Walking through the bustling streets of Water 7, seeing all different varieties of folks and fellas, Dante couldn't help but admire the peacefulness of this place. He figured it would be nice to spend some time here in the future.
Everyone seemed so... jolly? It was an odd feeling, though maybe he was experiencing emotional whiplash after going from an intense standoff in a gothic castle with the ever cynical Vergil to calm strolls through town squares on sunny days, with bright clear skies.
On the subject of town squares though, perhaps it would do him good to do some shopping. Of the clothing variety, specifically. Sure, the outfit has practicality, but in terms of pure stylish factor? It's mediocre. And that isn't allowed for a stylish man like Dante.
When one is presented with the dilemma of what to do when faced with absence of fashion, the only real option is to follow your heart. And Dante's heart sung when he saw a familiarly crimson coloured pair of pants on the window of a clothing store.
As a man of culture, and of great respect for his predecessor, Dante knew what he had to do. Scraggy clothes don't mean shit in the face of Dmc1 Dante's outfit.
Though, admittedly it took a few minutes to locate the right gloves, Dante could happily say that he was feeling reinvigorated leaving the clothing shop. 'Now I'm suiting the Red Devil moniker', he thought to himself, shuffling the buckles along his vest. Now he stood out like quite the sore thumb.
He wasn't sure if he was a big enough target that people would come after him on the streets, but he also wasn't sure if the Marines would even be able to bring him in if they tried. It was a question of if they were willing to invest the firepower, and possibly harm innocent civilians.
Then again, from what he's seen so far the authority here hardly cares. At least they had the decency to try assassinate him in less populated places, that certainly seems like something that goes a long way for them.
In the end, he'd stick to his guns. Anyone attacking him with malicious intent, or intent to kill, is being dealt with. Full stop. It's a dog eat dog world out there, and unfortunately Dante couldn't change that. Yet.
Still, with his spontaneous shopping trip now dealt with and the fashion in the bag, it was time for Dante to fulfill his promise of securing the SS Deadweight. God, he really needs to think of a better name. He can't exactly call it the Devil May Cry, that's just cheap. Wouldn't fit a boat either.
Well, to do that he needs money. Something once more Dante found himself lamenting the lack of in his pockets. 'Is it some kind of cosmic joke? Am I cursed to be forever broke? Where do I even get money, do I turn myself in?'
Dante admittedly had a lot of questions but a sore lack of answers to them. He'd keep that idea of turning himself in for the cash on the back-burner, 'that has potential' he thought.
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Mayor Iceburg's mansion was certainly a sight to behold. A large, opulent building of marble and other lavish materials, Dante found himself entranced by the sight. He couldn't imagine living in one, though. Too much empty room, not enough people to fill it.
Walking over to the door, he began knocking on it, several raps a second as he waited patiently for someone to answer. There was no answer. Confused, he knocked again, still receiving no answer. Did they move out?
The answer was no. Dante had walked to the house of a man who was in the middle of a working day, relaxing in his company building. Instead of approaching the boat building company, he had used his galaxy brain and come to the conclusion that another home invasion was the correct option.
Sighing in astonishment to his own stupidity, Dante performed a walk of personal shame over to the Galley-La building to introduce himself to some contractors, and hopefully get to work on the Deadweight. 'Soon', he thought, 'Soon I shall have my own ship. Then, I'll be a real pirate. Probably should've just taken a Marine ship at this point, but eh.'
He definitely should've just taken a Marine ship. A simple repaint is much less expensive than ordering a new boat to be made from scratch. How foolish, as always.
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Having finally located the Galley-La building after dealing with several civilians screaming upon him asking them a kind, regular question, Dante was sufficiently annoyed.
All he wanted was a boat, but now he's being treated like the Devil, and people won't stop running away from him. Was he that infamous? Surely not, it's only been a couple days by now since his 'crimes' happened.
Actually, no he definitely was, he wouldn't be surprised if the World Government had put his wanted poster on bathroom mirrors just to make sure people knew who to hunt down.
