Chapter Two

The cloaked figure stood a short way from Dante, hand outstretched.

“How do I make more money?” Dante asked, his eyes taking in his surroundings. It’s a short way from where he lived, and yet everything felt so different, and smelt that way too. There was an air of tension, one that could be cut like a string.

The smelliness of the surroundings seemed muted, for some reason. It was even better than the place Dante lived.

“All you need to do is… let go.” The cloaked figure said, his voice coming out in a rasped tone. Dante didn’t like what it suggested, what it meant in the long run.

“Opium?” He asked, eyes narrowing slightly. The effects of opium could be seen, felt or even heard. It was the one thing he steered clear of, no matter the circumstances.

Opium makes people mad.

“No. Not that. And the one you’re exposed to is low quality anyway.” The cloaked figure said, and his words came out as a sneer. Dante didn’t mind though, he was used to being looked down on, as long as it ensured his survival.

“Let go of what?” He asked.

“My boy,” the hooded figure placed a hand on Dante’s shoulders, “don’t fret the details. You’ll be paid 500 gold, upfront. You don’t have nothing to lose, do you?”

Alarm bells went off in Dante’s head immediately. No, he couldn’t be deceived by the man in front of him, or whatever race it was. He couldn’t be deceived.

But, it’s not one gold coin, or ten. It’s five hundred. What do you have to lose?

“Shut up.” Dante said through gritted teeth, his eyes going colder than icicles.

“What?” The cloaked figure asked.

“I wasn’t referring to you. What do I have to do?” Dante asked, eyes scanning the surroundings. This was a deal that felt too good to be true, it wasn’t feasible. There had to be a catch, somewhere. And he needed to know what it was.

The Defenders, as they were called, weren’t present. They defended the City of Selene. But that was all a load of bull. They defended the upper strata and abused the lower stratas. They were powerful too, enough to have their own sigils.

“Let go.” The cloaked figure spoke again and Dante almost flared up. But he held himself back.

“Let go of what?” He asked, already becoming frustrated. Even most people in the upper stratas have never seen such amount of money in their lives. It made no sense how his contact was willing to give it up so casually.

“Do you agree to let go?” The hooded figure ignored Dante’s prodding.

“Okay.” Dante took a deep breath.

“Good.”

Everything went dark.

~~

Dante opened his eyes groggily, and it felt like his eyelids were plastered shut. He tried to force it but it was to no avail.

“What did you do to me?” He screamed, light exploding behind his eyelids, but he couldn’t open his eyes, no matter how much he tried.

“Stay still. I can’t have you seeing my face now, can I?” A voice that Dante didn’t recognize spoke. And it didn’t seem to be magically altered.

“What do you want with me?” Dante asked, calming down. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew how much of a waste of time throwing a tantrum was.

“All will be revealed in due time. I hear you don’t have a drop of mana in your veins. And yet, you take down dire beasts. You even go as far as hurting yourself to capture them. Curious,” the strange man’s voice was calming, and yet it had an uncommon edge to it.

It was definitely a man who has handled power.

“I do what is necessary to survive. As long as it ensures my survival, I can do anything.” Dante revealed, not budging. He’d heard of the eccentricities of the elites, but it didn’t make sense that they’d need him. He was just one person, without a lot of experience.

“Good. I’ve always wanted people like you. Number 9, set the table,” the strange man said, and Dante used the time to compose himself. That was one of his strengths, being able to analyze situations and finding his way out of them before he was killed.

He could tell that he was in a lab, of sorts. The smell of antiseptic was overpowering. And the sound of the strange man’s feet suggested that they were someplace secure and away from civilization, since there was no urgency to his actions. And the whole cloak and dagger stuff served to cement Dante’s hypothesis.

There is something here. Something they don’t want anybody else to see.

Dante heard the shuffling of feet again. But in a less threatening way. Number 9 was a woman, the smell of her cologne was one that he didn’t recognize, but he could tell that it was fairly expensive. So, Number 9 was the strange man’s partner. That was one mystery solved.

“Can you tell me your name, at least?” Dante asked, making sure his voice retained a wistfulness to it. He survived the world through his wits, even before his strength.

“And why should I do that, boy? Will you tell me yours? Oh wait, I know everything about you.” The strange man wasn’t baited by Dante and it annoyed him considerably.

“What do you know about me?” Dante asked, careful to keep annoyance out of hos voice.

“Enough to know that you survived the Great Catastrophe. And your parents sold you off. Stormborn is what you call yourself now.” There was silence. Dante felt his breathing intensify and tried to bring his emotions under control. Losing his head wasn’t the right way to solve anything.

“Number 7, begin.” The strange man said, and Dante heard a whirring sound coming from his right. It was a sound he knew like the back of his hand. A sound that haunted him for years, a sound that he couldn’t forget even if he was paid to.

Number 7 was the one who bought Dante. The one who turned Dante to a creature of blood and fire.

And Dante’s most hated enemy.