The cold wind was blowing and the weather was calm, though the feeling in the air had shifted drastically. Where there was once fear and avoidance, now there is hatred and loathing, and all it took was a single newspaper and an hour of time. Given his association with the Straw Hats, Dante had been rallied under the banner of an assassin of their great mayor in the eyes of the public.
Sure, they already were hesitant about him due to his 'heinous' crimes, but now they downright wanted him dead. People that were gathered around the front of Iceburg's Manor, begging to see their great leader and assess his condition, all jumped to try and maim or injure Dante in their own way as he made his way into the building.
He simply dipped, dodged, dived and ducked around them, in no specific order. Truth be told, he was confused to no end. 'Just what does she gain from doing this?', he pondered, trying to understand a fraction of the unfolding situation. He needed Iceburg alive if he wanted the SS Deadweight in action, sailing the seven seas and living his best pirate life, and Robin's actions were threatening that dream.
Given her friends trust in her, perhaps it was a framing. Maybe it wasn't by choice. Maybe it was a reveal of her true colours, finally living up to the Devil Child name of old. Maybe Dante was theorising possibilities to pass the time as he casually meandered his way towards Iceburgs office. Many of the workers didn't even try to stop him, instead moving out of the way as he walked by, signalling to him that perhaps Iceburg allowed him special entry.
Eventually, he came face to face with the door, knowing exactly how to make his entrance.
"Well, I guess it's time to see what this is all about. Wonder if Khalifa is here too."
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Iceburg, despite his injured state and usually calm demeanour, couldn't help but jump up in shock at seeing the door swung violently on the hinges, now revealing Dante with his boot in the air, having obviously kicked the door open. He relaxed significantly upon seeing the man, but also lamented that he actually came.
"Well, ain't you a sight for sore eyes, huh?" Dante grinned at the condition Iceburg was in, bedridden with bandages over the chest and head. The man was staring at Dante in a far more deadpan manner than ever before seen.
"I would say that the gaping bullet hole in my stomach is much more sore than your eyes."
A grimace was all Dante graced that statement with, before cheerfully carrying on with the conversation, entirely ignorant of Iceburg's ire, though also acutely aware of the lack of Khalifa's presence.
"You know I've been wondering, how'd you get that wound anyway?"
Iceburg did not change his expression in the slightest, still levelling his gaze with Dante's and showing no emotion whatsoever.
"In this world, there exists something called guns. Guns shoot bullets. When a gun shoots a bullet, the bullet will then-"
"Enough already! I get it, I worded that a bit wrong. Let's try that again. What happened before Robin shot you? Did she say anything?"
"I am not legally obligated to tell you anything."
Dante was stopped dead in his tracks by that statement, given he was walking towards the chair on the side of the room.
"You think I'm some kind of cop? I don't care about legal obligations, I just want some answers. Oh, another thing, where is Khalifa?"
Iceburg sighed, finally shifting his gaze away from Dante as he looks down at his mouse, of which Dante still did not know the name of.
"I sent her away for the day. I wanted time to recover for myself. My trust in her has... withered slightly. It was her suggestion to lay off some of the workers in the building so as to 'minimise costs', though it also allowed for Nico Robin to have unrestricted access to me, and nearly kill me."
"Huh. Guess that must've been my fault, poor Rachis. He did his job the best he could I guess. So, anyways, Khalifa seems suspicious, Nico Robin has no discernible motive and I seem to have VIP treatment here. Just what the hell is going on here?"
Iceburg looked at Dante as though perplexed, before realising that Dante was talking about a former member of his staff. He ignored Dante's confusion, as he made a promise to never expose the secret of Pluton. Not even on his deathbed.
"Your reason for being here is rather simple. One does not get a better insurance policy than a pirate as powerful as yourself, and I believe Robin will return tonight to finish the job. You will stop her."
Dante had a feeling that was the reason, but was also not going to complain. After all, this brought him much closer to the action, and would maybe allow him to get the scoop on the real story here. He needed Iceburg alive, and Iceburg knew that. It seems he was holding the Deadweight hostage.
So, Dante would go along with it. He would keep the bastard safe. Though, sadly he now had to occupy himself for however long it would take for Robin to arrive.
Spotting a mirror in the corner, with a stool to go alongside it, Dante made his mind up on what he wanted to do to pass the time. The hobo-stubble has persisted for long enough.
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Nico Robin was a woman with a dream, however it seems that dream would have to wait. Her friends lives were in danger, and she would do anything to keep them safe, even if it jeopardised her aspirations of uncovering the Void Century.
Gun in hand, and steeling her determination, Robin reminded herself what her mission was. Uncover Pluton, and eliminate Iceberg. In exchange, the Straw Hats will remain unimpeded by CP9, and after she will quietly go with them to Enies Lobby.
The active members of CP9 on Water 7 had already assisted in her entrance into Iceburg's Manor, taking care of the workers on shift that night keeping Iceburg safe, occupying them so that she would have a short window to enact her mission.
Clutching her pistol in sweaty palms, feeling pressure weighing down on her from all angles, Robin slowly pushed open the door to Iceburg bedchamber, seeing the man lying still, asleep. He was injured from their previous encounter, though not enough to fatally kill him. The whole purpose of that attack was to keep him here, after all.
Her steps were quiet, and her will was sharpened. She made her way slowly towards the head of the bed where Iceburg lay, only to stop in her tracks and slowly turn her head to the side, in a mix of shock and abject terror.
Her fear was quite rational, as she now saw the full figure of the Red Devil Dante sat in the corner, obviously having been paid to watch over Iceburg, though it seems he was occupied given that he was... shaving? It looked to be something along the lines, as he was currently giving himself a close shave with a floating, red spectral sword, entirely ignorant of Robin.
