DMC: Being a demon hunter in Japan is not easy

City of Tokyo, Japan. 5:00 AM.

Several people leave the airport with a specific destination; some board their family's vehicles, while others take taxis. Among them, a weary Desmon walks slowly, carrying a guitar case.

Is he now pursuing a career as an independent musician? The answer is no; in fact, he's quite clumsy with musical instruments. But going back to the point, Trish advised him to avoid carrying weapons in public places. Having grown up in a remote village and worked as a bounty hunter since childhood, his common sense isn't well-developed.

Who would have known that you can't walk around cities with a sword, especially not in Japan? That's why he conceals Alastor. 

"I really hate airplanes."

After finding out that his father left him with all his debts, he had no choice but to accept it and start working. That's why he's now in Japan, even though his actual destination is three cities away. Hopefully, he can catch a ride on one of the trains and travel for free since he doesn't have enough money to buy a ticket.

The money he managed to gather was used to cover the outstanding debt with Enzo for using Alastor, as well as to pay the electricity and water bills since, for some reason, Trish and Lady tend to hang out at the place and kill time. After paying all that, the remaining amount was used by Trish to buy Desmon some presentable clothes. He refused to wear one of Dante's outfits, so she had no choice but to get him a new set.

It consisted of a black leather trench coat with red lining, a dark blue polo shirt, matching jeans and black boots. It seems like most demon hunters dress similarly, so Trish took it upon herself to dress him in a similar fashion. She doesn't have an obligation to do this, but she finds it amusing and curious to see what someone with Dante's blood can achieve.

With his new attire, he got ready to go to Japan, but the problem was how he would get there. Perhaps he could go by land and then swim hundreds of kilometers, but he has to meet his client in a few days, so that's not an option.

(Luckily) Lady managed to get him a ticket for the cheapest class on a flight, along with a cell phone and an English-Japanese dictionary. Of course, all of that was added to his account. It's not that Lady hates him, but when he called her an old witch, it annoyed her. And when she found out Desmon was Dante's son, well, her reaction was similar to what happened years ago in one of her encounters with a young Dante. 

Desmon, with quick reflexes, caught the bullet in his teeth, accusing Lady of being a witch as he spat the bullet to the side.

Dante just laughed when he saw this because during the fight with his son, Desmon demonstrated the ability to endure pain and regenerate, which is normal for someone with demon blood. And if you add that he's the grandson of the legendary demon Sparda, it's the least to be expected.

Now, with all the preparations done, including the case for Alastor, he said his goodbyes to Morrison and Trish. At least she treats him better than Lady.

The journey would take almost a whole day, and during that time, he should learn the basics from the dictionary Lady gave him. However, his new cell phone intrigued him more, and he got completely engrossed in it, forgetting that he's heading to a country with a different language than his own. But that would be a problem for his future self, just one day later.

"The weather in this place is really lousy." He couldn't help but complain.

Desmon walked less than three blocks before the entire area was covered in thick fog. The sound of passing vehicles and people from the airport vanished, as if the world fell into silence.

"It seems like this isn't just an ordinary fog." He thought, scanning for anything out of the ordinary, but finding nothing, he stopped paying attention.

He heard the sound of an approaching engine; a motorcycle was heading towards his location at a speed of 200 km/h. Being located on a one-way street, he was an easy target.

Unfortunately for the driver, Desmon moved a few inches, narrowly dodging the impact that should have killed him. The motorcycle performed impossible maneuvers and came to a stop. Whoever was driving had pulled off a miracle.

"I guess traffic laws don't exist in this country." Desmon muttered as he approached the driver, realizing that this person was not human. More trouble right after arriving in a foreign land. He mentally complained.

"(Seems like today is my lucky day)"

The driver got off the motorcycle, revealing the face of Japan's top motorcyclist. He had performed countless superhuman feats, making a name for himself across the country and winning all competitions. If others were to find out that this man made a contract with a demon, they would strip him of all the trophies he was awarded for this.

"Maybe I should have studied that thing." Desmon didn't understand what the demon in front of him said. No matter how much it tried to disguise itself, he could sense that it wasn't human.

"(You're human and yet a demon, an abomination, but it will be interesting to see what flavor you'll have.)"

Part of the contract he had to fulfill was consuming humans, hence the countless missing people in the city of Tokyo, but unfortunately for their families, they are already dead.

