The Mess Cleaner 1 (Patreon)

The Mess Cleaner 1 - Or ‘He breaks, I pay, he slays, I clean’ (Devil May Cry, SI)

EDIT: This is a reminder for people that are not well-versed in DMC Lore - The story starts with the first novel of the series, which happens before the first chronological game which is DMC 3. So, the first few chapters will be about the Novel, and then we will move to DMC 3 and on.

The art of making weapons was a fine one.

If you have studied and trained a lot in mastering the skills needed to produce such a wonderful ability, then you are owed some of the most beautiful products possible. Such as this pleasant-looking revolver I just finished creating.

An ever-evolving gun that I created as my primary one. Well, within my budget that is. I would have aimed for something bigger, but I had to do with what I could get my hands on and-

“You have other jobs to do, Bukharin.”

I flinched as my employer’s voice drew me out of my gun-nut mood. Turning to the side, I was met with the flattest look Nell Goldstein could have mustered. The old gunsmith was far from the cheap boss, but she tended to get bossy on me out of a personal ‘retribution’ in regard to how she hired me.

After all, my life was ‘tied’ to my ‘highschool bro’. It all started when I got reborn as a child in the world of Devil May Cry. Yes, I know, I should have mentioned this rather than let this scene unfold as it was but- let’s be honest, it kind of slides off when I am trying to not get ‘punished’ by the gun-smithing boss.

So, I got reincarnated in a world with lots of Devils and monsters, grew up an orphan, then I went to highschool like any regular human in New York and I ended up with my desk right beside Dante’s- Well, Tony’s.

Tony Redgrave was Dante’s fake name that was forced upon him after he was taken away from his family as a child. It was to protect him and all of that crap. So, the white-haired daredevil that pretty much coaxed me to slowly turn my life focus in hunting down Devils was none other than one of Sparda’s sons.

At this point, he was blissfully unaware of his true past. Only knowing that he had a knack to attract demons and that he had been taught the ‘basics’ of combat to ‘defend himself’.

In truth, he loved the thrill of fighting those monsters- and I ended up yanked into this mess. Initially, there was an effort for an active role but… something about normal blades didn’t feel right. I was just too ‘human’ to make the difference at this point.

In a world where blades were best used by Devils and entities above normal guys like me, guns felt like the thing to go for. And the one that led me to follow this path was Grue, a mercenary that got us to join Bobby’s Cellar which was the guild he was affiliated with.

Being a mercenary at the time was the best way to make quick cash for Tony and be destructive as much as he wanted. Up to this point, one of the things that really pissed me off was the fact I had to be the one ‘cleaning up’ after his messes. Specifically, homework and cleaning his clothes because he was utterly worthless about that sort of stuff.

So, when we joined Bobby’s Cellar… things changed immensely. It wasn’t exactly a ‘rise from zero to hero’ kind of deal. I couldn’t join mercenary jobs myself due to a lack of ‘potential’ in that sort of stuff. The only way I got where I ended up was through Tony being… well ‘Dante’.

Nell didn’t need or want an assistant, but Tony told her something that made her want to give me a shot. And I didn’t fail. In fact, ‘I have what it gets to be a good gunsmith’.

While to many this was good news, the next three years made me rethink that moment as I learned the true meaning of pain under her guidance and teaching. That’s not to say Nell didn’t deserve all the flattery she would get, but she was by no means a kind boss towards me. In three years, I learned how to disassemble and assemble all sorts of guns. Not all, but most of those commonly used.

Some orders were absurd at times, but I never once allowed a mistake to set me back. And the only reason I would get ‘punished’ was because Tony was being ‘an utter ass’ to her.

So, instead of ‘punishing’ Tony, I would be the one having to clean the shop or go through a full ‘check’ to see if all guns were accounted for- this one was rather cruel considering that there were hundreds of unused guns that Nell was keen to check herself on a daily basis. Not out of work or worry, but because ‘she was bored’.

The biggest win I got was getting the green light to start working on the Revolver Handgun I was close to finish. Just a few touches and this wonderful piece of mass destruction crystallized in the form of the most basic and common weapon around would be ready to be used in self-defense.

All the while I saved up the money I was making through the job for the ‘independent business’ kind of plan Tony and I had going on from when we ended high school. We had the ideas and the determination, we just lacked the funds to materialize those.

And while he too was saving for that, his capacity to handle cash was… well, awkward. He tended to waste most of it on ice cream, pizza, new shirts, pizza, orders for Nell to improve guns he would steal from defeated hostile mercs, and pizza.

All in all, things were going well for us. We were a bit far from facing the plot of Devil May Cry 3 and I didn’t get the chance to read from the so-called ‘prequel material’ before the games to know how Dante’s life ended up for him before buying the future Devil May Cry building. I thought that wasn’t going to be a problem early on but-

I wish I had been more careful about this and… avoided some awkward situations in the future.

—---------d-d-d-d—----

Many years later…

“Mr. Bukharin?”

I blinked, my old body shaken up from the brief moment of rest I had during the drive. The van had stopped and I barely noticed due to how insomniac I was at that moment.

“Yes… Nico?”

The bespectacled girl seemed aware I wasn’t fully there just yet but curiosity can be quite interesting in the eyes and minds of young people.

“I have asked Nero but he wasn’t told much of this so… is this true that you used to work for my grandmother?”

That actually caught me off-guard.

I forgot that the girl was a Goldstein even though she was clearly gifted with her adoptive grandmother’s mind when it comes to weapon-making. It was just not with traditional guns, but demon-related ones.

“I was, yes.”

“How was she?” Nico pressed, the girl clearly interested about it. “Dad would always say that I am… well, like her.”

“You have the ingenuity and geniality of hers, yes,” I confirmed, shifting in my seat. “But you lack her ruthlessness and sternness.”

“Hm? Was she a tough boss?”

“One that was for tough-loving. Always keeping me on my toes.”

…

“You still miss her?”

“You would have loved her. And she would have loved you.”

“...E-Even though I came from-”

“Yes,” I assured, knowing of her non-blood relationship with Nell. “She would have loved you a lot.”

Nico looked forward and smiled at these words.

“Now… I have to go,” I hummed, deciding to check on Nero as the boy had gotten far enough for me to act as the very concerned and quite stalking surrogate uncle. “You keep out of trouble, got it?”

“Obviously!”

It’s good to know her spirit lives on but it can be so difficult to forget the pains of the past.

Letting go is just never easy… but I can still fight for the future.