Sighing again, something he was beginning to notice was becoming a habit, Dante rapped his knuckles against the front doors of the Galley-La building, eager for some business.
He was greeted by a very average-looking worker, one who seemed to be very low on the corporate chain and was most definitely recognising him given the slight choking of their breath.
"Hey there, pal. You happen to know where I can find the man in charge round here?"
"Ups-stairs. Uhm, I'm sorry s-sir, I'm afraid you c-can't go there without permission." The poor man was slowly becoming white in complexion, and Dante was now becoming concerned. He didn't exactly look scary, in fact he'd call himself very visually pleasing, so -ah.
"Sorry about that. You know how guns are, people see them and get scared. I mean really, I'm just a guy trying to protect himself. Now, that aside, mind getting me in contact with the big man? I got an offer he just can't refuse."
Dante of course was bullshitting through his teeth, but it didn't hurt to tell a white lie every now and then. His shame was already leaking after he had left Coyote on his back without realising, so he figured possibly being caught out on a lie wouldn't matter now.
"I c-can ask for an appointment, but thats a-all sir." The desk worker was becoming less fidgety after the gun had been removed from his vision, thankfully.
"Look, can't you just get him on the phone or something? I figure he'd want to at least talk with me. He can't be that busy, all he does is make boats."
"I'll try." The worker pulled a telephone snail out of his pocket, something Dante was still in awe of considering snails were the main communication device of this world, and eventually managed to get on the line with a higher-up, Iceburg's secretary Khalifa. The conversation was brief.
"I'm s-sorry sir, but it seems they can't m-make time for you." Dante sighed.
"What's your name, pal?"
"Rachis, sir. Rachis Gubry."
"Well, listen here Rachis. Quite frankly, I'm sure your employer has much less important things happening right now, so I'm just gonna walk over and introduce myself to him. Okay?"
Rachis nodded in reluctant understanding, totally incapable of going against Dante's demands. There wasn't any intimidation in his tone, nor was he trying to be threatening. It was as though he simply wanted to get this over with and didn't care for the consequences.
And so, Dante once more broke into and entered a home. A character-defining act, it seems, as if his limited intellect wasn't enough already.
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The moment the doors to the office were opened, Dante was met with confusion and hostility, though the amount from Khalifa far outweighed that of Iceburg. Dante had to admit, the man had a good choice in secretary, considering Khalifa had that dominatrix vibe to a tee. Iceburg himself certainly knew how to dress, and-
"Is that a fucking mouse in your pocket?"
"Excuse me? If you have such childish enquiries then I am sure you could have simply waited for an appointment, but you have no right to be here. Leave now." Khalifa's tone was harsh, and in finality.
"Now, slow down Khalifa. I am sure he must have had a reason to break in as he did. And to answer your question, yes. It is a mouse."
"Okay, so I guess we're gonna just move on from the mouse. No problem there. Anyways, name's Dante. Dante Sparda. And I've heard you make one hell of a ship."
"Considering the entire island's economy revolves around my shipbuilding company I would wager that I indeed can 'make one hell of a ship', as you put it. Your point?"
"Well, isn't it obvious, old chum? I want me a boat, and I'm gonna pay you to build it!"
"Fine. My company can handle another commission. Payment up front though, you pirates have a habit of swindling good shipwrights."
"Fuck."
If Khalifa's self-satisfied smile said anything, it was that she revelled in Dante's slow walk out of the building at the hands of financial instability. It would seem the man was immune to being conned.
And so Dante found himself being told to come back when he was a little more... richer, something that was also becoming commonplace in his new life. At least the man was willing to make a boat for him, that was certainly a win.
'May as well just walk around for now, I suppose. Maybe I should go see old Bird Boy.'
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Upon returning to Dock 1, Dante saw a spectacle that he hadn't expected. It seems he had encountered the main cast, because he almost certainly recognised that stretchy little shit Lucy or whatever his name was, alongside the woman next to him, though he couldn't much remember the third man. Walking over to the group, he loudly announced his arrival by calling out his previously made acquaintance.
