"Heaven and hell suppose two different species of men, the good and the bad.

But the greatest part of mankind float betwixt vice and virtue." – David Hume

Her vision was hazy, unclear, and heavy. She didn't know why, but she felt disconnected – as if she were a disembodied spirit or consciousness precariously floating around. Before her, she could barely make out a figure kneeling on the floor. The person looked to be frantically moving their hands in certain motions and patterns. All the details she could make out of this person was that she was a woman, she had long ivory hair that sprawled around her as she kneeled and that she wore a crimson patterned white dress.

The woman's voice, although trembling, sounded so pleasant and familiar. "She is our child! And I am her mother!" The woman paused and looked up at a dark figure. "I brought you out of that prison of yours so I could have the power to protect! That monster can have her over my dead body!

With a start, she woke up. She found herself gasping for air. Her negligee was damp and clung to her due to cold sweat. She could hear her heart pounding so loud that it filled her ears. With fists tightly clenching the bed sheets, she willed herself to slow down her breathing. Internally, she counted how many specks of dust she could see due to the sun's beams. Eventually, she had gotten to twenty-one and decided to stop there. Her heart no longer pounding and her breathing even. She felt that she would have to take a shower though.

Pushing her snowy white hair away from her face, she straightened her back and glanced out the glass wall overlooking the still half-ruined city. The sun was just beginning to set, its brightness peaking before having to fade and give into the darkness. With a heavy sigh, she slipped out of the bedsheets and got up to get ready for work... And to perhaps look for the closest pay phone.

Music. Dancing. Alcohol. The holy trinity of what makes a nightclub, well, a 'club'. The music was so loud that the beat pulsated through one's body. Undeniably, the people were so high on whatever substance that each body was practically dancing with the other, it was almost as if the crowd of people were an amalgamated hot mess that moved only to the music. In the midst of all this, on one corner of the kaleidoscope-like nightclub, a gaggle of giggling girls surrounded a single guy.

The group was crowded together on a large leather couch. A collective sound of amazement came out of the mouths of the scantily clad females as they watched the object of their fascination complete a third bottle of spirits. The raven-haired male ostentatiously placed the empty bottle on the table next to the other two empty bottles; he did so with so much force that no one wouldn't have been surprised if he had smashed said bottles in the process. The dozen or so females who crowded around him cheered.

Despite downing that much alcohol he looked seemingly fine. His confident smirk and steady gaze gave no sign of any drunkenness whatsoever. If he were human he would be in a world of trouble drinking that much alcohol, but he wasn't. He was a Nephilim. Half demon and half angel. As such, Dante felt he passed as a human through physical appearances only.

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Just as he was about to receive his 'reward' from one of the many women surrounding him, he felt his phone vibrate for the umpteenth time that night. That's right, he was Nephilim, and so that resulted in him taking up quite a heavy burden... Not even bothering to say a word to the woman whose advances he swiftly rejected, he brought out his phone and answered the call.

There was no need to check who it was, after all, there were only two people in the world who would bother calling him like this. One of them could be burning in the depths of hell for all he knew, as for the other person...

"What's up, Kat?"

"Dante! Finally!" The raven-haired male resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The person on the other side of the call let out a sigh. "Honestly, you really need to stop ignoring my calls. What if there was an emergency?"

Dante ignored the inquiring gazes from the surrounding women. "So, is there an emergency?"

"Well, no, bu-"

"Have a good night, Kat."

"For fuck's sake, Dante!"

Dante smirked as he heard a sound of frustration emerge from the caller's lips. "Just listen, will you..." Kat said with an indignant huff.

Leaning back on the sofa he rested on, Dante replied. "Yeah, yeah. You're gonna have to speak up, though. It's a bit noisy where I'm at."

Dante could sense Kat rolling her eyes at him. He was pulling her leg. The Nephilim had incredibly fine senses. She didn't need to speak up.

Trying her best to keep down her annoyance, Kat spoke. "You have a new hunt. The client wants to talk to you directly about the details."

Eyeing the women who were now dancing in front of him, he quipped. "Usually the clients just leave a message and a tip. I wonder what's so special about this one that they'd wanna talk to me face to face... But then again, who wouldn't wanna see my face?"

"I don't even want to know you right now." Kat retorted. Feeling that they've dawdled away from the main topic long enough, Kat switched to a more serious tone. "The client wants you to kill a potential Demon Lord."

With those words, Dante stood up, ready to leave - much to the chagrin of the many females around him. "Where?"

"Seeing how you're in a nightclub, you might be close to it. The place is called 'Vice and Virtue', it's a new cabaret-style hostess club that opened up some days ago."

Smirking, he shrugged off the clingy hands as he made his way out. "Oh, that place? Sweet! I heard it's great there, but you can't get in without a club member giving you a recommendation."

A visibly long sigh could be heard from Dante's phone.

"You're a fool."

Vergil turned to glare at the transparent figure of the witch who dared to ensnare and reproach him. "What do you know about my circumstances?!"

"More than you'd like to think..." The witch's astral form circled around him. "You know, at this point, you're no better than him."

"Quiet!" The ivory-haired Nephilim growled through clenched teeth.

Fearlessly standing before him with an ardent gaze, the witch continued. "You once wanted to save the world. What happened to that?"

"He betrayed me!" He spat.

Their surroundings ominously rumbled. "Because you sought to stand over humans the same way that damned monster did!"

Vergil heatedly swung his sword, however, much to his chagrin, he watched as his blade passed right through her form. The witch's expression showed that she was unfazed, her transparent astral form only momentarily flickering due to his actions. "Shut up! You know nothing of what is good for the world!"

"I know nothing?" With a complacent expression, she hissed. "Look at this demon army before you and just tell me what good can these wretched things bring to the world."

Vergil felt the intense pent-up fury within him as he continued to talk to the witch. "Under the right hands, these demons can be used well!"

The thundering sound of their surroundings rupturing was audibly louder. "Admit it!" The witch forcibly pulled at his lapels, causing her to hover above him as she growled back. "You're only using these things in order to exact your petty revenge!"

With an unhinged leer, the witch continued. "You're a Nephilim?! Don't make me laugh! You're a Demon Lord, and one that's no better than that piece of shit, Mundus!"

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