that, but what if it was Vergil?

Dante sighed shakily, removing his hands from his face and leaning back in his chair.

He glanced at the left side of his desk where a small drawer was located. He reached over with minimal effort and slid the compartment open.

Inside was a small black leather glove. A large slice in the material was in the palm of the glove, along with an old blood stain.

Dante reached in and lifted the glove from it's resting place. The leather was old and dusty, requiring a shake or two to rid it of the grime.

Dante stared at the glove, turning it over in his hand a few times.

What would he even say to Vergil? 'I'm sorry for leaving you in the underworld and then killing you later'?

Dante brought his free hand to his face and let out a sigh that held more tiredness in it than anything prior.

The washing machine dinged loudly, drawing Dante from his thoughts.

After a few minutes of emotional weighing, Dante lifted himself from the chair and moved to retrieve his clothes.

The washer gave off a comforting heat as Dante pulled his clothes from it, finding that it had also dried his clothes for him.

He gave the demonic machine a friendly pat before slipping on his clothes.

Dante walked out of the bathroom in a shaky stride, his mind riddled with questions and emotions that he couldn't quite identify.

He was nervous to face his brother again, especially after their last encounter.

Rebellion hummed as he lifted it from the desk, trying to comfort it's master the same way Alpheus had.

Dante was about to walk out of the shop when he stopped. He glanced at the worn leather glove again, giving the decision another hundred second thoughts.

He lifted the glove from the desk and pulled off the one already on his hand.

The leather of the glove gave a squeak as Dante slipped it on, showing how much the devil slayer had changed since then.

Dante went over the directions he had been given two more times.

127 West Avenue.

It wasn't too far from the office, being only roughly a half mile away. It made Dante even more suspicious. How would Vergil have known where the shop was in the first place?

Dante opened the door slowly before stepping out into the night.

The street lights hummed quietly in the strange fog that hung in the street, making Dante's shaking red coat even more noticeable.