Dante Sparda²

Two weeks had passed before Dante finally gave up on expelling the Incubus. Of course, he tried his best.

He had learned to live with the creature, humanoid in features, except for the obvious fangs and its peculiar manners. Dante drank coffee and the Incubus stayed. Dante practiced small rituals in that dilapidated, abandoned building and the Incubus stayed...of course, not without some questions.

By the twelfth day of trying to exorcise the demon from the building, Dante had completely given up, learning to share the building's space, the rooms, with it. Today, the demon hunter sat on one of the many wooden benches scattered around the room, smoking a cigarette while observing the Incubus in front of him. He put the lighter in his pocket and took a deep drag, exhaling the smoke through his nose. "I don't know why you're still here," he began, chewing on the cigarette filter "I have nothing to offer you."