Desmond pulled out his dictionary and started searching for words based on the sounds he was hearing. He raised a finger to signal the other party not to interrupt him while he looked, but he was pleased to find the words and their meaning. "Dude, that's racist!" He mocked without hesitation.

"(Enough games, let's eat!)"

Desmon raised his finger again as he searched in the dictionary, but this time, the other party didn't wait. One of the man's arms deformed, stretching to the point where it could hold Desmon's entire body in its hand.

Desmon was lifted and slammed into the ground several times, creating cracks in the pavement. To the demon's surprise, when it looked, Desmon was still standing, dusting off his suit. It had used enough force to destroy other demons, and it was impossible to believe that this hybrid had survived such an attack.

"I had some back pain from the long journey, but your massage helped." Desmon said, demonstrating that the attack didn't faze him.

"(I will kill you in the most painful way imaginable!)"

Desmon hesitated but ultimately put away his dictionary; looking up the meaning of every word was pointless. It was better to cut the demon down rather than chat over tea.

Nevertheless, he took out his cell phone and started searching for something; after spending an entire day with the device, he was like a child with a new toy.

The demon grew angry at being completely ignored, as if its presence were just a joke, so it decided to drop the disguise and reveal its true form. Its entire body began to expand, its skin turning black, limbs growing disproportionately compared to its body, and its head transforming into that of a goat's skull. Its eyes glowed a fierce red, reflecting its thirst for blood.

Without giving his opponent a chance, the demon lunged at Desmon with incredible speed, his fist colliding with the young man's small figure. A 13-foot demon against a 6-foot guy, a significant height difference. But to its surprise, when it pulled back its fist, there was no trace of blood and torn flesh.

"You really are desperate, but I found what I was looking for," Desmon said with a wide smile, speaking from the demon's shoulder as he had climbed on top of it during the attack.

He selected the file he was looking for, pressed play, and put his cell phone away.

During the flight, he watched some action movies, finding certain songs during the fight scenes spectacular; a typical attitude for a teenager.

"And I thought I would take the morning off." Before the demon could move, it received a powerful kick to the face, sending it flying a great distance; an unrealistic sight given their size difference.

After the demon recovered, Desmon drew his sword and blocked the demon's punch, using the force to push it back. The demon tried to trap him again with its other arm.

"You're pretty fast for being so big. What did they feed you as a child?" Desmon taunted while retreating and aiming Alastor at the demon.

The demon roared in anger and attacked once more, but Desmon kept dodging while continuing to insult it. He found it amusing to taunt talkative demons.

Several years ago, a novice motorcycle rider had an accident and was on the verge of death. In desperation not to die, he started saying anything that came to his mind, and at that moment, a demon appeared before him, promising to grant any wish he had in exchange for countless human lives. Soon after, the legend of this man, a professional motorcyclist who could perform absurd maneuvers, spread. Not to mention the races where he always took home the gold.

That's how he got what he wanted while devouring humans, whether they were his fans or random people he hunted in these places. With time, he grew stronger, and devouring countless humans only made him more powerful. But even so, it was no match for the young man before it. No matter how it attacked or how much strength and speed it used, the human it faced evaded it all with a smile and words in another language.

Rage flooded its being; it wanted to kill this guy once and for all, but to its misfortune, it was impossible. Today, it should have just stayed in bed; that way, it could have continued its routine for a few more months.

For Desmon, the situation was amusing; the past few days had been stressful. So, having fun with the demon momentarily made him forget about his million-dollar debt.

But all good things must come to an end; he couldn't spend the whole day having fun.

Seizing the demon's distraction, he used Alastor to cut off one of its hands. The demon roared with anger but didn't stop attacking.

During this exchange, Desmon's gaze focused on the motorcycle the guy had used to try and run him over. Bored with the fight, he decided to tease it further.

With a mighty leap, he jumped back a great distance and landed next to the vehicle. He curiously examined the motorcycle as if he wanted to take it for a joyride. Despite being a demon hunter, he was still a 17-year-old boy.

"DO NOT TOUCH THAT!" The motorcycle represented the contract between the human and the demon, making it the most valuable possession for it.

"You want it, then take it." Desmon flung the motorcycle as if it were weightless. The demon moved to catch it, breathing a sigh of relief as it managed to hold it.