"Oi, Bird Boy, it's me, Dante! Miss me?" The announcement drew the eyes of both Lupin, 'I think it was Lupin. Laufey?' and the woman, as well as a third figure he hadn't noticed and-
"Pffft! Ahahaha! Oh, God what the hell is up with that nose, dude?! Is that a square? Is that even meant to happen? Jesus, you gotta see a doctor about that, do you even have nostrils? Oh God, you've got a giant nose too! Are you long lost cousins? Is it a fashion statement?"
Indeed, Dante had seen another shipwright with a rather large nose, one that caught him quite off guard given how comically large it was, alongside another pirate with a massive nose. Perhaps they were indeed related.
"Phew, sorry about that, anyway continue what you were doing. Just wanted to pop in and say hello, wander 'round a bit."
Meanwhile, Nami, who Dante was currently deciding on a name for, began to remember why Dante's name and visage looked so familiar to her, and took a step back in shock.
"Red Devil... Dante?" Her voice was trembling, she had never met someone with a bounty so high as his, and one that had been awarded for such a grave crime. She was surprised he hadn't been found dead already. Her crewmate to the side, Usopp simply screamed and clung to Luffy in abject fear.
"Yup, thats what the world seems to want to call me, so I'll go with it. Name's Dante Sparda though, in case you were wondering. Anyways, as I said, go ahead with your business. I already spoke with the Mayor, just need some money and I'll have my own boat, Bird Boy."
Gears were turning in Nami's head by this point. See, Dante's interference with Iceburg's schedule had consequences. Due to his inability to meet the Straw Hats and plan to aid them, and the lack of interference with the Franky Gang as a side effect because of Paulie working overtime after Kaku disappeared briefly to report Dante's whereabouts to Spandam, the Straw Hats had no money. It had all been stolen.
And Nami was not happy about that, at all. So, she made a bargain. Though she was confident on the outside, internally her heart was racing. She was afraid. It was either no money at all or a chance at money at the behest of a cutthroat pirate.
"Say, Dante. You seem to need some money, and we just so happen to have some. Technically. It was stolen, but if you find it for us I promise you can have 10 percent of it!" Dante looked at her as though she were crazy, because quite frankly it seemed she was.
"Lady, you out of your mind? I'm not gonna hunt down your purse just for a 10 percent cut. I got better things to do."
"Purse? No, you seem to be mistaken. See, we were robbed of 200 million berries. I'm willing to part ways with 10 percent of that if you can find it, though." He levelled his gaze with hers and smirked.
"And what's stopping me from simply taking it all and running off afterwards?"
"...Moral obligation?"
It was a reach. But it had worked. Try as he might, Dante certainly couldn't say no when a person needed help.
"Eh, good enough. Though, I'll happily help for a 25 percent minimum."
"25!? Are you crazy!? It's our money!"
"Not anymore it ain't. You want it back, or not?" Nami was beginning to hold back tears now. All that beautiful money, gone in an instant by this greedy bastard's hand!
"Fine! Just make sure you get the money, then you can have your stupid 15 percent!"
Dante smiled, happy to have done some business and eager to get his hands on the money, taking the information that the 'Franky Gang' had done the robbery and gone on his way, not before reminding Nami that it was 25, and not 15 percent, walking off towards the outskirts of the island to find them.
All the while, Usopp looked on at Nami in awe as she managed to speak up to such a bloodthirsty maniac as Dante.
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Blood. The scent was thick, and the walls were covered in it. Corpses littered the floors and each of them was covered in slash wounds and gashes, undeniably dead.
Vergil's feet slowly met the ground in rhythmic stride, his frustration growing with each passing second. His Devil Sword hungered for blood, and he was willing to oblige, but he had a goal first and foremost, yet even still he hadn't been able to replicate the resonance Dante had with those Devil Fruits.
That would not stop him on his quest for power, though. Never would he allow it to. His primary goal will always be power, nothing less, and his intuition told him this was the key. He simply needed to find a new batch of unwilling participants.
'Next time will be different', he reminded himself. 'I won't accept anything less.'