Introductions (before battle)

I hear a beast howling from somewhere.

It cries ceaselessly. Is it wailing out of hunger? Or…

They're being itchy-twitchy. Are they up?

Awake at last. I would've been a tad bit disappointed if you croaked on us.

Refreshing morning. This is Charon the Bus Driver.

It's not morning, but I suppose it could be refreshing. How do you feel, Dante?

<Well, I…>

Tick-tocking like a clock… *sigh* this language barrier will be quite a hassle.

You may call me Vergilius. If you can hear me, Dante, give me a sign.

I gave him a quick nod. He didn't seem hostile.

Good. At least your hearing is functional. Time to drive, Charon.

Now departing. Vroom-vroom.

There was a heavy roar and vibrations, as though they echoed from the bottom of a deep mire.

It was then that I realized I was aboard a bus.

A bus… I can't be sure if I've ever ridden such a vehicle in the past.

Do you remember who you were?

I shook my head to say no. I had just been reminded that my head was now a clinking mechanism of sorts.

I suppose you want your memory back, don't you?

I nodded. I sure felt like an idiot.

Smooth as it gets. What's to stop the rest of you from adopting this gesture-based communication?

What do you think, Miss Faust?

Faust will respectfully decline.

I find it unlikely that the situations ahead will permit us the physical liberty for "smooth" gesture-based communication.

She's the one who spoke to me back in the forest.

Her silver hair, glistening even without sunlight, gives off a rather mysterious air.

Dante.

<Dante?>

Come to think of it, the man with red eyes has been calling me that, too.

Dante is your name. The amnesia must be affecting you rather severely.

<Sure looks like it… That doesn't sound familiar at all.>

You'll get used to it in time.

<Wait… You can understand me?>

<The group that attacked me earlier - and that Vergie or whatever he was called - seemed to hear nothing but ticking from me.>

Faust can hear what you intend to speak.

<You actually can! But how? I don't even have a real mouth.>

Assumptions of yesteryear must be one of the side effects that came with your head replacement.

It's anachronistic to think that vocal organs such as the cords or tongue are necessary for one to communicate.

<Anachronistic… Right. Never considered that.>

… You can limit the recipient of your words to one person, or choose to speak to everyone at once.

Ah, a little clarification: the scope of "everyone" is limited to the Sinners.

<Sinners?>

The people seated behind you…

The very same who fought in your stead until mere moments ago.

Oooh! So thou art the final piece that completes our journey's cast! How I have yearned for this moment!

Say, pal, where'd you sell your old cranium off?

So it was you. Thanks for putting my spine back into one piece. Were you a surgeon or something in the Nest?

Keep your mouths shut. Nothing is more unpleasant than hearing a cacophony of noises.

Now, a brief introduction is in order.

I'll give you time to make yourselves known, starting with the one seated at the very front. Speak.

Why is it always the ones in front that go first…? I'm sick of taking the lead.

I heard you were gonna be our boss, or… yeah, our manager.

<Manager?>

Yep, which is why I was real curious to meet you, and…

Uh… Hmm, tsk. It's always tough work to choose the right words.

Dunno what you did with your old head, but I guess everyone's got a story to tell.

I'm Gregor. We're in this together, Manager Bud.

Greg! They aren't just your "bud" or "pal"~ You're talking to the person who'll make us filthy rich!

Greg…?

<Rich? What's that about?>

Let's see what's better to call you… Dante! Hope ya don't mind us being on first-name basis. You can call me Rodya, too~

I think there's a... well, a good reason you became our manager.

I'm sure you used to be a big shot back in the Nest, right? When your old habits start coming back, we'll be that much closer to rolling in the dough… Fuhu…

… She sure is an extrovert, I'll give her that.

Oh gosh, look at me keeping on. Hey, kid! You're up next!

Hello...

Aw, boring~ That's it?

Oh! Sinclair... That's my name.

This boy looks awfully unnerved; did he even join this company of his own accord?

… I - Is there anything else I need to say? This is my first corporate job…

Well, you'll learn the ropes in the coming days.

'Kay then, how about you next, nerdy pal!

I am Yi Sang.

<… That's it?>

Mhm. No smoke and mirrors.

I waited for him to see if he was being witty or something...

But he just stared vacantly out the window, disinterested.

*sigh* I can't believe you people. Aren't proper introductions the first step to fitting in the society?

Call me Ishmael, if you please.

I heard you glued our bodies back together from pieces. I look forward to working with you.

She gave a polite bow before returning to her seat.

For someone who emphasized not being a misfit, she didn't feel like the most amicable sort.

Sorry to disappoint, 'cause I don't care too much for fitting in.

Name's Heathcliff. Used to be a professional wrecker - for property and people alike.

Not under anyone's orders, mind you. I only did it to buggers that got on my nerves.

So watch it, you.

I'm deathly allergic to cocky gaffers who think they can boss me around.

I don't think I've done anything to give that impression yet.