Just as she considered the idea of breaking his neck with her Devil Fruit, raising her arms to summon the appendages, she found herself face to face with another of those red swords, with Dante having risen from the chair, free from the pain of his hobo-stubble, fully shaved and fully prepared.
"Ya know, if I wanted a Devil Child, I would've just called Nero."
He turned in her direction, and gave a single smile before beginning a conversation with her, openly ignoring the existence of his own summoned sword floating between her eyes.
"You've really crossed the line with this."
He paused for a moment afterwards, coming to the realisation that she has absolutely no idea who Nero is, sighing in sadness somewhat that he would never get to meet that Deadweight little shit before continuing on as if nothing happened.
"...What exactly are you doing here, Nico Robin?"
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Dante was not surprised to be seeing Robin here, he had sensed her approaching from meters away, however he noticed something peculiar. If she was here to kill Iceburg, she would have simply got in and shot him, without ever noticing Dante.
However, the fact that she moved forward towards him, even when she had a clean shot, implies that there is an ulterior motive here. She doesn't want him dead. She wants something from him, though what that is he has no idea. Could damn well be anything.
At least, that was one of Dante's thoughts about the situation. Another thought of his was surprise at how good the woman looked, given his only knowledge on her appearance came from a bounty poster from when she was 10. Though, he was also confused as to why someone who had been on the run their whole life kept the same hairstyle, and hair colour. Seems counterintuitive.
"Well? Cat got your tongue? I understand, I am quite the handsome guy. Still, if I were you, I'd start talking."
It was a small chance, but CP9 were prepared for any possibility. Robin was prepared for this situation. CP9 had told her what to do on the off-chance that she encountered the Red Devil, however she couldn't help but feel like this was a chance.
Maybe he would be strong enough to help? To rid them of the burden CP9 brought? Or would he simply laugh at her struggle? After all, what does he have to gain from helping her? Then again, what reason does he have to help Iceburg? Does he even know what he's doing? Sweat was trailing down her forehead now, her heartbeat reaching an unforeseen rate.
"...Hello? You there? Ah, damn. Nobody told me I was dealing with the worlds slowest assassin. The hell am I meant to do now?"
In her anxiety ridden state, suffering from the overwhelming pressure of CP9 on her back and the Red Devil staring her down, though now without the sword at her head, Robin panicked, and did the first thing that came to her mind in the moment.
It went against her normally calm and composed demeanour, however she simply could not cope with the situation. Little sleep, little hope, and little reason to care anymore. Her hand slipped into her pocket, and pushed down on the 'panic button' she had been given to alert CP9 of any roadblocks in the mission.
Dante noticed this, of course, paying acute attention to each and every movement she made so as to avoid her simply shooting Iceburg, though that would be difficult given that he had used his summoned sword and sliced her gun down the middle halfway through their one-sided conversation.
As Dante was about to ask another question to the silent woman, his words were interrupted by the wall exploding inwards, waking Iceburg and revealing the figures to be Luffy, Nami, Zoro and Chopper. He had heard conflict coming from within the building, and he was admittedly surprised they had been able to get here.
Another second later, and the multiple members of CP9 arrived, blasting through the opposite wall, having not wasted their effort with stalling the Straw Hats as they believed them so far beneath in terms of skill. Seeing that a fight was about to start, Dante summoned King Cerberus and began to smile, muttering to himself.
"Now this is how you get a party started!"
Perhaps Vergil should take some notes. Though, that would have to come later, as the man was... indisposed at the mooment.
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Tasteless. Wasteful. A shameful imitation of what his brother had used to such efficacy. He felt like a dog led around by the nose, constantly sniffing around for more power, though it would never stop him from his eternal pursuit.
As of now, in his hands, he held power. Though, it was not enough. The power he held was not nearly as much as he initially perceived it to be. He had expected a Devil Arm, a weapon to be used and mastered. Though, instead all he received was a minor addition to his repertoire. He had essentially been tricked by his own instinct.
Mammon was a simple Devil arm. A polished, silver ornamental glaive, wreathed in engravings of thorns and Hebrew lettering, with two leather grips across it's pole. The power was an interesting one, the ability to entirely become intangible momentarily and emit thick smog, however the problem with intangibility is that just as none can attack you, you cannot attack anyone yourself.
The weapon sported a second function in the ability to split the pole of the glaive into bladed segments, essentially forming a serrated whip on a whim. It... disappointed Vergil. Having experienced the intense power of Beowulf, his expectations were quite high, though considering this weapon came from a Human it made sense.
'Perhaps... my target was too weak. I need a much more potent subject to create a more potent weapon.' He thought to himself, already creating plans to find the strongest of this world and subjugate them for his plans.
The Devil Sword Vergil should have been enough, it should have cemented his superiority over Dante, however he did not just want superiority. He wanted domination, utter humiliation and total victory. His power already eclipsed that of Sparda, his original goal had been reached, but at the time it felt hollow.
When he had awoken in this new world, words whispered in his mind of 'a gift' and of Dante's presence, he already felt the immeasurable power beneath his skin, the wellspring he never could tap into prior. However it was exactly that. A gift. Not earned, not his own.
He compared himself to a parasite, using a power that was entirely his own, but felt entirely foreign. His fist clenched in a mixture of fury and revulsion at the thought of accepting a handout.
Putting a cloak over himself so as to avoid being recognised as Dante on the streets, Vergil sought out a newspaper of any kind, so as to ascertain valuable targets for transformation.
Maybe now, with this new weapon in hand, Vergil could finally escape the looming terror of Royal Guard, and escape from its shadow.