Perhaps if the demon hadn't attached so much importance to the motorcycle, it would have noticed the boy speeding toward it. The result was that both its face and the vehicle were split in two.

The demon writhed in pain and rage, but before it could recover, Desmon struck Alastor against the ground, creating a spark that ignited the gasoline from the motorcycle.

In the blink of an eye, the spark traveled all the way to the demon's body, still holding onto the motorcycle, causing it to explode and burst into flames.

"I CAN'T DIE, I... I...!" The demon's words were interrupted when Desmon kicked Alastor toward the demon's skull, putting an end to its suffering.

Desmon moved to retrieve Alastor, which had embedded itself in a nearby wall.

"I guess using a weapon isn't so bad." He sheathed the weapon and noticed the mist dissipating.

"Now, all that's left is to find transportation to cross three cities. If only I hadn't destroyed that thing.'' Desmon mentally lamented.

As he prepared to leave, he noticed the pieces of the motorcycle gathering together and being engulfed in a demonic fire, eventually transforming into an entirely black motorcycle emitting a demonic aura. The demon's last will had merged with the bike, creating a devil arm.

"That's interesting. Too bad I don't have money for gas or a place to park it." Desmon thought.

Considering the expenses of owning a vehicle and not having money, he weighed the pros and cons of keeping it. Perhaps he would use it until he reached his destination and then get rid of it.

As if responding to his thoughts, the motorcycle moved forward, as if it wanted to be ridden by him.

Desmon touched the motorcycle, feeling a strange connection and recognizing its demonic energy.

Trish had mentioned the existence of devil arms, weapons that manifest from a demon's strength or will. Of course, you had to subdue the demon first.

Remembering that, he thought about the motorcycle disappearing, and obedient to his command, the vehicle in front of him vanished.

"What name should I give you?" He took out his dictionary and searched for some words before deciding.

"Kurox."

As he said its name, the motorcycle materialized before him.

"Today is truly my lucky day." He exclaimed without hesitation, climbing onto the motorcycle and setting off towards his new destination.

"Do you need a license to drive a demon motorcycle? I don't think so."

...

On the central road, a policewoman was resting in her patrol car. Her job was to fine people who exceeded the speed limit; a tedious task for someone who had enrolled in the police academy to catch criminals. Despite finishing top of her class at the age of 24, the police chief in her city had assigned her to issuing tickets to traffic violators.

"Another boring day?" She complained, using her hand to push aside her dark blue, long hair.

It was absurd that someone with her potential was stuck in such a monotonous job, but she still did it diligently, and so far, no offender had escaped her.

While contemplating what to have for lunch, she heard a very familiar noise; a motorcycle going well above the speed limit. She observed the vehicle speeding past, noticing it had no license plate, and the rider wasn't wearing a helmet; more charges to issue.

She activated the patrol car's siren and started the pursuit. Quickly, she caught up to the lawbreaker. She noticed the young man was riding without holding the handlebars, as he had a kind of book in one hand and his cellphone in the other.

"(You have multiple charges for reckless driving. So stop, and we'll have a conversation about road manners.)"

Desmon shifted his attention to the patrol car next to him but didn't understand the language, so he continued on his way. After all, devil arms weren't regulated in traffic rules.

"(I see, then it'll have to be by force.)" She began to accelerate to overtake the offender, but Desmon interpreted this as a race, so he accelerated as well.

This act ignited a spirit of competition, and she pushed the patrol car to its limits. Unbeknownst to them, the highway turned into a race between a demon hunter and a law enforcement officer.

"(No matter where you go, I will catch you, and we'll have a long conversation.)"

Desmon completely ignored the girl and recalled some words Trish had once told him. Using demon energy in devil arms could make them perform much better.

He had never tried this before, so he decided to test it out. He touched the handlebars and concentrated, imagining that part of his energy would transfer.

Kurox received this energy, gaining an impossible acceleration. Even racing cars couldn't match its top speed.

Kurox left the patrol car far behind, becoming nothing but a distant shadow.

The patrol car stopped as it was left behind by its target. Without thinking, Asako Kusakabe blurted out, "(What the hell was that?)"

Meanwhile, Desmon tried to regulate the energy, managing to maintain a stable flow without getting launched into the air.

"That was exciting, though I need to practice it better."

Putting that aside, he continued on his way, but not before checking the message he received from Morrison.

Destination: Chiba City

Client: Shizuka Hiratsuka.