After the first Devil May Cry had stunned me and knocked me for six, I could not believe how well it had aged. Like a fine wine it had matured with time and had a distinct, rich flavour. It bruised me with its difficulty and lavished my eyes with its epic charm, right from start to finish.
The second instalment did not have the same effect. If anything it only served to highlight why sometimes a great original, does not mean a great sequel. My thoughts drifted to the depths; my only hope was that the third instalment had turned this whole thing around. Devil May Cry 3 was the road that lay ahead.
