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.
Originally, the only opponent was Formaggio. Since they knew each other's abilities from the start and it was two-on-one, they rescued all the girls Formaggio had shrunk, then used Narancia's great fire to force Formaggio out. Formaggio was supposed to be dead.
Who knew Ghiaccio would descend from the sky, not only extinguishing the fire but also gravely injuring him and Narancia? He had no choice but to use Purple Haze, taking off one of Formaggio's arms.
The battle was fierce for a while, but then, very suddenly, Ghiaccio's phone rang. Everyone tacitly stopped, and Ghiaccio, upon answering the phone, blurted out his mission without thinking.
"The Boss appeared at the hospital?! The Captain is gravely injured?! The Trish we captured isn't the real Trish?!"
Through quick analysis, Fugo understood the situation: the Assassination Team's captain had already engaged the Boss?! The Trish Una they captured was not the real Boss's daughter; the real Boss's daughter must be the one Bucciarati had captured.
Ghiaccio and Formaggio had no choice but to stop fighting and rush to the hospital. Narancia wanted to pursue, but Fugo stopped him. On one hand, since the Boss was already at the hospital, they shouldn't get involved. This was not the time to rush in to save the day or claim credit. It was possible that seeing the Boss's true face in the chaos would mean certain death. On the other hand, they truly couldn't stop Ghiaccio.
This matter that Johnson Joffrey had worried about was finally concluded. What he feared most was any harm coming to Fugo, Narancia, Formaggio, or Ghiaccio.
After explaining the whole situation, Bucciarati ordered them to head to the clock tower on Fort Street.
"I just heard you say they're running to the hospital now," Trish said, her voice hoarse. "What about my mother?"
Bucciarati looked straight ahead, then at Trish in the rearview mirror, and couldn't help but feel sympathy. Trish's feigned strength and calmness made one feel even sadder.
"Trish," Bucciarati said, "I will protect you. And your father… you know, for the Boss to personally come out to protect your mother, I have never seen such a thing."
"You must trust your father."
Bucciarati said indifferently, as if a saint was whispering in her ear, giving Trish a shot of reassurance. She buried her head in her knees, ultimately speechless.
—You must believe in your father; you must believe in Bucciarati.
Giorno glanced at Trish, then looked out the window; he was noncommittal about Bucciarati's words.
Although he and Bucciarati were close friends despite their age difference, they were two entirely opposite people in terms of life and personality.
Bucciarati represented dedication, while Giorno represented endurance. Bucciarati lived in a fundamentally happy family; although he experienced several major upheavals arranged by fate, the word 'love' had always accompanied Bucciarati.
When his father was alive, his father was full of love for him; after joining the gang, he gained the recognition of Fugo and the others through his persistence and principles. Even beyond being a gangster, he secured property for himself in his hometown of Naples. Although he lived in the darkness as a disreputable gangster, he was basically practicing his own code.
But Giorno was different; his life had few major changes, always steeped in suffering. After his birth, his mother was indifferent; there is no crueler punishment in the world than this. As a child, he grew up in insecurity and pain.
Later, his adoptive father would scold him lightly and beat him severely, and he faced racial discrimination from classmates. He had almost no love in his life, as if living in a hermetically sealed box. Such a child could very well have grown up to resemble DIO.
But he did not. Giorno clung tightly to the sliver of light given to him by that gangster, finally growing into an adult within that small box, breaking through it, and becoming a Child of God.
Therefore, Giorno would not say words like — 'You must believe in your father.' Such words could only be spoken by Bucciarati.
On the contrary, Giorno even believed that the Boss might kill Trish's mother, and the Assassination Team wanted to protect her, because people are always driven by their own interests.
The car drove steadily for another ten minutes. Cagliari was not large, and they soon arrived beneath the clock tower on Fort Street. As soon as they got out of the car, they met Fugo and Narancia.
Bucciarati's Team was reformed.
"Your injuries are still quite severe," Abbacchio sighed. "Giorno, heal them."
Fugo was fine, but Narancia's arm was broken. They went into the car and fitted Narancia with a new arm, which left Trish wide-eyed. She hadn't fully awakened her Stand yet, but her Stand had been with her since childhood. She had inadvertently used her Stand to soften the stones that Johnson Joffrey had pulled into her body with his strings.
"Who exactly are you people?"
"Stand Users," Giorno said without looking up, as he treated Narancia's injuries.
Because the car was too crowded, Bucciarati and the others waited outside for the Boss's next command. Only Giorno, Narancia, and Trish remained inside the car.
"I don't care about Stand Users!" Trish, seeing Giorno's nonchalant attitude, became even angrier and shouted loudly, "I'm just a weak woman, why should I be treated like this?!"
"Alright, Narancia!" Giorno said to Narancia.
Narancia gasped and said, "It hurts so much."
"Hey!" Trish roared, looking at the two people in front of her who were ignoring her.
"Because you are the Boss's daughter. This is fate," Giorno finally looked at her and replied.
This sentence completely extinguished Trish's anger. She curled up, tears never falling, and after swallowing hard for a while, she said, "Am I destined to accept my fate?"
Giorno's hand, which was bandaging Narancia, suddenly paused. He looked up at the white clouds outside the window and said—
"No, fate is merely a sleeping slave."