Chapter 37: [Oni]'s Probe
Victor wasn't working alone. He had his younger brother with him. Neither of their Stands excelled at close-quarters combat, so they had devised a plan: Victor would keep eyes on the target while his brother infiltrated the plane. If things went sideways, they would regroup and take Jonas down together.
Victor was confident. With their combined Stand abilities, the fifty-million-dollar bounty was practically theirs. Still, he wouldn't be reckless. He knew the risks. Enya the Hag had warned him about Jonas's first Stand, [Maw]—its ability to inflict soul-crushing agony and travel through shadows. He had to be careful. Getting the money was useless if he spent the rest of his life screaming in phantom pain.
Enya had also mentioned Jonas's other ability: rapid regeneration. Even seemingly fatal blows might not be enough. The kill had to be confirmed, decisively. Victor had already decided: once Jonas was down, he'd take his head clean off. Let's see him regenerate from that.
(If Jonas could hear this, he'd be laughing. They still thought his ability was just regeneration, not true resurrection. It seemed Hol Horse's intel-gathering skills were as sloppy as his loyalty.)
Finally, Enya had mentioned the Stand's transformation—from the small, rat-like [Maw] to this new, humanoid form, its specific abilities unknown.
Victor stared intently at [Oni]. "So, this is the new form..." he muttered.
Suddenly, as if sensing his gaze, [Oni]'s head snapped around. Its piercing, crimson eyes locked onto Victor.
"WHAT?!" Victor flinched, his blood running cold. "Its senses are that sharp?!"
He instantly threw the newspaper back up, hiding his face, but a cold sweat had already broken out on his forehead. Pray he didn't see me. Pray he didn't realize.
He stared intently at an advertisement for discount erectile dysfunction medication, holding his breath, waiting for the inevitable confrontation... but nothing happened.
He... didn't notice?
Victor cautiously lowered the newspaper, peering over the edge to check on Jonas... and nearly screamed.
[Invisible Black Monster: Oni] was crouched directly in front of him, less than a foot away, its emotionless red eyes boring into his soul.
WHAAAAAAAAAT?!!
Victor's heart hammered against his ribs, threatening to burst. Cold sweat drenched his back. He knew, with absolute certainty, that Jonas suspected him. Summoning his own Stand was suicide; its power was subtle, useless in a direct fight against this... thing.
Think! Think! What do I do?!
Act normal! Act like a normal person! Pretend I can't see it!
[Oni] continued to scrutinize him, searching for any flicker of recognition, any sign that he could perceive its presence. Victor forced himself to remain calm, his eyes fixed on the newspaper, pretending to read. He couldn't even run; that would be an admission of guilt. Time seemed to stretch into an eternity. Just go away! he screamed internally. I'm acting normal! Why are you still here?!
After what felt like an hour, [Oni] finally moved. It reached out a black-clad hand... toward Victor's breast pocket. Slowly, deliberately, it slid his wallet out.
Victor didn't move a muscle. He couldn't. A normal person wouldn't see a Stand picking their pocket. He could only feel the faint pressure, the slight shift of fabric...
[Oni] retreated, presenting the wallet to Jonas like a cat bringing its owner a dead mouse.
Victor let out a shaky breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. The wallet didn't matter. It only contained some loose cash, no ID, nothing to link him to anything.
Wait.
A new wave of panic washed over him. No ID?! What kind of normal person carries a wallet with absolutely no identification?! That itself is suspicious!
His heart hammered again. Please don't notice. Please don't notice. He peeked over the newspaper.
Jonas took the wallet, flipped it open, and saw the cash and coins. He emptied it into his hand. "Nice," he said to [Oni], a hint of amusement in his voice. "Found some money?"
[Oni]'s red eyes seemed to crinkle slightly at the corners, like a child being praised.
But then, Jonas frowned. He looked through the empty wallet again. Just cash? No cards? No driver's license? Nothing? It's almost... like he doesn't want anyone to know who he is.
If before, Jonas had just been probing randomly, now he had a reason to be suspicious. His eyes narrowed. He turned his head, his gaze locking onto Victor behind him. He considered just walking over and beating the truth out of the man. If he might be an enemy, why waste time proving it?
But... his flight was boarding soon. Starting a brawl in the middle of the airport would attract security, cause delays... it was too messy. And if the man did turn out to be an assassin and ended up dead, it could ground all flights, mistaking it for a terrorist incident.
Still... there was a little time before boarding. He could test this guy a bit more.
Seeing Jonas looking directly at him, Victor felt his stomach clench. He knows! Why?! You took my money, now you suspect me?! What kind of person ARE you?!
He forced himself to remain calm. He only suspects. He wouldn't dare attack me in public.
Just as he was trying to figure out his next move, a faint sound reached his ears—a tiny, metallic jingle. The sound of small bells. It was distant, hundreds of yards away, barely audible over the airport bustle. But Victor heard it. And he instantly relaxed.
That's the signal! It was the pre-arranged, non-electronic signal from his younger brother, Little Victor. It meant the plan was proceeding, and his brother had likely noticed his predicament. It meant it was time to regroup.
Once we're together, Victor thought, a surge of confidence returning, our Stands combined... we're invincible! Just get to the rendezvous point... and then we finish him!
With newfound resolve, Victor calmly folded his newspaper, picked up his briefcase, and stood up, acting exactly like a passenger heading to his gate. He began walking, slowly but deliberately, in the direction of the faint, beckoning bells.