The little Boston Terrier realized it had been an absolute fool. Since when did kind-hearted cats exist in this world?
"Joestar-san, what's our next move?"
Stepping out of a rather expensive car, a dark-skinned man with dreadlocks turned to the elderly gentleman beside him.
Muhammad Avdol, an Egyptian fortune teller and fellow Stand user. Ironically for a fortune teller, his ability had nothing to do with divination. His Stand, which he'd named Magician's Red, wielded fire-breathing abilities.
"Hmm... let me think." The man addressed as Joestar beckoned to the Speedwagon Foundation staff member behind them.
The employee obligingly handed over a brand-new Polaroid camera.
Purple vines extended from the old man's arm, and in a single knife-hand chop, he smashed the camera in two.
Damaged though it was, a photo slowly printed from the wreckage.
At first, pitch black and featureless. But under the influence of the Stand called Hermit Purple, the image gradually resolved into a crystal-clear picture—the kind only someone with absolutely zero hand tremor could capture.
An alleyway. The angle conveniently framed a storefront sign hanging at the mouth of the alley, clear enough to serve as a landmark.
Joseph Joestar. His Stand ability allowed him to obliterate a thirty-thousand-yen camera with a single palm strike—no, wait. It was Spirit Photography.
He actually had several mediums available for Spirit Photography—a TV set, for instance, or even sketching useful patterns directly in sand on the ground. But the most reliable method remained the intimate, zero-distance encounter with a Polaroid camera, even if it meant burning through one per use.
Joseph rubbed his chin. "This kind of alley feels like we just passed one a minute ago."
"Manhattan is full of alleys like this, Joestar-san." Avdol scanned the area, seeing nothing matching the sign in the photo. "But we should be able to track it down by asking the locals. Be careful, Joestar-san—a dog's sense of smell is sharp. At this distance, it's probably already picked up our scent. If it's the skittish type, just showing intent to approach will spook it into running."
"Mm..."
This expedition's sole objective was to capture that little Boston Terrier. Avdol's divination had identified a Stand user corresponding to the Tarot Card "The Fool," and Joseph's Spirit Photography had pinpointed its exact location and appearance. Technically, this counted as "recruitment," but you couldn't exactly reason with a stray dog, so the plan was to catch the mutt that had reportedly been causing the local residents quite a bit of trouble, then attempt to tame it.
The purpose? To prepare for the confrontation with the enemy of the Joestar bloodline—Dio Brando.
"MROWAAAGH!"
Right on cue, a cat shriek erupted behind Joseph—shrill and strangled, like a feline in heat.
"Hm? Where'd this stray cat come from? Filthy thing, making that disgusting noise. Shoo, shoo..." The Speedwagon employee trailing the pair waved it away in disgust.
"Bastard! How dare you call me a cat!"
Originally a Boston Terrier but now resembling a cow-patterned cat with some truly unfortunate facial markings, the creature couldn't contain its fury and yowled at the man. No matter how hard it tried, though, everything that came out of its mouth hit distinctly feline frequencies.
This was all because of that weird fruit the damn cat had fed it! To think that a dog who prided itself on outsmarting humans had fallen for a trap this basic and completely lacking in sophistication...
It could vaguely sense that all it had gained was the ability to turn into a cat. But having just consumed a Devil Fruit, it obviously had no real control over this power.
"Meow~ (\^\_^\)" Yimi sat poised and elegant atop a trash can lid behind it.
As long as you're a cat too, we're not cat-and-dog enemies anymore!
"You piece of crap! Use that shady Stand of yours and change me back!" The Boston-cat lunged at Yimi in a rage, but without needing to lift a paw she watched it misjudge its suddenly different body and slam headfirst into the trash can.
"Hey, did you find something?" Joseph looked quizzically at his staff, who had stopped following. "I'd recommend you stay in the car. Even a dog can be extremely dangerous to ordinary people if it's a Stand user."
"It's nothing, Joestar-san. There's just a really stupid cat here." The employee said this while looking at the Boston-cat.
"What did you just say, you bastard?!" The Boston-cat's expression shifted to something almost anthropomorphically cold as it glared at the employee.
Wait—what had that man just said? Something about looking for a dog?
The alley was open on both ends, which meant the sign from Joseph's photo was actually at the other end—out of their line of sight.
This dog had been the most frequently pursued stray in this whole stretch of Manhattan, if not the borough. How could that not set off alarm bells?
Joseph scratched his head with his prosthetic hand. "Stupid cat? Ah well, cats—their brains are about this big." He pinched his fingers close together. "Nothing they do surprises me anymore."
"Fair point."
"Heh." The little Boston-cat cracked a grin.
"Meow?" Yimi felt inexplicably offended.
She hopped down from the trash can and padded out of the alley toward the man with the big mouth.
"What's this? A cat with expensive-looking markings?"
"Meow!"
"Joestar-san, look out!" Avdol shouted. The muscular Stand with a turkey-like head materialized behind him, radiating scorching heat.
Most Stands shared the property of being invisible to ordinary people, so he had no qualms about summoning it right on the street.
He had no intention of harming a small animal. On top of that, cats and dogs held sacred significance in the Egypt where he'd grown up. Avdol didn't unleash his steel-melting flames—he simply reached out with Magician's Red's thick arm to intercept her in midair.
"Nani?!"
Bursting out a Japanese-style exclamation of disbelief, Avdol watched Yimi plant both hind legs squarely into Magician's Red's brawny forearm. Then he felt an impact that no cat should physically be capable of producing, and was sent crashing backward into Joseph.
"Joestar-san! Avdol-san!"
"Where did that kind of force come from in a kick? From a cat?" The Boston-cat broke into a cold sweat.
It was fine—the kitty had only given a gentle kick. And besides, the real punishment wasn't in the kick itself.
"Meow!" Yimi whipped her head toward the employee who'd agreed with the old man.
"It's looking at me!" The employee reached for the oversized net meant for catching large dogs.
Wait—would a net even work on this thing?
Yimi pounced, shredding his belt with one swipe, and snatched the keys that clattered loose, clamping them in her mouth.
His car keys, specifically.
Cat-form senses plus the enhanced physique of this particular world let her instantly sniff out which car matched the scent on the keys.
"Shit! It's heading for our car!" Joseph clapped his hands over his face and yelled.
"Meow!" The little Boston-cat suddenly caught on.
"Don't you run, you bastard! Change me back!"
Sand flowed from beneath it toward Yimi, trying to cut her off.
"Sand? What's going on? That cat's markings and coloring..." The employee swallowed hard, a sudden realization dawning. He displayed the frantic excitement of an ordinary person who'd just figured out which animal was the Stand user:
"I've got it, Joestar-san! That dirty cat in the back—it's our target! It was actually a cat all along, but its Stand ability lets it transform into a dog and control and enhance other cats!"
Joseph nodded sagely. "I see. Despite being a mere cat, it has such underhanded tricks!"
"Hah?" The little Boston-cat dug all four paws into the ground and skidded to a halt, shooting the employee a murderous look.