Chapter 17: Jonas-kun VS Alessi
A bloom of agony exploded on Alessi's face, his mind reeling in a state of pure, chaotic shock. He was sent flying, crashing backward into a pile of trash cans. The impact sent them toppling, and a cascade of foul-smelling, filthy garbage rained down upon his head.
He had never, ever imagined that Jonas would be this ferocious as a child. He, a full-grown man and a professional assassin, had been completely overpowered!
Jonas-kun advanced, his small fists clenched, ready to deliver another round of brutal judgment. He wound up for another punch, aiming straight for Alessi's stupid, trash-covered face. But as he stepped forward, he saw it again—Alessi's Stand, [Sethan], stretching out from his shadow on the ground.
Jonas-kun tried to stop, but it was too late. His own shadow had already made contact. He leaped back, clearing the Stand's range, but the damage was done.
His perspective shrank once again. The oversized clothes on his body became even more ridiculously large. This time, he had been regressed to the age of seven.
"You... YOU BRAT!" Alessi shrieked, shoving the trash can off his body and staggering to his feet. He clutched his already swelling, bruised jaw. The time for toying with his victim was over. He was going to kill him.
He reached into his coat and pulled out a pistol and a silencer, his hands shaking as he tried to screw it on.
Jonas-kun's memories fragmented again. At seven years old, most of his current life was a complete blank. But his core remained: the intellect and instincts of a seasoned adult. And when he saw the man pull out a gun, that intellect screamed one word: RUN.
He had a healthy fear of firearms even as an adult. As a seven-year-old, he wasn't about to test his luck. Without a second's hesitation, he shed the impossibly large clothes that were slowing him down and bolted from the alley, clad in nothing but his underwear.
"GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE PEST!" Alessi roared, finally attaching the silencer. He stuffed the gun into his pocket and sprinted out of the alley in hot pursuit.
Back at the airport.
Hol Horse bid a "heartbroken" farewell to the flight attendant whose number he had just secured. He stepped out of the terminal, pulled out the photo of Jonas, and briefly scanned the intelligence report.
He memorized the tavern's location and hailed a cab.
A short while later, he found "La Porte Rouge." He sauntered in, scanned the room... and found nothing. His target wasn't there. And his partner, the one he was supposed to be meeting, was also nowhere to be seen.
No target, no partner. Good grief. What's a guy to do?
Hol Horse shrugged. Well, when in doubt, might as well relax.
He ordered a beer and stepped outside to enjoy it in the afternoon sun. He took a long, satisfying sip—
"PFFFTTT—!"
He spat the beer everywhere.
He was staring, dumbfounded, at the sight of a small child in his underwear sprinting down the middle of the street at full tilt, being chased by a frantic-looking man who looked like he'd just been beaten up and rolled in a dumpster.
Hol Horse and Alessi had never met. They had no idea what the other looked like, let alone what their Stand abilities were. And with Jonas de-aged into a child, Hol Horse had no chance of recognizing his target.
A wide grin spread across his face. The scene reminded him of his own childhood, running from his mother after breaking a window.
"Man, what a town," Hol Horse mused, taking another sip. "Paris is one bizarre place."
He watched idly as the two figures disappeared down the street. But then, a thought struck him. The kid was clearly European. The man chasing him... he looked Egyptian.
Wait a minute! he thought, his eyes widening in sudden, incorrect realization. That guy... he must be a kidnapper!
Alessi, his face a swollen, bruised mess, was gaining on him. The bizarre chase had drawn the stares of countless bystanders, but he didn't care. His eyes were locked on the small, fleeing figure of Jonas-kun.
"That's right, run! Let's see what you do when I catch you, you little worm!" he panted, closing the distance. A seven-year-old's stamina and stride were no match for a grown man's.
Can't keep running, Jonas-kun thought, his little lungs burning. I have to find a way to win!
Just then, he saw it. A narrow, dark alley. And next to it, a bakery. An idea sparked. He veered sharply and darted into the alley.
Alessi, right on his heels, charged in after him. But when he entered the narrow passage, he skidded to a halt. Jonas-kun was gone. Vanished. The alley was a dead end, with nowhere to hide.
But Alessi wasn't an idiot. He spotted the door on the side—a rear entrance to the bakery.
A sadistic grin stretched across his battered face. He reached into his coat, his hand closing around the grip of his silenced pistol. He crept toward the door, his other hand reaching for the knob.
"Pelololololopelopelope..." he giggled. "Where are you hiding, Jonas-kun...? There's nowhere left to run..."
He threw the door open—
"EAT THIS, YOU SON OF A BITCH!"
Jonas-kun, who had been waiting on top of a flour-covered table, had grabbed a massive bag of flour and hurled it with all his might. The white cloud exploded in Alessi's face, a blinding sheet of powder that got past his sunglasses and into his eyes.
"AAAAHH!" he screamed, dropping his pistol to claw at his burning, blinded eyes.
This was the opening Jonas-kun needed. He grabbed the nearest weapon—a heavy, wooden rolling pin—leaped from the table, and brought it down on Alessi's head with a two-handed, full-body swing.
THWACK!
"GAAAH! SO PAINFUL!" Alessi howled, a fresh wave of agony erupting as a dizzying, sickening vertigo washed over him.
No... can't pass out! he thought, his mind reeling. If I pass out, the Stand's effect will end! He'll turn back! All this will be for nothing!
He bit down on his own tongue, hard. The sharp pain snapped him back from the brink of unconsciousness. He blinked, rubbing the last of the flour from his eyes, his vision clearing.
He looked up just in time to see another bag of flour flying at his face.
But he wouldn't be fooled a second time. He lashed out with a fist, punching the bag in mid-air. It exploded, sending a cloud of white dust into the room, momentarily obscuring both of them in a hazy fog.
"You're... you're pretty good," Alessi hissed, wiping the sticky paste of flour and sweat from his face. "Making me look this pathetic..."
But he was done. His patience was gone. He locked his murderous gaze on Jonas-kun.
Jonas-kun stared back, his small chest heaving. His special power was gone, his memory of it erased. He had nothing left to rely on but his own mind. It was time to get serious.