Disclaimer: Anything that's copyrighted in this story is not owned by me.
Joe: I'm back! Those of you who were lured in by the summary will be getting what was promised. This is going to be a series of get rich-quick schemes devised by Dante. Yes, I know that it's a huge change from "Yet Another DMC Parody," but I think that it'll work. Those of you who are wondering what the hell the "Joe" up there was for should read my profile. Click on my pen name and all will be explained.
I'm rating this K+ because of small amounts of violence. Think I'm under rating it? Any kid too young for a small amount of violence shouldn't have played a Devil May Cry game in the first place. And, Fan fiction doesn't allow people under 13 to join anyway.
Enough blabbering, let's get on with it.
Ch. 1: The Bank
Dante Sparda was truly and utterly frustrated. His bills weren't working out the way they should be, due to the lack of demons. Less and less of them were being sighted, maybe they realised that if they kept quiet, they won't be decimated by Dante. Dante cursed them, they weren't created to realise anything, they were only there, in Dante's opinion, to make him money. They always seemed to do the opposite of what he wanted them to do.
At the moment, Dante is pacing up and down the front room to the Devil May Cry, muttering profanities. The Devil May Cry wasn't doing well either. There were holes in the roof, unskilfully repaired with wooden boards. Where they were too bad, a pot or pan was placed underneath it.
His sidekick, Trish, was working by the typewriter, a serious look plastered to her face.
"This doesn't look good, Dante" she said grimly.
Dante's face hardened.
"Well, what the hell am I supposed to do, woman!" he barked.
Trish sniffled and went back to her work. Dante was getting more and more irritated and Trish's constant stating the obvious wasn't helping. This was the umpteenth time that he had yelled at her today, he really wasn't bothering to hold back any anger.
An idea sprung to his mind. He had heard of people managing to get out of messes like this with brilliantly planned get rich-quick schemes. He was cunning enough for that, wasn't he? Of course he was. He was going to be sitting on a pile of money before the month was over, he was sure of it.
But, first, he had to get started off with a little help.
"I'm off to the bank, if I'm not back in two hours start a search," he stated casually as he kicked open the door and walked out with a grin on his face.
Trish pretended that she couldn't hear him.
At the bank-
Dante swung open the mahogany doors and stepped inside. Something was wrong, though. Everything was quiet. Not that he expected the bank to be a huge, exciting hive of fun, but it was still too quiet.
He walked through the entrance hallway and peered inside the main building, to find his worst fears confirmed.
There, standing at the counter, was a man pointing a gun at the lady behind it. Standing just a few feet away from him was another man with a gun, most likely taking a lookout.
A vein became visible on Dante's head. Not now, not on his time. He didn't give a damn if they robbed the bank at any other time, but not now. They had to go.
He stormed over to the first man, with a huge temper, visible to anyone that saw him.
The lookout noticed him.
"GET ON THE GROUND, NOW!" he roared.
Dante took no heed to this sudden outburst and continued walking towards him. A bead of sweat broke from the man's forehead. Being half-demon, Dante could smell fear. This man was amateur.
"I SAID GET ON THE GROUND!" the man said again.
Dante sighed heavily and kept on going. He was three paces away from the man when the man snapped.
He fired three rounds of bullets from his pistol.
There was a silence in the room, everyone, including the man at the counter, was staring at Dante, waiting for him to drop.
Dante sighed a second time and reached for his holsters. Nothing there but empty space. Dante's eyes widened: in his haste he forgot to bring Ebony and Ivory. Damn it. He would have to go hand to hand.
Dante took another step forwards and everyone gasped. The man yelled and emptied his gun on Dante, falling down in the process.
Another vein popped on Dante's head. The bullets were more annoyance than threat, but it was the thought that counts. He picked the man up by the scruff of the neck and pressed him against the wall.
"Listen, dope, I'm not sure that your tiny little brainstem managed to comprehend this, but I'm in a bad mood and it'd be a good idea the stay outta my way!" he growled.
He let go, sending the man onto the ground. With a shriek, the man crawled away, and when at a safe distance, ran as fast as he could. Dante turned towards the other man. The man followed suit, shrieking and running off, throwing the bag of money into the air behind him.
The whole room was silent again as Dante walked up to the counter. The lady behind it shrunk up against the wall. Dante looked mildly embarrassed.
"Erm… I'd like to apply for a loan…please?" he said slowly, as if unsure of what he was saying.
With a shriek, the lady ran for her life. Though, in her haste, she ran right into the nearest wall, knocking her out.
……
……
……
"Oookay?" Dante commented.
He shrugged his shoulders and tried the man to the next counter. When Dante asked him if he could apply for a loan, he didn't run off screaming, luckily enough.
"A l-loan? R-right t-t-this way, s-sir!" he stuttered, indicating the door to his right.
Dante walked casually through. As soon as he left the room, everyone inside sighed with relief.
