[Espy]

Dante threw his hands up in sheer exasperation. For crying out loud...! Does no one have mental privacy here?! The purple aura was now interspersed with a dark crimson. He bent down, grabbed his holster belt, and slipped into his boots. Kicking the rest of his clothes into the corner that he had been trying to take a nap in, he spat, "I don't honor anything. To me, he was only doing his job as a Saint."

"And now that the city has settled down a decent bit, some pub should be open. I'll be doing my own job. Fighting Dybbuk doesn't exactly provide a person with food, unless you're willing to eat the stuff," he added, glaring at the gunman. He made his way towards the door, resisting the urge to push the old man aside.