Ludicrous though the cut scenes are – all pumped-up and strung out on swagger – they are to be treated as an instruction manual. It’s a world in thrall to style, a world in which a team of armed police can’t fend off a swarm of demonic bugs with boring old bullets, but Nico can fell one by stubbing out a cigarette between its eyes. Indeed, the series has always catered to those already drunk on its particular brand of lunacy, and the first thing you notice in Devil May Cry 5 is the refinement of that madness. These are cooked up by weaponsmith Nico, a freckle-faced Southerner who grafts new meaning onto the word ‘armoury.’ The pair have franchised their own mobile branch of the titular demon-hunting agency, and they hurtle through the streets in a white RV bearing their business name in bright blue neon. He has a sword with a hilt like the handlebar of a motorbike, to be revved until red-hot a revolver with two barrels and, just when you thought he might be over-compensating, an array of cybernetic arms, each with its own propulsive powers. In place of a gardener with sufficiently biblical shears, we have hero Nero, who, despite having his arm hacked off, is hardly short-handed. Or, more specifically, Hell’s front garden: we have brambles wrapped round buildings, a legion of infernal insects, and an enormous, bloodthirsty tree cutting upwards into the clouds. At the beginning of Devil May Cry 5, the city of Red Grave – which looks like London if it grew out its Gothic patches – is besieged by the forces of Hell.
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