"... You’re kidding, right?"
The impossible happened. Dante never expected his rage to fade, not when an enemy he planned on tormenting was right in front of him, but here he was.
Volcan’s basic sensors were enough to cover the entire room so they were able to tell what the boy was doing even before going in. They also learned that the door was welded shut, and that the electronic lock outside was a fake intended to trick anyone who tries to open it into believing it was busted.
At first, Dante was confused about how the brat got inside when the door was impossible to open, but then he noticed the air vent nearby and realized it was just large enough for that pipsqueak to squeeze through.
The conditions were perfect and Dante immediately came up with a plan to give the brat a taste of true horror before ending him. He asked Volcan to dive into the boy’s NIM and ensure he remains unaware of his surroundings. With that done, he asked for Type 8-3 and wore it long enough to create a portal into the room, dismissing it right before passing through.
Rift Creation made no sounds and the portals created through it disappear seconds after the armor is dismissed or if it’s outside a certain range from the exits. Because of that, the boy remained blissfully oblivious to the fact that his sanctuary was invaded.
Dante had allowed him to finish whatever he was working on then watched him test it. The spider-like robot was truly an engineering marvel and seeing it crawl on the ceiling only solidified that fact. It was when he began to wonder how it was possible that Dante realized his rage was diminishing; that’s when he decided to forgo his silence, intending to end things before his mind changed. His mistake was allowing the kid to speak.
"I give up." The boy seemed like he would crumble into a pile of sand at any moment. "You win."
Staring at him for a second, Dante suddenly recalled how his fight against the furry hero ended and grasped what the boy was trying to do. That, at the very least, somewhat helped reignite his fury.
"You think that would save you?"
"I... I don’t know what else to say..." The boy replied. "... Would you forgive me if I apologized?"
’... Was this how that Werewolf guy felt?’
[I am not too sure.] Volcan replied. [The situation does seem surreal, however.]
Dante lingered for a few seconds then said, "I don’t feel so forgiving today, so you better come up with something else."
The boy was sincere, or he wasn’t trying anything right now, at least. He must’ve understood that nothing he does would get him out of this situation, and that his best chance is to convince his opponent to spare him somehow.
He kept his arms raised while looking for something to say, and when something finally occurred to him, his head shot up.
Raising a hand to his head, Dante heaved a long, tired sigh. He came all the way here for payback, sure, but that didn’t mean he was accepting cash. Not that the pocket money of a child will ever be enough to change his mind.
On second thought, beating little kids wasn’t something he enjoyed that much.
’Fucking damn it!’ Dante lowered his hand and almost slapped himself. ’Can’t believe I just considered it...’
It was becoming even more apparent that his need for funds was greatly influencing his decision-making. Even after catching himself, Dante still failed to outright reject the idea of accepting the kid’s offer.
"Where the hell did a brat like you get that much?" He asked.
"Dad... he left most of it..." The boy replied, his voice dying out with each word. "The rest... I collected it over the years..."
"Your dad..." Dante’s eyes narrowed. "You said the Juggernaut used to be his..."
"Y-yes!" The boy shuddered. "I can prove it!"
"I don’t really care." Pausing, Dante thought for a moment, then extended his hand. "Give it back and I will consider the offer."
Opening his mouth, the boy seemed like he was about to say something, but his face dropped right away, and his raised hands slowly dropped.
"I... I can’t..." He said, his gaze cast down.
"I can’t give it back... not now..."
"... Listen, kid, do you even understand what situation you’re in right now?"
Dante ruffled his hair furiously, his fingers curling as he unintentionally pulled on some strands. "How about you do as I say before my patience runs out?"
Looking up, the boy met his eyes. The fear clouding them was gone, erased by sharp determination. Dante had seen those eyes. The boy had given him the same look not that long ago, and same as last time, something about it stuck with him.
"I can’t give it to you." The boy said. "There is... There is something I must do. I can’t give you the Blue Night before then."
"... Then how about I just kill you and take it?" Dante asked.
"I won’t stop you." The boy shook his head. "More like I can’t. It won’t matter once I’m dead, so... go ahead. Kill me."
Though his voice trembled with each word, the boy’s gaze remained steady, unwavering. There it was again, that strange sensation. Though familiar, Dante recognized it wasn’t the same anger he felt upon coming back to his senses in the filthy alleyway.
As he continued to hold his gaze, something about the boy seemed to change, taking away Dante’s desire to tear him limb from limb. He was still filled with murderous rage, but its target had changed, shifting until it was pointing inward. That was when it occurred to him.
The anger, the hatred, they were the same things he felt each time he saw his reflection in a mirror. The boy, despite looking nothing like him, appeared indistinguishable from the red-haired kid who looked back at Dante each time he tried to wash his face, serving as a constant reminder of who he was and what he had done.
"Kid..." Lingering for a moment, Dante asked, trying and failing to keep his voice neutral. "Are you trying to kill someone?"