Dante spent the next half hour in a waiting room, sitting on the most uncomfortable couch he had ever sat on, waiting for his turn to walk through a second door. On the other side of it, a mother was sitting pressed up to the very edge of the chair, holding her child in paranoia. Every now and then she would chance a nervous glance at Dante, then clutch her child tighter. The edge of the couch looked as if it were under strain from the pressure being forced upon it. The other occupant of the room was called by intercom into the next room. The woman's eyes bulged; she obviously wasn't keen on being left alone in the same room as Dante.
When the half hour ended, and the terrified woman had left, Dante walked through and found himself in an office. On the table was a name holder. It read: David Harrington. At the moment, David Harrington was showing the mother out.
When she had left, Harrington turned towards Dante.
"Mr. Sparda, I take it?" he stated, holding out his hand to Dante.
Dante looked at the hand for a while, choosing not to shake it. He only shook hands with people he trusted.
Harrington wrinkled his nose. He was a man of high standing and did not take to bad manners. Though he acted like an old man, Dante judged him to be somewhere in his thirties. He had greying brown hair and blue eyes, with a hint of wrinkles around his eyes.
Harrington clasped his hands together.
"Shall we get to business then?" he queried.
Dante grunted in response and plonked himself down on the small chair. Harrington sat down on his and turned towards his computer. Dante waited while the sound of hurried typing filled the room. After a few minutes Harrington spoke.
"It looks like your in a spot of trouble here, Mr. Sparda" he stated.
Dante narrowed his eyes.
"I know that. I didn't come all the way over here for some stuck up oldie to tell me what I'm doing wrong" he rudely pointed out.
Harrington blinked. He had the patience of a saint.
"Quite, Mr. Sparda. If so, then what is the purpose of your visit?"
"To get a loan"
Harrington looked surprised.
"A loan? I'm afraid I can't do that. According to this, you don't have the assets to pay back a loan"
Dante's narrowed eyes changed to eyes of a worried man.
"Then, what'll I do? My house is falling apart around me, and business isn't doing well either!"
"Yes, that brings up a question. You failed to mention what exactly it is that you do" Harrington asked.
"I hunt demons" Dante answered simply.
Harrington raised an eyebrow.
"I think I see your problem, Mr. Sparda" he said "all you need to do is get a new job, not that I'm sure demon hunting is… such an exciting job. Good day, Mr. Sparda."
Dante was hurriedly shown out of the room. Dante stood outside the door for a while.
"Damn…I'm not quitting my job…I'll get rich, he'll see…"
And with that he walked out.
Outside, the police were trying to get answers out of the people who were involved with the robbers. Not that anything was stolen, but these robbers had robbed one too many banks and were infamous around the area. The only answers that they could get out of the shocked people was that "a man in red with silver hair had stopped the robbery", which was preposterous. The police chief grunted, grabbing the attention of a nearby cop.
"Looks like they got away again."
The cop nodded.
"Not unless these people are telling the truth, that man supposedly spooked 'em good."
The chief snorted.
"I seriously doubt that, these people look unhinged, maybe we should…"
He never finished that sentence, because at that moment, Dante walked through the bank door, ignoring the police "DO NOT CROSS" tape. The chief coughed loudly and waddled up to Dante.
"Are you the man that stopped the robbery?" he enquired.
Dante looked troubled.
"You mean, those amateurs inside are actually considered robbers?"
The police chief coughed a second time, this time louder.
"Amateurs? Those men are responsible for multiple robberies and several deaths!" he rasped,
Dante shrugged his shoulders and strolled on. The chief struggled to keep up, but managed to halt Dante.
"The police force are in debt to you, sir!" the chief said "is there anything you need, we'll do it!"
A smile broke across Dante's face.
"I'm a little low on cash" he stated casually.
The police chief looked a little embarrassed.
"You've got us at a bad time, the police force are down on funds at the moment…" he trailed off.
With a heavy sigh, Dante stormed off, just as rain started to fall.
When Dante reached home, his mood hadn't changed. Even worse was the fact that he was ringing wet.
"Are we rich yet?" Trish announced as he walked in the door.
Dante glared at her.
"Shut up, woman!" he barked angrily, slamming the door behind him.
There was a loud bang as the door shattered.
"There, happy now?" Trish barked back.
Dante cursed under his breath and sat down on his chair.
He was seriously annoyed. Harrington hadn't helped anything. And, before he had shown Dante out, gave Dante his card and told him that he should call if nothing improves. Just what he needed! A stiff man to tell him that his job isn't good enough! Dante would show him…
Dante suddenly stood up, knocking over his desk. He ignored the sound of the wood smashing against the ground. He had an idea…an idea that would land him on a large pile of money. He would devise a plan to end all plans, and by the end of it, the money will be rolling in.
"I Dante, son of Sparda-" (lightning flashes outside) "will not rest until I have devised a cunning plan, one which will make us rich!"
Trish was too dug into a book to pay him any attention.
With a laugh, Dante bounded up the stairs to start his plan.
This chapter was really just an ice breaker. Nothing especially exciting happened. But, the get rich quick schemes will start from next chapter on. I'm not going to be picky. One review is all I care for at the moment, then I'll get started. The one review is to show that someone has read it. From then on, review if you wish. I'm doing this for the craic, not anything else. (If you don't know, craic (pronounced "crack") means fun, or sport). I'll be updating soon.