Sex Pistols

High above the ground, Cloud Dragon darted through the sky like an airplane. The biting wind whipped against them, making their teeth chatter.

Dio and the other vampires had wrapped themselves in cloaks. Beneath them, they wore tight-fitting combat suits resistant to ultraviolet rays, designed to keep them from dying in sunlight.

"We're almost there. The target is about ten kilometers ahead."

Joestar gazed into the distance and made out a sprawling collection of low buildings.

"Purple Hermit never misses."

Tiny figures moved through the buildings like ants. They were likely the people kept in captivity to provide the vampires with fresh blood.

"Everyone, hold on tight. I'll find a secluded place to land."

Dawn steered Cloud Dragon down and let the group off, then ordered it back into the sky.

After a quick disguise, the group set off for the captive humans' settlement.

In the captive humans' settlement, Mista wore a cloak to hide his face as he cautiously made his way through the breeding grounds.

The squalor before him stirred old memories. There had been a time when he hadn't been alone—when he'd had companions he could trust.

Ever since he was born, he'd lived in misery, until he met Bucciarati and joined the Punisher Squad.

The Punisher Squad had been formed by Bucciarati. He gathered trustworthy people from the breeding grounds and used the Insect Arrow to assemble a fighting squad of Stand Users.

Bucciarati's parents had died to the vampires' insatiable thirst for blood, leaving him to hate vampires from an early age.

By chance, Bucciarati cut his finger while scavenging through some ruins and awakened his Stand, Sticky Fingers.

Sticky Fingers' power made Bucciarati realize that only the power of Stands could stand against vampires.

Bucciarati found the object that had cut him. It was a fragment of an arrow, with a damaged scarab beetle clutching its blade. It glinted with dazzling gold in the sunlight.

From then on, Bucciarati secretly formed the Punisher Squad, recruiting trustworthy allies to carry out assassinations against the vampires.

Unfortunately, the tide of events could not be turned.

"Ah!!!"

A sharp scream snapped Mista out of his reverie. He instinctively tugged at his hood and cautiously looked toward the sound.

The door of a dimly lit house stood wide open. A well-dressed vampire sat in a chair, a distinct handprint on his face, glaring irritably at the girl outside.

The girl was filthy and disheveled. Her pink hair was caked with dirt, making her features impossible to discern. Only her eyes were unmistakably bright.

She seemed to notice Mista watching her and turned to look at him.

Mista lowered his head and tugged at his hood.

Vampires were wary of sunlight. The one inside fixed the woman with a sullen glare and said, "Did I say you could leave? Get back here!"

The girl covered the wound on her neck. Blood trickled from the punctures left by teeth. Fear flashed in her eyes, but she didn't dare defy him again. She slowly walked back toward the vampire.

Mista drew a deep breath. Beneath his cloak, his hand rubbed against his gun, the thick calluses on his palm reassuring him.

No. I can't get involved. My mission is to find Trish—or her corpse. This kind of thing happens every day...

Conflict flickered in Mista's eyes.

"Bang!"

A tremendous crash drew Mista's gaze back. The vampire flew out with a scream, smashing through the wooden door before landing in the sunlight.

"AAAAAAHHH!!!"

The vampire's body melted away, turning to dust in an instant. Not a trace remained, as though he had never existed.

The girl walked out of the house. The captive humans nearby scattered in every direction, clearing the area in a flash.

"Mista, when did you get so cowardly?"

The girl—no, Trish—looked at Mista with bright eyes that sparkled with amusement.

"Trish."

Mista stared at the girl in shock. Trish was still alive. How had she managed that?

With the Punisher Squad all but wiped out, Mista had been forced to hide and use the Insect Arrow again. Only then had he managed to deal with the pursuers and escape with his life.

How had Trish come through unscathed?

"Surprised? Don't forget, my father is the vampire leader here. I used that to fool the pursuers."

As Trish mentioned her father, her teeth quickly clenched.

"Diavolo, traitor to humanity! I'll kill him with my own hands!"

"Who are you going to kill?"

Dawn stepped out from behind a tarpaulin, curiously eyeing the girl.

"You want to kill him?"

King Crimson appeared in midair, chin raised as he stared arrogantly at Trish and Mista.

Diavolo, in Dawn's mind, was just as dumbfounded. He was looking at his own daughter. This strange, almost-familiar bond of blood was truly bewildering.

Trish and Mista tensed, ready for a fight. Mista moved like lightning, drawing his hand cannon and aiming it at Dawn's head.

"Who are you?!"

"King Crimson? Trish, watch out!"

Mista was about to fire, but Diavolo had anticipated it and entered the erased-time state.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

He fired three shots in quick succession. The high-explosive bullets passed through Dawn's figure and struck the wall, erupting in violent explosions.

When the smoke cleared, three enormous craters gaped in the wall.

Mista switched the gun to his other hand. His hand, shaking from the recoil, quickly reloaded the bullets. He raised the weapon and prepared to fire again.

"The World!"

Dio appeared like a phantom. In the frozen world, he walked over to Mista and roughly snatched away the hand cannon.

"Time, resume!"

Dio stood behind Dawn, one hand against Dawn's chest and the other raised, fingers spread over his face in a strange pose.

"My gun... When did he...?"

Mista's eyes darkened. He hadn't even noticed the hand cannon disappear. His enemy's Stand was unbelievably powerful.

Next time, would his head disappear too?

"That guy... He seems to be a vampire, too."

Remembering that Diavolo might also be lurking in the shadows, Mista's mood swung like a roller coaster.

It looked like he had no choice but to use that...

Trish stood in front of Mista, taking a fighting stance with a determined expression.

Unlike the Trish of the main world, this Trish had an exceptionally strong will to fight, far beyond that of an ordinary person.

"Mista, get out of here. Take the Punishers' hopes with you."

With that, Trish charged at Dawn without hesitation, ready to die.

"Trish, if only I'd discovered the secret of the Insect Arrow sooner, none of them would have died..."

Mista reached for his neck and pulled out the Insect Arrow necklace, his eyes turning fierce.

"You filthy vampires! Get a taste of true power!!!"

Mista raised the Insect Arrow necklace high and drove it into his chest. A dazzling white light burst forth at once.

Dawn's eyelid twitched. He had a bad feeling about this.

"So it really was... a fragment of the Insect Arrow?"

When the light faded, the scarab's mark appeared on Mista's forehead, and his Stand had undergone a complete transformation.

Sex Pistols—Requiem.

"After my squadmates died, I overcame my mental block about the number four and grew stronger."

"The Insect Arrow... recognized me."

Sex Pistols hovered in midair, radiating a ferocious presence. It had become a muscular giant, its eyes filled with savagery.

Mista no longer seemed the least bit tense. He raised his hand and made the gesture of gripping a gun.

"You'll bear the consequences of my actions and perish while searching for me."

After saying this, Mista lifted his hand as if completing a ritual and pointed it at his own temple.

"Until next time."