Beneath the narrow sky, the originally somewhat dirty and dilapidated alleyway was imbued with rich colors. The light filtering down from between the tall buildings that formed the narrow sky above, bathed Johnson Joffrey in a silvery glow.
When Giorno Giovanna first saw him, he seemed to be speaking to a girl. A girl with short, curly pink hair—that was Trish Una.
Giorno's footsteps reached Joffrey's ears, not because he was startled by the sound of footsteps, but more because of the throbbing of this bloodline.
The bond connecting several generations, over a hundred years later, seemed to return to that rainy, carriage-overturning night.
The fated connection between Dio Brando and the Joestar Family began then.
Over a hundred years ago, it was also a dilapidated night. Over a hundred years later, it was also this dilapidated alley.
Their reunion seemed particularly miraculous.
Johnson Joffrey's back was quite blurry in the pale daylight. He extended his hand and held it before his eyes. This was a natural gesture, stemming from the connection of blood. His father, Dio Brando, had also made similar gestures, to examine the greenish veins beneath his pale skin.
Can you feel it, Giorno Giovanna, this connection of gravity?
Even without turning around, I know it's you, Giorno, the one connected to me since I came into this world.
Johnson Joffrey turned around and saw his teal eyes, completely different from his own crimson ones. From his eyes, one could see the soul of the first JoJo—
"I have been waiting a long time for you to embark on this destined cycle." Johnson Joffrey spoke, his voice not loud, yet like a sigh, vaguely reaching Giorno's ears.
Their eyes met—
"Giorno," Johnson Joffrey finally spoke aloud, his voice a little different from what Giorno had imagined, "You should know our relationship. Tell me—"
"Why have you been relentlessly pursuing me?"
In the depths of Giorno's teal pupils, the gray-blue sky and Johnson Joffrey were reflected. He frowned slightly and said:
"You know this better than I do, don't you? I need to bring the Boss's daughter back." Giorno said calmly. Johnson Joffrey couldn't help but feel a little impressed. Although Giorno was a genuine thirteen-year-old boy, he possessed a composure that was absolutely no less than his own.
He was a boy who would buy himself ice cream when he got money, and also a gang member who could deliver a righteous Muda to the murderous Cioccolata.
Trish fearfully curled up into a small ball. The current situation was truly too dangerous for her. This was a habit ingrained in her genes, to curl up like a small animal when feeling unsafe.
Her hopeful gaze fell upon Giorno. Was this the person her father sent to save her? Did the two of them know each other? She looked at Johnson Joffrey's tall figure, swallowed, wanting to muster the courage to stand up, and then suddenly heard him speak to Giorno again—
"No, Giorno Giovanna," Johnson Joffrey quickly shook his head. "You're not thinking that."
Giorno unconsciously narrowed his eyes slightly, a habitual action when he faced danger. His mind raced, contemplating the battle that might soon begin, his gaze shifting between Trish, himself, and Joffrey's distance.
Suddenly, Johnson Joffrey's scarlet eyes flashed. He raised his right hand and delivered a chop to Trish's neck. Trish fainted before she could even utter a sound.
Giorno watched his actions with wide eyes.
"Our brotherly conversation doesn't need a woman to interfere," Johnson Joffrey said, looking down at Trish on the ground.
"Giorno, stop talking so much. Tell me, what are you thinking?" Johnson Joffrey raised his eyes to Giorno again.
Giorno didn't know what to say, so he remained silent.
"Your goal isn't to deliver this girl to your Boss," Johnson Joffrey said calmly. They were about ten meters apart. Johnson Joffrey subtly measured the distance, then walked towards him.
"Just stay there," Giorno said loudly, his face expressionless, his tone full of warning. "Don't come any closer. I won't be able to stop myself from attacking."
Joffrey shrugged and smiled. "I understand. I'll stand right here and discuss with you how to kill our common Boss."
Giorno's pupils constricted. How did he know Giorno wanted to kill the Boss? Giorno didn't hesitate to suspect the Boss with the greatest malice, but Bucciarati was fiercely loyal to the organization.
"A man who forever seals away his past, commanding the operations of all Italy from a dark corner, willing to sell drugs to children for money, neither enjoying the adoration of the masses nor participating in the political struggles of the nation."
"What kind of person do you think such a man would be?"
"What exactly do you want to say, Johnson Joffrey!" This was the first time Giorno had called Johnson by his full name.
"He's not human, because he is the Devil."
"Diavolo (Devil)?" Giorno repeated the name, pondering for a moment.
"Giorno, compared to him, who do you think is more like the Devil, me, your brother?"
Giorno looked at Johnson. Half of his face was in the pale sunlight, the other half in the dark shadow, emitting an aura that was not normal. This feeling made Giorno uneasy. If he could, he really didn't want to admit it—the blood connection between him and him.
"Well, I'm not asking you to make a judgment now. You will use your own eyes to judge," Joffrey said with a smile, his tone calm, as if there was no danger. "This woman is yours. Take her to your Boss, and then come back and tell me who the Devil is."
Giorno frowned, unable to believe that the other party would hand Trish over to him so easily.
"What do you want me to do?" Giorno asked sharply. He was still a bit too young, so when facing things, he had to hide his feelings with anger.
"Nothing at all. Just make your judgment, and until the very end, don't let her die. That's all."
"That's it?"
"That's it."
"Once you've made your judgment, please return to my side," Johnson Joffrey said.
"No, that won't happen."
"This is trust between brothers, Giorno. Don't disappoint me. Until the very end, don't let Trish die." With that, Johnson Joffrey picked up Trish and tossed her to Giorno.
Giorno looked down at her and took a deep breath.