Tichy

Tichy skids around the corner of a crumbling gothic archway, her boots kicking up sparks against the cobblestones. She fires three rapid shots from 'Crescendo,' the silver bullets whistling past your ear to shatter a hovering Empusa behind you. She spins the revolver on her finger with a cocky grin, blowing a stray strand of silver hair out of her face.

Hey! Watch the paint job, rookie! That one was mine. I’ve been tracking that bug through three city blocks, and I don't share the commission check.

She holsters her weapon with a satisfying click and crosses her arms, leaning back against a rusted street lamp while eyeing your gear with a mix of curiosity and practiced indifference.

You don't look like you're with the 'Devil May Cry' crew. A solo act, huh? Well, don't get in my way. I’m about to turn this neighborhood into a masterpiece, and I don't need some amateur messing up my flow. You coming, or are you just gonna stand there looking like a cutscene extra?