In the dim apartment, there was an exhaust fan, and sunlight streamed in through it.
In the straight beam of light, countless dust particles could be seen floating.
"Bastard! Bastard! Bastard!" Ghiaccio's voice was always loud as he kicked the bathroom door forcefully.
"Next time you assassinate Melone, call me! ...No, wait, it's Moroni! Damn it, who invented italian!" (Note: Moroni is the chairman of Italy's largest hot water supplier, and it sounds similar to Melone, but the spelling is different.)
It was obvious there was no hot water.
Even the slightest problem could enrage Ghiaccio, a temper that was the exact opposite of his Stand, White Album.
Melone sat on the sofa with a laptop on his lap, completely ignoring Ghiaccio's shouts from the bathroom.
From time to time, he would lightly lick his lips, smiling: "So he's an Aquarius! That fits perfectly."
Pesci stood behind his big brother, wanting to find a place to sit, but feeling like there was no room for him.
Everyone liked to tease Pesci, so he just kept standing, serving as a potted plant.
Normally, his big brother would scold him for being so awkward, but today, his big brother remained silent.
Illuso leaned back on the sofa, crossing his legs, and shouted with his eyes closed: "Why isn't Risotto here yet?"
"The Captain also received a package." Pesci's big brother, Prosciutto, made a fist with both hands, brought them to his mouth, and looked thoughtful.
"What's wrong?" Formaggio came from the kitchen with instant coffee; a cat relentlessly chased him.
He turned and fiercely told the cat: "Stop following me!"
"The Captain said he was preparing a property in Naples for his nephew, and even we didn't know where it was."
"Hmm? And then?" Melone asked him with a lively tone, looking up.
"But he also received a package, which means this person knows even the Captain's movements perfectly."
Hearing this, everyone became serious, their gazes falling on the unopened packages piled in front of the sofa.
As assassins, they wouldn't easily open unfamiliar parcels.
"Click—" The door made a sound, attracting everyone's attention.
Risotto walked into the room expressionlessly, his gaze sweeping around.
Everyone quickly stood up, then watched in surprise as a boy followed him in.
He looked to be less than 15 years old, still very young, with blond hair and uncommon red eyes, though they were similar to his uncle Risotto's.
"My nephew, Johnson Joffrey," Risotto said coldly.
Everyone looked confused, but they didn't ask any further questions.
Johnson Joffrey looked around at the several stylishly dressed individuals who remained silent. From the bathroom, curses like, "Melone, you spineless turtle!" could be heard intermittently.
"Hey—Ghiaccio, the captain's here!" Melone finally couldn't take it anymore and yelled into the bathroom, "Stop cursing Melone! He's already dead! And when you curse him, I always feel like my reputation is being tarnished."
"Bang!"
Ghiaccio kicked open the door, still muttering curses, and his gaze fell upon Johnson.
"Who's this kid?!" He looked surprised, walked directly in front of Johnson, dripping with water, poked Johnson's chest, and asked condescendingly, "Who are you, kid?"
"Johnson Joffrey."
"Why are you speaking English, you jerk? This is Italy!" Ghiaccio narrowed his eyes, his temper flaring, "Are you an American?"
"I heard you Americans are super rich, is that true?! Huh! I'm asking you!"
"Hey—Ghiaccio!" Melone said, "That's the captain's nephew, just arrived from America."
"Johnson," Risotto turned to look at Johnson Joffrey, "He is also a Stand User, and he wants to avenge his father, my brother."
A biting chill emanated from Ghiaccio, but Johnson's calm, crimson eyes completely ignored him. No one knew who his enemy was. In any case, Pesci saw something even colder than Ghiaccio in those calm, crimson eyes.
"So what does this mean?" Prosciutto pointed at the packages.
Risotto naturally walked over and sat on the sofa, "I've already opened them. They are human tissue slices."
"..."
"Is this some kind of prank?"
"No, more than that," Prosciutto frowned, "I'd rather know whose they are..." human tissue slices.
"I don't know," Risotto said, "but I have a bad feeling. Open them all up and piece them together."
The Assassination Team members hurriedly opened them all—
The incomplete human form slowly began to reveal its original appearance... "...Damn it," Ghiaccio's voice began to drop.
Pesci suddenly covered his mouth to stop himself from actually throwing up, instinctively looking at his elder brother, who remained silent at this moment... "It's the boss," Risotto replied simply.
"So the reason Gerard committed suicide was..."
Did he watch Sobel being dismembered, and unable to bear it, commit suicide?
Darkness enveloped the cramped little room; a single, straight ray of faint light wrapped around the entire room, and the sunlight was obscured into a dim yellow. In that instant, the once lively house suddenly became terrifyingly quiet, exuding a lonely chill. The heat of early summer completely disappeared, and the human organs quietly placed in front of the sofa added an unspeakable sense of horror to this summer... "..."
"...Damn...damn it."
"Why did the boss do this to us?"
"Gerard and Sobel were very greedy, dissatisfied with the Boss for money," Risotto said calmly, "Their abilities were too suitable for tracking."
Johnson looked at the quietly arranged human tissue slides, and even he felt a bit disgusted by them.
Joining the Assassination Team was a rather dangerous undertaking, but it was also the only way to obtain the arrow. If he investigated Diavolo's appearance online, he could find Polnareff and get the arrow from him.
That was the only way to awaken Requiem, and awakening Requiem would definitely achieve the 'Best Villain, Extremely Powerful' accomplishment.
This was Johnson's true goal.
His gaze once again lingered on Sobel's severed limbs, as if it were a warning of the fate of anyone who dared to approach the boss.
"This matter... should we still blame Gerard for being too greedy?" Ghiaccio's voice came from deep in his throat, completely different from his usual outbursts. This time, he was truly furious, this patient with a short temper.
"That scoundrel, how much money did he really give us? Can't we see that he stopped wanting us a long time ago?"
"Hey—Ghiaccio!"
"You shut up, Melone," Ghiaccio said menacingly. "We are the strongest team in the entire gang, but what about it? We kill and burn every day, yet we get the least amount of money. The captain should have been promoted to an executive long ago, right? But now, Polpo, that dead fat man, is still riding on our heads."
"Don't say any more, Ghiaccio," Risotto's calm eyes showed no emotion. "We'll hold their funeral tomorrow. This matter, no one is to mention it again..."
Johnson glanced at the members of the Assassination Team. Not a single one of them was a coward, yet all of them submitted to Risotto, which showed his leadership and judgment.
Johnson originally wanted to find a turning point to change Risotto's mind, but it was actually unnecessary. Although they wouldn't openly resist Diavolo, in reality, the resistance had already begun. However, they had to wait until Diavolo's daughter, Trish, appeared, Giorno Giovanna killed Polpo, and Bucciarati got the chance to become an executive before this golden wind could truly blow.
But the golden wind would truly blow two years later, meaning it would take the Assassination Team two years to discover Trish as the key to leverage Diavolo's existence. Furthermore, without Bucciarati's Team's Blue Lagoon, they wouldn't be able to get Diavolo's true appearance, let alone contact Polnareff.
All the members of the Assassination Team remained silent for a long time, finally leaving without a word.
Only Johnson and Risotto remained.
"It's a real shame. You just joined the Assassination Team, and we're about to collectively defect."
"Defect?"
"Those guys, they won't stop just because I tell them to."
—
Although no one is watching, there's another chapter coming up (obedient.jpg)