Things Mista and Giorno Had to Talk About

"Mr. Dawn is gone!"

Mista scrambled out of the car but couldn't spot Dawn anywhere, a flicker of panic rising in him.

"Could it be that Mr. Dawn can't swim?!"

Giorno climbed out of the car too, and upon hearing that, immediately took a deep breath and dove in, yet he couldn't find Dawn no matter how hard he searched.

"Instead of worrying about others, why not think about your own fate, Mista!"

White Album stood on the frozen sea surface, glaring viciously at Mista.

"Golden Experience!"

"Muda Muda Muda Muda Muda!!!"

Giorno burst out of the sea with a flurry of punches, his voice ringing with fierce determination, and White Album was sent flying.

But as the barrage ended, Giorno looked down and saw that one of his hands had been eroded by the freezing cold, shattering into countless ice crystals.

"Mista! Get to the shore and grab the tape—I'll hold him off."

Giorno regenerated his hand with Golden Experience and shouted urgently.

"Rather than that, I'd prefer to take him out. That way we both walk away safe."

Mista said solemnly, "Giorno, can your Golden Experience still activate?"

Giorno didn't waste words; he punched the hood of the car, which transformed into vines that grew wildly.

"Using your Stand ability right in front of me—are you underestimating me that much?!"

White Album punched the sea surface, and ice crystals instantly covered the vines. In this ultra-low temperature, only some cold-resistant weeds could survive.

"That's enough!"

Mista tore off the weeds and shaped them into a skateboard, gliding along the icy path White Album had created toward the shore.

"Mista, where do you think you're going?"

Seeing this, White Album canceled the crystallization, and Mista plunged into the seawater.

White Album closed in fast. Mista fired several shots, but they were deflected by the thick ice armor, and one bullet even ricocheted and struck Mista in the chest.

"Quick, shoot the weeds on the water!"

Giorno's lower body was already frozen in ice, leaving him unable to help Mista directly, so he could only shout a warning.

Though Mista didn't know why, he immediately fired at the weeds floating on the surface. With a few shots, a weed flew up into the air.

Seeing this, Giorno deactivated Golden Experience's ability.

The weed reverted to a car part—a screw.

Mista caught on and fired at the screw repeatedly until it lodged into the ice armor on White Album's forehead.

"Useless useless useless!!!"

White Album roared, "Mista, all of you are dying here today!"

"Not so sure about that."

The final bullet fired, and the sound of ice shattering rang out as White Album flew backward and crashed into the sea.

Mista struggled to climb ashore and looked at the lion statue. If he could destroy it, he'd get what they came for—the tape the Boss had arranged.

Then he could find a place to hide, maybe escape, and meet up with Bucciarati.

Of course, maybe he wouldn't escape, and he'd die at White Album's hands, turning into a pile of ice crystals.

But... if he ran, Giorno would definitely be killed, right?

Mista didn't hesitate. He turned and jumped back into the sea, staring at White Album struggling beneath the surface.

A stream of bubbles rose from the back of White Album's neck. So that was it—the fully sealed ice armor had to have a breathing hole. He was right.

When White Album surfaced, Mista shot at a fish on the water, making White Album look down in confusion. Seizing the moment, Sex Pistols altered the bullet's trajectory, hitting the breathing hole dead-on!

Ding—

The sound of an object rebounding echoed repeatedly.

Mista froze. What was this? Why hadn't the attack landed?

Giorno's face changed. That sound was—?!

"Dodge, Mista! That's the sound of bullets bouncing back!"

White Album stared at Mista and began to taunt.

"Trying to shoot my breathing hole to kill me, Mista?"

"Ultra-low temperatures freeze everything—even the air! These invisible mirrors blocked the bullets, and now, I'm giving them back!"

"What?!"

The endlessly ricocheting bullets suddenly burst forth, catching Mista completely off guard. One pierced straight through his left chest, barely missing his heart.

Above the sky, Dawn quietly watched the battle, frowning.

"This isn't looking good, Mista."

So Dawn pressed down on the Metal Dragon's head, moving closer, ready to intervene at any moment.

Fortunately, the following events didn't stray too far from the original. Under Giorno's self-inflicted harm, the splattered blood let Mista see the reflection trajectory of the transparent ice crystals, giving him a chance to defeat his opponent.

The two fought all the way to the shore. The White Album, caught off guard, had its nape pierced by a streetlamp spike. Mista instantly turned into a berserk warrior, ignoring the Sex Pistols' pleas, raising his gun and firing wildly.

Though riddled with holes from the ricocheting bullets, Mista gritted his teeth and fired the last shot.

Thud!

The White Album's nape was pierced by the spike, a surge of blood welling up, but it froze the wound with its ability, stopping the spike from going deeper.

"Mista, you're out of bullets, aren't you?"

The White Album grinned viciously. The sound of bullets bouncing back through the air rang out incessantly, like death itself urging him on.

Bang!

A ricocheted bullet pierced Mista's head. Just as his body was about to fall, Giorno caught him.

"Golden Experience."

Giorno quietly activated his ability, and the bloody hole in Mista's forehead healed. Thanks to Golden Experience's timely rescue, Mista didn't die on the spot.

Roar!!!

The dragon in the sky let out a long howl, swooping in. Its massive jaws clamped down hard on the White Album, and the Spark Plug deep in its throat flickered as a scorching pillar of flame erupted.

Ghiaccio let out a terrified scream. The ice crystals covering his body melted, and he was instantly reduced to charcoal.

White Album, dead!

Giorno, who hadn't gotten to deliver his muda, felt a strange sense of interrupted momentum, like he was about to take off but was forced to stop. Still, he didn't dwell on it and instinctively said, "Mr. Dawn?"

Dawn rode the dragon, hovering in midair, looking down at the two. He showed no embarrassment over stealing the kill, instead tossing down a satellite communicator.

"If you change your mind, contact me anytime, Giorno. You know what I mean."

With that, the dragon let out another roar, flew into the distant clouds, and gradually faded from sight, disappearing entirely.

Next came the iconic scene. To treat Mista's injuries, Giorno and Mista began a series of suggestive movements on the reclining chairs.

"Ah~"

Mista's ecstatic moan caught the attention of the small plane, Narancia, who had come to pick them up. Narancia froze on the spot, staring in disbelief at what was happening.

Narancia shrank back a little, afraid he might be silenced. These two usually seemed so proper—how could they do something so morally depraved in broad daylight?

"Could Giorno be being forced? But Giorno doesn't seem like the kind of weak-willed type. Ah~ Maybe it's not good for me to have caught them in the act."

Narancia's mind wandered as he let the boat drift freely, planning to reveal himself only after everything was over.

Giorno and Mista had no idea that their images in Narancia's mind had undergone a complete and irreversible transformation.

The kind that could never be undone.