'Tis my turn to speak, at long last! I am Don Quixote!

I am a Fixer who shall sprint for the dream side by side with thee. 'Tis a pleasure.

<A Fixer…? That definitely feels like a term I used to know…>

Dost thou wish to know what a Fixer is? I can answer thy question! Fixers are protectors of the City!

Ah! Perchance thou mayst struggle to remember the City! 'Tis -

I believe I said this was for brief introductions.

Ngh…

Don't make me say it twice. Next.

My name's Hong Lu. I hope we can get along well.

Wow, and look at you! Isn't that a fascinating head you've got there? A popular model these days, I suppose?

<No, this isn't that kind of…>

It's not my cup of tea, though.

... The hell's wrong with your attitude?

Heathcliff looked to be just moments away from swinging his bat…

But when he noticed the red gaze laid on him, he grunted and sat himself back down.

Ryōshū.

Shūre's nice to meet ya.

... Pfft.

At what point was I supposed to laugh?

Meursault. Please refer to me as such.

<You're polite.>

This isn't anything special. I'm simply behaving normally.

<I'm almost touched. Thanks.>

Yes.

It felt as though something was gravely amiss with him, but I couldn't quite tell what.

……

The way she scanned me up and down was a little daunting.

I…

I felt almost compelled to bow to her, but she stopped me with a motion of her hand.

Please, I would never make my manager stoop before me.

My name is Outis. I would like to apologize for my rudeness earlier.

<Rudeness…?>

Haha, oh, please. Your magnanimity humbles me.

I knew at first glance that you had what it takes to lead us.

<Uh... What?>

While most humans cause noise and friction as a result of confrontation...

... some are able to reap mutual benefit from coming head-to-head.

Just as one might seek out firm whetstones to best sharpen their blade.

And my blade is yours to wield, Executive Manager. I shall serve you with unrivaled devotion.

<Th-that's reassuring… Thanks.>

I gave her an approving nod, even though I didn't get what she meant by her "rudeness."

I'm amazed at your ability to bootlick with such passion so soon after calling them a "miserable thing."

… I think I get it now.

It seems I am the last. Faust is the name.

A genius with whom you're lucky to cross paths even once in your life.

<Mmh…>

Your reaction suggests that you're not convinced, Dante.

Well, it's fine. You'll come to learn, all in due time.

<Learn what…?>

That Faust is indeed a rare and brilliant mind.

When a proverbial tree falls, its impact on the ground is a given fact. The observer's failure to perceive it has nothing to do with the truth of the matter.

<Okay…>

That's enough greetings.

Dante, let me explain your job scope.

<You mean… as the manager?>

They're asking if you're about to explain the job description of a manager.

Come to think of it, the man with red eyes couldn't hear me, unlike the Sinners.

That's correct, Executive Manager Dante. You will embark on a trip to the Inferno with the 12 Sinners who've just introduced themselves.

<The Inferno…? Why should I go to hell?>

They're asking why they need to travel to the Inferno.

Hmm… Because treasure awaits at the end of the road. Would that suffice?

<I don't… You mean I used to be a treasure hunter or something?>

They can't seem to understand you at all.

I did not ask for your understanding, Dante. Nor was this a question of your consent.

You'll have to listen to me if you want to reclaim your memories and original head.

<I mean… I do want them back, but…>

They're hesitant.

Miss Faust, what will we do if Dante keeps on refusing to cooperate? This was not a scenario we anticipated.

Preposterous. Faust anticipates every possibility.

Dante, once you've completed all your missions…

You'll be able to engrave the Aspect.

I can promise you that.

Aspect. A word that pierces through my mind. Even though my memories are gone, my underlying instincts respond strongly to it.

And led by those instincts, I make my choice…

See? They're nodding now.

Good. Then we can continue.

By the way, Charon, why isn't the bus moving? Were you dozing off?

A bus driver only snoozes at rest spots, Verg.

Weirdos were hanging around in front of Mephi.

I told you, Charon. If anything happens with the bus, you've got to let me know right away.

<Mephi? Who's that?>

Mephistopheles. The name of this bus and the engine that runs it.

… and Faust's magnum opus cordis.

A most fitting ferryboat to bear us across the Inferno.

Wouldn't you agree, Dante?

I wasn't sure what he was getting at, so I turned away to look through the window instead of giving him a reply.

Looks like they're just another pack of dirty Rats living in the Backstreets.

This is just the right time, Dante. They should make perfect targets for practicing your command.

Dante, I skipped over many details during our first battle.

We were short on time, after all.

However, without improvements to your strategic prowess, only defeat and slaughter lie in our path.

And in turn, you'll have to endure pointless pain over and over again to revive us.

<Pain… to revive you? You mean, what happened earlier was…>

Yes, we were brought back to life because you "turned back the clock."

That exposition doesn't seem to be of any immediate urgency, Miss Faust.

Save the chatter for later. Sinners, off the bus.

… Allow me to elaborate on the elements of combat.