"Oh, her," Diavolo thought. "I absolutely cannot let Bucciarati come to the hospital. That would expose me and risk encountering members of the Assassination Team. Trish must not fall into their hands again."
"I've already sent people to handle it. The only thing you need to do now is bring Trish to the clock tower on Fort Street."
"Yes, BOSS."
Diavolo breathed a sigh of relief, then pulled open the door, took off his coat, and randomly found a blue sweater and a black jacket to put on. His muscles began to shrink, and even his height changed, finally transforming into the appearance of a young man.
Diavolo could control Torbio's body. While controlling him, his pupils remained heterochromatic and double-lidded, and the demonic, evil aura from Diavolo was impossible to conceal.
He hurried downstairs, head bowed, appearing perfectly natural, like a family member visiting a patient. In less than a few minutes, he reached the hospital lobby, then accidentally bumped into a burly man.
"What are you doing, you bastard!"
Diavolo instinctively looked up and saw a fierce-looking, green-haired man—
It was Pesci!? And Prosciutto was standing right beside him. This duo seemed to be in a hurry, likely having received Melone's message.
Diavolo couldn't help but curse under his breath, what terrible luck. He secretly swore he would never set foot in the city of Cagliari again. He angrily raised his eyes and glared at Pesci. Pesci, struck by the evil pupils, felt the ingrained timidity rise again.
"Pesci, what the hell are you doing?! Hurry up, the captain is in danger!"
The situation was too urgent for Prosciutto to notice anything unusual about the passerby who bumped into Pesci.
Pesci had originally wanted to say that the passerby was a bit strange, but after Prosciutto's scolding, he became flustered and quickly followed his big brother.
Diavolo stood still, expressionless, with killing intent in his half-lidded eyes. He turned his head to look at their retreating backs, then looked around. The hospital lobby was too crowded; to kill them, he would have to go to the stairwell, but that would take too long.
Heaven's Whisper had stated that Bucciarati was the one to end the Assassination Team. It was best not to easily change destiny.
"What does he mean?!" Trish, hugging her knees in the back seat of the car, shouted again, "Why?! Is he not caring about my mother?!"
She yelled like a spoiled young lady, tears welling up but held back. "We're almost at the hospital! I won't be at ease until I see my mother!"
Bucciarati only gave her a silent profile. She looked at Giorno sitting next to her. Giorno, looking helpless, pretended not to hear and gazed out the window, enjoying the scenery. She suddenly thought that Johnson knocking her out before speaking was an incredibly correct decision.
Women are so annoying.
Seeing Giorno, who was about her age, remain silent, she reached out and tugged Bucciarati.
"What about my mother? What about her?"
"The Boss said he's already found someone to save her."
"I don't believe it! I want to see my mother safe and sound with my own eyes!" With a hint of grievance, Trish had originally thought she was just an ordinary little girl, but all of this had been thrown into chaos by this father she had never met.
Being able to hold on until now already proved she was a strong girl.
She hugged her knees, knowing that Bucciarati's stubbornness was irreversible; this seemingly gentle person was actually extraordinarily obstinate. Once he set his mind on something, he would undoubtedly see it through, and he would place immense trust in those he believed in.
He didn't look like a gangster at all.
The car drove steadily, just like Bucciarati's personality.
The sound of a phone ringing echoed, and Abbacchio quickly answered it.
"Fugo! Are you two alright?!"
"We're okay. Narancia and I got a bit injured, and the Assassination Team isn't doing much better, but the enemy ran off."
"Who were the people you encountered?!"
"It was Formaggio, who shrinks people, and Ghiaccio, who manipulates ice. We were fighting halfway when they received an order and fled. It seems they're rushing to the hospital."
Hearing the word "hospital," Trish, who had buried her face in her knees, looked up, her eyes wide.
"Are your injuries serious? They're not too bad. Ghiaccio was difficult to deal with. Narancia and I have many places that were frozen and shattered, but he also took a bullet. They discovered the weakness at the back of his neck and shot him with a Smith."
Bucciarati gestured for Abbacchio to hand the phone to him, and Abbacchio placed the phone to his ear.
"Fugo, come to the clock tower on Fort Street in Cagliari now. We'll hand Trish over to the Boss there."
Fugo heard Bucciarati's voice and looked at Narancia, who was covered in blood. Because of their battle with Ghiaccio, they both had sustained more or less severe injuries, but the initial order was to split up. He and Narancia were assigned to pick up a girl named Trish Una, who was suspected to be the Boss's daughter.