This Is a Trial

It was late into the night, and the dim coliseum was silent, save for the chirping of insects in the corners.

As they were about to enter the coliseum, Dawn gently set Bucciarati down, letting him lean against a Roman column to rest.

He then softly said, "Bucciarati, you're not feeling well. I'll handle the rest."

Bucciarati opened his pale eyes, pricked up his ears to listen carefully, then nodded and said with difficulty, "Please, Mr. Dawn."

With that, Bucciarati closed his eyes, awaiting Dawn's good news.

His body, burdened beyond its limits, had nearly crushed his spirit. If he hadn't been holding on by a thread, Bucciarati would have already passed on.

Dawn nodded in agreement, stood up, and walked towards the coliseum entrance, his figure gradually disappearing into the darkness.

Before long, another set of hurried footsteps could be heard.

Tobio poked his head out, glancing at Bucciarati. He had no desire to get entangled with his former colleague.

This guy's condition was very wrong, and he didn't pose much of a threat.

His heartbeat was almost nonexistent, his breathing faint, barely different from a dead person's.

He was no threat.

Tobio had no intention of attacking. He just wanted to enter the coliseum as quickly as possible and find Dawn.

The target of this group of traitors was very clear. It seemed the Boss's guess was indeed correct.

There must be some crucial item in the coliseum, or something else, that made them so focused on it.

"Trish?"

Bucciarati suddenly turned his head, his pale eyes fixed on Tobio.

Tobio flinched, instinctively assuming a fighting stance, and reflexively drew a throwing knife, nearly attacking.

Even though he had seen many Stand users, it was the first time he had seen someone as lifeless as a corpse actually speak.

Rumble rumble rumble~

Rumble rumble rumble~

Tobio made a strange sound and fumbled around on the ground looking for a phone.

Suddenly, he spotted the cigarette butt left behind by Dawn and picked it up as if he had found treasure.

Tobio mimed answering the phone, and the next moment, Diavolo's low voice rang out.

"Tobio, the Bucciarati in front of you is now a corpse."

Tobio suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, but respectfully asked, "Boss, what should I do?"

"Listen to me first, Tobio."

Diavolo continued, "Bucciarati cannot see your appearance; he can only see the state of souls, which is why he mistook you for Trish.

Next, you will enter the coliseum with him and act according to the situation."

Tobio agreed repeatedly and hung up the phone with a serious expression.

He casually stuffed the cigarette butt into his pocket, then looked at Bucciarati and bent down to help him up.

His touch was ice-cold, even carrying a faint scent of decay.

"Bucciarati, why are you alone?"

Tobio asked in a low voice.

Bucciarati struggled to discern Tobio's words.

His hearing was almost gone now, and he could only vaguely grasp the general meaning.

"Trish... I have a small house on the outskirts of Naples."

Bucciarati's body was cold, but his words were still warm.

"When everything is over, if you have nowhere else to go, you can live there."

Tobio merely blinked at this, his expression unchanged, his gaze intently focused on the path ahead.

Bucciarati continued to murmur, as if leaving his last words, which silenced Tobio for a moment.

"We're here, Bucciarati."

Tobio supported Bucciarati, carefully surveying the dim surroundings, wary of unknown dangers.

"Stop."

A strange voice came from ahead, making both of them tense.

Tobio was worried about his identity being exposed, while Bucciarati was concerned for Dawn's safety.

"If you take another step up, our previous agreement will be void."

Polnareff's hoarse voice echoed. He looked down at the two figures and slowly spoke, "Bucciarati, who is beside you?"

Bucciarati struggled to discern, and after a long moment, he replied, "Trish? Her name is Trish. She's not part of the organization, so it's normal you don't know her."

Polnareff's gaze deepened, and to be safe, he continued to ask.

"Trish? That sounds like a woman's name."

Tobio immediately broke out in a cold sweat. He quickly took out a cigarette butt from his pocket and began to call out to the Boss in a low voice.

"This is bad, Boss. We've been found out. Do I need to act?"

Diavolo commanded in a deep voice, "Don't panic, Tobio. Listen to me, just do this..."

After listening, Tobio's eyes widened. He looked at the cigarette butt in his hand with a mixture of shock and shame.

Thinking of the consequences if the plan failed, Tobio gritted his teeth. He twisted his body slightly with his back to Polnareff and shouted in a high-pitched voice.

"What's wrong with a name that sounds like a woman's?!"

Polnareff was stunned for a moment, then slowly spoke.

"No, nothing."

Just as Tobio was about to breathe a sigh of relief, Polnareff's next sentence made him tense up again.

"Please reveal your Stand. I need to confirm."

Diavolo, hidden in the shadows, truly panicked upon hearing this. He directly took over, his eyes flashing red as he turned his head to look at the figure on the high platform.

"You... give me a very familiar feeling."

Diavolo's tone was chilling, revealing an uncontrollable killing intent.

Most of those who had investigated him in secret were quickly eliminated by him. Only that man with silver hair had given him some trouble.

It was because that man was too cautious.

He refused to use his Stand abilities even on his deathbed, which greatly frustrated Diavolo.

Diavolo had suspected he had a Stand with a death-triggered ability, but in the end, he had still managed to deal with him.

This guy hiding in the shadows, like that silver-haired man, was so cautious that Diavolo found him disgusting.

Polnareff felt this familiar killing intent, his expression turned serious, and a bad premonition arose in his heart.

"This killing intent... it feels like my heart's been ripped out... such a familiar feeling. Are you..."

Diavolo expressionlessly released Bucciarati, letting him fall, and slowly walked towards the stairs.

"What a strange fate. I didn't expect you to survive even in that situation."

Scarlet flames erupted from Diavolo's body, his pupils locked onto Polnareff.

Stand - King Crimson

Activate!

At this moment, time seemed to be erased by an unknown force, space shattered, and everyone moved along their predetermined trajectories.

Only Diavolo continued to ascend the stairs step by step, muttering to himself.

"This is a trial."

Diavolo's voice changed from youthful to steady. As he passed a load-bearing pillar, he slowly took off his shirt, his gaze fixed on Polnareff.

"I accept it. I must overcome the trials of the past."

"Growth comes from overcoming one's immature past self."

"You are no different, Jean Pierre Polnareff."