"You want me to... pull the pope's corpse out of the bowels of this wreck... with magic?"
Morgana asked, her voice laden with incredulity, staring at the huge demon stretched out in the center of the living room like someone observing a work of art made by a lunatic.
Kraggor, lying on his stomach, let out little snores that sounded like muffled earthquakes. His skin trembled occasionally, as if his stomach was fighting an internal civil battle.
"Exactly," replied Vergil, without the slightest trace of shame or humor in his tone.
His eyes fixed on her, as if he had just ordered something as normal as coffee.
"I've already tried... conventional methods," he added, flexing his hand which was still vibrating slightly with energy. "A punch. A kick. A push with Yamato. Nothing. He's already digesting. Besides..."
KRGOOOOOOOO!!!
The sound that came from Kraggor was apocalyptic.
A monstrous belch, powerful enough to make the whole room vibrate like a war drum.
