Seriously, the Demon King. One of the Great Five. Lord of legions, destroyer of infernal plans, terror of the heavens and the abysses...
He was wearing an orange jumpsuit.
And rubber sandals.
Vergil looked through the thick glass, reinforced with demonic runes of arcane containment, the same ones used to seal entities that tried to devour time.
On the other side of the guest cabin, his mother held the phone with the exhausted expression of someone who had already given up on understanding her own son. He picked up the receiver and said,
"Seriously, man? Are you really going to keep me locked up?"
Sepphirothy raised an eyebrow. "Procedures, if we don't show that even a Demon King can be controlled, what do you think will happen? Besides, it's not that bad."
Vergil opened his mouth, pointed his finger, hesitated… and then just said, "Okay, how long will it be until I'm taken out?"
'…' She sighed, massaging her temple.
