The afternoon sun scorched the earth, and in a place like the desert the temperature climbed to a staggering forty-plus degrees Celsius. Aside from heat-hardy plants like cacti, nothing could survive here for long.
Based on what they'd learned from Ganlu Town's original residents, Ray Chu and Joseph drove all the way to the desert border—to a Nazi base established in southern Mexico. Towering tropical shrubs and distinctly Mexican architecture mixed together, giving the place the feel of a rainforest outpost.
"According to what Straizo told us, Grandpa Speedwagon was taken by the Nazis along with whatever was inside that ruin. And this is one of their most important bases in Mexico."
Joseph lay prone at a distance, watching through binoculars. At the only entrance, a pair of Nazi soldiers stood guard. Anyone who wanted in had to pass a strict inspection.
It was 1938. The Third Reich had just annexed Austria, and all of Europe was already under the Nazi shadow. The Führer had an extraordinary fascination with things like Alchemy, Black Magic, and super ancient beings, and under him were specialized teams devoted to researching exactly that sort of project.
"But… how do we get inside?" Joseph muttered.
At the gate, a line of women had formed—locals who came to earn money as domestic workers. They were being subjected to the soldiers' "searches," the kind that were really just groping in uniform.
Joseph's eyes suddenly lit up. "I've got it!"
A moment later, a "lady" strode toward the gate—tall, broad-shouldered, with thick, bristly leg hair—swaying her hips as she went. She tossed the guards a coquettish wink.
"I'm here to deliver tequila. Can you let a girl through?"
The air seemed to freeze.
The Nazi soldiers instantly raised their guns and roared, "Hands up!"
"Don't do anything weird! Get on the ground! Move even a little and I'll shoot!"
"Huh? Why? Why are you being like this all of a sudden?" Joseph whined, playing it up. "Aren't you gonna search me? I'm delivering tequila, you knooow~"
"He moved! Open fire! Shoot that thing!" The two soldiers' faces twisted, fingers already tightening on the triggers.
"Don't shoot! I surrender!" Joseph shot both hands into the air. "Damn it! Nazis really are something—seeing through my cross-dressing disguise!"
"Idiot! Anyone could tell at a glance—it's disgusting."
"What kind of woman is that tall and covered in muscles? Would you take an objective look at yourself? Moron!"
"Hmph!" Joseph—raised from childhood by his grandmother to be a proper gentleman—had always been supremely confident in his looks. The slander hit him right where it hurt. He suddenly jabbed a finger upward. "Look—a UFO!"
"What UFO? You think we're idiots?"
"Kill him! I can't stand it another second!"
The next instant, a figure dropped from above. Two fingers flicked out, tapping the back of each soldier's neck at the same time. Their bodies convulsed violently, and then—
Thud.
They collapsed.
The pressure-point techniques Ray Chu had learned from Cologne took only a little force to incapacitate someone. And against Nazis, he had no reason to hold back. That single tap had completely destroyed their central nervous systems—those two would spend the rest of their lives in a wheelchair.
"Hmph! No matter how crafty you are, you'll still end up face-down when the two of us work together!" Joseph said with a prim little hmph, dragging the soldiers into the shadows as he prepared to strip them and put on their uniforms to slip inside.
Swish!
A sudden gust of killing intent skimmed across his cheek, leaving a long, thin cut. Bright red blood welled immediately.
"Damn you, damn you, damn you, damn you! You filthy ants! How dare you keep me waiting!" a voice shrieked, manic with rage. "I'll make you bleed out drop by drop—slowly—until you die in agony under the sun!"
With that neurotic howl, a brawny man with sharp, Germanic features appeared atop the wall. Behind him stood a row of Nazi soldiers with guns.
As the most elite tracker in the Nazi ranks, Captain Donovan should've intercepted Joseph back in the desert. But the speed of the off-road supercar was too insane—he'd been left eating dust.
So he'd changed tactics, waiting for them here at the Nazi "Santana" base instead. It went against the practical style of an intelligence chief like him, but it was the only way.
"Who are you? I don't know you!" Joseph pointed at him with his right hand.
"Heh-heh-heh… of course you don't know me. But I know you, Joseph Joestar. To think you'd find this place—no wonder that old man valued you."
"Old man?!" Joseph's instincts were razor-sharp; he pounced on the implication immediately. "So Grandpa Speedwagon really is in your hands, you Nazi bastard!"
"Correct! Speedwagon is inside the base. But against the iron wall of German manhood, your little adventure ends here!"
The German's eyes swept over the two below. He had no interest whatsoever in Ray Chu's pretty-boy face; with a wave of his hand, he issued orders.
"You deal with that kid. As for Joseph—Captain Donovan will take him personally."
"Yes, sir!" the Nazi soldiers answered in unison, then unleashed a volley at Ray Chu.
Ray Chu rolled—and vanished from where he'd stood, moving so fast his silhouette couldn't even be caught.
"Huh? Where'd he go?"
The "tagalong," the one Donovan had assumed was disposable, hadn't turned out weak at all. Especially not that burst of speed in the instant he dodged the gunfire—it made Donovan's heart jolt.
"He's above!"
The next moment, a figure dropped from the sky—Ray Chu. His steps seemed to skim the air itself as he flashed through the Nazi squad at frightening speed. Screams erupted one after another, and every soldier with a gun went limp, collapsing like mud.
"W-What?!" Thinking you'd caught a little bunny, only for it to turn into a prehistoric tyrant lizard in the blink of an eye—Donovan couldn't accept that kind of reversal.
"Well, well…" Joseph cracked his knuckles, grinning as he threatened, "Looks like you're the one surrounded now. Be smart and surrender. Tell me where Grandpa Speedwagon is, and I might spare your life."
A bead of cold sweat slid down Donovan's brow. He tightened his grip on the short dagger in his hand and snarled, "Don't make me laugh! This is German territory. It won't take long before my elite troops surround this place!"
Joseph dug his pinky in his ear, then flicked it away with open contempt. "Oh? Then why don't I hear anything?"
Silence. Dead silence.
With all the screaming and gunfire just now, the base should've reacted long ago—yet there was no response at all from underground.
"B-Bastard! Impossible!" Donovan's expression shifted violently. With a furious roar, he charged straight at Joseph.
"For the glory of Germany!"
"Take this! Housewife's Grudge Skirt-Shroud!" Joseph flung the women's outfit he'd just taken off, whipping it over Donovan's head. The instant Donovan's vision was blocked, Joseph drove a savage punch in—
"AaaoooOOO!!"
But the scream wasn't Donovan's.
It was Joseph's—tears and snot streaming down his face.
Somehow, Donovan had slipped free in the blink of an eye. A knuckle spike gleamed on his right hand, and Joseph's powerful punch had slammed straight into the metal barbs, splitting flesh open—his bone nearly snapping under the impact.
---
T/N: .... what even is jojo
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