Chapter 42: The Victor Brothers, Who Never Even Summoned Their Stands

The restroom was a warzone. The stall doors were ripped from their hinges, and the porcelain of the toilets and urinals had been pulverized into shrapnel.

But the most pathetic sight of all was Victor. He was a bruised, bloody, and broken heap, draped over the remains of a toilet like a discarded rag.

"No... no more..." he gurgled, his voice thick and wet. He was missing even more teeth now. "I... I surrender..."

His plea was useless. [Oni] wasn't listening. It seemed to decide that its bare fists were too merciful. It let its hand dissolve into black particles, which then reformed into a solid, heavy baseball bat.

With a chilling, professional thud... thud... thud... [Oni] tapped the bat against its open palm as it advanced.

Victor knew Jonas wouldn't stop. He knew he was going to die. Think! How do I break this?! He desperately tried to recall his brother's lectures on "battle analysis"... 'Observe the enemy... find their weakness... strike at the critical moment!'

[Oni] was right in front of him. It raised the bat high.

Is that "battle-turning insight" even a real thing?! Victor's mind screamed in a final, blank panic. Why can't I find the opening?!

In that last, lucid moment, he finally, truly understood why his brother had always called him an idiot.

CRACK!

The bat connected squarely with Victor's skull. The last of his teeth were sent scattering like broken chiclets. He was thrown against the far wall, where he left a bloody smear as he slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Victor, from beginning to end, had failed to even summon his Stand.

[Oni] casually tossed the bat aside, letting it dissolve into particles. It then formed a short blade and, with cold efficiency, plunged it into Victor's heart.

As the man's life faded, his shadow writhed and was siphoned into [Oni]'s body.

Outside, Jonas felt the familiar rush of power... but it was weaker this time. Disappointing. The boost... it's nothing compared to J. Geil's, he mused. Is it based on the user's mental strength? Or perhaps their emotional state at the moment of death?

He'd have to run more... experiments... later.

The restroom went dead silent.

In the crowd, Little Victor's heart stopped. No... brother...

He watched as the first, brave security guards finally arrived, followed by armed police. They'd been delayed because Victor had, apparently, retired the first responders.

"He's in there! He's armed and extremely dangerous!"

"That lunatic... he's already taken down several of our men!"

They took up tactical positions, guns aimed at the door. "He's barricaded it!"

"Breach it! Now!"

A large officer slammed his shoulder into the door. It shuddered, and on the second impact, burst open. The police stormed in... and froze.

The room was a warzone. And in the middle of it, Victor lay in a pool of blood and filth, his body mutilated, a dagger buried in his chest.

From the crowd, Little Victor saw it all. His brother... was dead.

A cold, profound, murderous rage filled his heart. Jonas...

He had to kill Jonas. Now. He slipped away from the crowd. The airplane plan was dead. His Stand required stealth. He needed to strike Jonas from a hidden location, to catch him completely off guard. He found an empty employee lounge. This was it.

He reached for his power... and a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

Little Victor froze, his blood turning to ice. He slowly... turned... his head.

[Oni]'s cold, red-eyed, featureless face was inches from his.

When...?! How did he...?

Before he could even think of a command, [Oni]'s fist slammed into his head. The nascent, unformed energy of his Stand dissipated instantly. Damn it! he thought, his vision swimming. He's too close! My Stand... it's being suppressed!

He stumbled backward, trying to create distance, and bumped into someone. A hand, a human hand, landed on his other shoulder.

Little Victor spun around and looked up... into the cold, smiling, utterly merciless eyes of Jonas Jourdan.

"Now," Jonas whispered, "my-little-assassin-kun... Why don't you tell me where I can find Enya the Hag?"

Little Victor's mind raced. He was checkmated. He was just a mercenary. His brother was dead, the mission was a failure... survival was all that mattered.

"I... I'll tell you!" he stammered. "I'll tell you everything! Just... just let me go!"

"You think you're in a position to negotiate?" Jonas's smile faded. [Oni] stepped forward, a short blade forming in its hand.

"NO! WAIT! I'LL TALK!" Little Victor shrieked. "She... she's in Cairo! Egypt! That's all I know! We can't contact her! She's the one who contacts us! I swear, that's everything!"

Jonas nodded. Cairo. That narrowed it down.

"So," Little Victor pleaded, his voice a pathetic squeak. "We're good? You'll let me go?"

Jonas looked at him. Then he looked at [Oni].

A second [Oni] materialized behind Little Victor, its blade already formed. It plunged the sword straight through the assassin's back and out his chest.

Little Victor looked down at the blade, his eyes wide with disbelief. But... I told him... he thought, a bloody cough rattling his small frame. I told him... everything...

He slumped to the floor, dead.

The tragic Victor brothers, eliminated without ever once managing to summon their Stands.

...

Stand User: Victor

Stand Name: ??????

Destructive Power: —

Speed: —

Range: —

Stamina: —

Precision: —

Developmental Potential: —

...

Stand User: Little Victor