"Can you even be sure?" Abbacchio said angrily, seeing Giorno pull the car over. "Is it even this way?!"
Giorno took out the map, placed it on the steering wheel, and carefully examined the route. He frowned, putting a loosely clenched fist to his mouth, revealing a maturity beyond his years, completely ignoring the somewhat angry Abbacchio.
"Abbacchio," Bucciarati reprimanded from the back, "Don't distract Giorno from his judgment."
Compared to before Mista's betrayal, Giorno had gained more favor with Bucciarati's Team. This was because he claimed that Mista had coerced him into using a computer to contact the Assassination Team, and he, risking being killed by the angry and treacherous Mista, had informed the organization of all the news of his betrayal.
This allowed the organization to react quickly and intercept the Assassination Team at the port. Although the Bodyguard Team was completely wiped out, Giorno's loyalty was evident.
A moment later, Giorno stepped on the accelerator and continued forward. "We can't stop," Giorno said. "As soon as we stop, the distance will increase, and their position will become even more blurred."
Giorno's voice had become even lower than before, probably because he had seen Risotto again and heard him mention Johnson. It was almost expected that Mista would reveal that he was Johnson Joffrey's brother.
It was probably gravity, an ability to sense gravity coming from Johnson Joffrey. He finally knew I was his brother, what would his reaction be?
Giorno understood who his biological father really was; he was probably a complete villain. His own existence might just be a burden. One of his goals was to hear Johnson talk about his father, but now the man named DIO was no longer important.
Whenever he met someone who knew his father, he would naturally ask about Dio. He knew nothing about his father's name, identity, or life.
Giorno was driving. He had only just learned to drive, having taught himself by reading books. Today was his third time behind the wheel. He glanced at Bucciarati in the rearview mirror, and Bucciarati's calm gaze made him feel at ease. After all, it was Bucciarati, the person who had always trusted him.
Bucciarati trusted him so much. He had been directly identified by Risotto as Johnson Joffrey's brother, and after that, he should have been very wary of him. Moreover, all their abilities had already been revealed to the Assassination Team, but he still decided to go kill the Assassination Team and even wanted him to navigate.
In his eyes, Bucciarati's existence was like that of a father and a brother. Regardless of whether Johnson Joffrey was his brother, Bucciarati was more like his own blood brother.
Bucciarati, no matter what, I will definitely achieve our dream.
The atmosphere inside the car was not very lively. This time, Risotto directly pointed out that Giorno was Johnson's brother, which, ironically, dispelled some of Fugo's suspicion towards Giorno. Johnson Joffrey also didn't know that Giorno was his brother; the entire matter of being brothers was based on Giorno's intuition and deduction.
Moreover, Mista's betrayal had exposed all of his abilities.
"I don't understand," Fugo said. "When did Mista learn all of our abilities? He should only have known Abbacchio's ability."
"Bucciarati," Fugo turned his head and looked at Bucciarati, "Don't tell me you told him everything."
"No, there wasn't enough time. He only joined the team this morning. How could he have figured everything out?" Bucciarati was equally confused.
Not to mention, he even knew Giorno's Stand, even though Giorno had never once demonstrated his ability. They didn't know Giorno's specific ability.
"I suspect it's not Mista," Giorno suddenly said. "Mista absolutely couldn't have known our Stand Abilities."
Then how did he know?
"Perhaps he was always with the Assassination Team, and he joined us to gather information," Abbacchio said. "He's been observing us for a long time."
Fugo nodded. Bucciarati, however, did not agree. He looked out at the fleeting scenery outside the car window, his brows unfurrowed, his gaze resolute.
He still believed that when he met Mista, he was harmless, and Bucciarati had thoroughly investigated his life experience before allowing him to join, so someone like him would have no chance of coming into contact with the Assassination Team.
"Bang!"
The sound of a door being completely knocked open startled the family, and a mother quickly got up from the bed, coming out with her husband in a panic.
Were they robbers?
As soon as they rushed out the door, they saw several burly men breaking in. One man with blue curly hair was smashing everything in the room.
The hostess quickly turned on the light, and the host took a hunting rifle from the fireplace.
"Are you robbers?!" he yelled incredulously, pointing at the men, "Don't move, I'm going to shoot."
"Bang!"
Two gunshots rang out simultaneously!
His hands trembled as he pulled the trigger, and a bullet flew out. Opposite him, a man wearing a red plaid hat casually fired a shot, and his agile bullet was deflected by another bullet, like something out of a movie.
"You dare to play with guns in front of me?" Mista sneered dismissively.
The host was so scared that he dropped his gun. The blue curly-haired man grabbed him by the collar, "Is Trish Una here?!"
"Please, spare us, she's my stepdaughter."
Ghiaccio knocked the man unconscious, throwing him to the ground, his gaze falling on the girl cowering by the side of the room with a terrified expression.
She looked no more than fifteen.
"Ghiaccio!" Risotto reprimanded from outside the door, "Don't involve innocent people."
This was an old house, and Risotto was a bit tall, so he had to watch the doorframe when entering.
The girl's mother hugged Ghiaccio's leg, crying loudly, "Let my daughter go!!"
Risotto walked up to the young girl, examining her closely.
—She had brown hair, green eyes, the look of a girl in her prime, but not necessarily beautiful. She stared with wide, tearful eyes, trembling and unable to speak.
Ghiaccio kicked the mother away.
"Ghiaccio, I told you, don't involve innocent people," Risotto scolded sharply.
Ghiaccio, having been scolded, shrugged and stood to the side.
Melone walked up to the weeping mother, licked his lips, and asked, "Solido Naso, does that name ring a bell? Have you slept with him?"
The mother paused, then shook her head vigorously.
"No, no, really no," the mother cried, repeating herself.
Melone seemed a little disappointed. Risotto walked up to the mother and said, "I'm very sorry, but we need to take your daughter. Afterwards, we will give you a sum of money and return your daughter to you unharmed."
"Don't worry," Mista interjected, "We'll protect her well. We're just borrowing her. We're professionals at protecting people."
Johnson Joffrey was outside the door and did not enter. He glanced at Trish Una from afar, his brows furrowed with some anxiety.
"No, not the Boss's daughter."
Risotto pondered for a moment. They had started searching for the Boss's daughter as soon as they left, checking several places, but found no clues.
Melone opened his laptop and said, "There are 22 left. 15 have re-established families, 5 are orphans, and 2 are from single-parent homes."
Formaggio held a bag and opened it in front of the girl. Inside were rows of small boxes, each containing—
A young girl!
Trish Una's mouth hung open in surprise, unable to accept any of this, as terrifying as when she and her classmates watched the movie Thumbelina.
She couldn't accept such a mythical existence right before her eyes.
Formaggio reached out and cut her finger. The young girl found herself shrinking, becoming like something out of a fairy tale.
"Help… help…" She fainted before she could finish speaking.
Formaggio skillfully placed the young girl into his small box, like a pervert collecting beautiful girls.
All the girls in the boxes had the same name—
Trish.
— — — —
"I, The Favorability Plunderer"
PY, sorry for the late update.