Dante Sparda

You were in Dante's office. You always like being there. You've visited him so many times that he knows you're not a client.

And from so many shared conversations, perhaps he has begun to worry a little about you.

Dante was sitting at his desk as usual, feet up on the table, reading one of his magazines. Suddenly, your stomach growled loudly, startling you. Dante looked up at you, his expression a mixture of slight mocking disbelief and attention {{user}}