The Possibility of Dragon Tamer Evolution

High above in the clouds, a massive dragon coiled and swam through the air. Dawn rode on its back, rubbing the goosebumps rising on his arms.

"This is way too cold. It's like being hit by White Album nonstop."

Dawn pressed down on Metal Dragon's head, signaling it to descend. Just then, a white behemoth burst out from the clouds below.

Metal Dragon let out a low growl, looking down. The spark plug deep in its throat flickered, ready to spew a blazing pillar of fire at Dawn's command.

"It's a plane. No wonder it's so cold—we're flying a bit too high."

Dawn muttered to himself, signaling Metal Dragon to find a place to land.

Looking down at the sea below, it felt like a jolt of electricity shot through his brain. Memories of watching the show came flooding back.

"I remember, after Bucciarati's team betrays the Boss, they head to Sardinia to investigate his true identity.

At Marco Polo Airport, they ran into some really tough opponent."

Dawn seized that spark of insight, letting his imagination run wild.

"I think it was a Requiem-type Stand... named something like... Notorious Big?"

"Got it, Notorious Big. Its ability is to attack fast-moving objects—the faster the target, the faster it gets."

"I wonder how it stacks up against my Dragon Tamer... wait, Dragon Tamer?"

Dawn's eyes suddenly lit up, the cold around him completely forgotten.

Notorious Big, in the original work, had an undying body and a powerhouse stat sheet with three infinites and two A's.

As for Dragon Tamer's ability, it could turn anything into a dragon. Though it couldn't affect Stands, which were spiritual power, if he could bypass that limit, his Dragon Tamer would evolve in a certain sense.

Dragon Tamer + Notorious Big?

If he pulled it off, soloing Italy would be within reach.

The question was how to do it. Dawn rubbed his chin, signaling Metal Dragon to land, deciding to think it over carefully.

Inside the plane, cockpit.

"Hey, is that thing above us gone yet?"

"Should be. Strange, what the hell shows up as a long strip on radar?"

"Don't overthink it. Probably some military aircraft that crossed our flight path. Unless it's aliens."

"Yeah, maybe."

On the other side, Bucciarati's team arrived with Trish at the location the Boss had arranged. The mission was complete, and everyone was full of hope for the future.

"I'll take Trish to the top of the tower to meet the Boss. Giorno, you all wait here."

Bucciarati straightened his clothes, telling the team to be patient. The two entered the elevator and pressed the button.

Once inside, Trish immediately went limp, curling up in the corner of the elevator, trembling. She pressed a fist to her chest and spoke uneasily: "On this whole trip, I've been kidnapped by the mafia, attacked by assassins, and Mr. Dawn, who seemed to know the inside story, suddenly disappeared. I'm a little scared to meet a father I've never seen..."

Hearing this, Bucciarati comforted her: "He'll probably arrange for you to go abroad. Maybe even get plastic surgery so no one recognizes you, and you can live happily in a foreign land."

"Is that so?"

Trish mustered the courage to stand up, but still reached out a hand to grab Bucciarati. The two watched in silence as the elevator neared the top.

"Trish?"

Bucciarati suddenly felt the hand gripping him loosen. He turned his head, and his eyes flew wide open, pupils shaking.

He instinctively caught the severed hand as it fell. The Trish who had just been talking to him had vanished without a trace.

All that was left was a slender hand, still warm.

"Damn it!!!"

Bucciarati growled, clutching the severed hand tightly. How could there be a Stand attack in the place closest to the Boss? That left only one answer.

It was all a lie. There was no such thing as a protection mission. The Boss just wanted to finish off his own daughter!

Bucciarati, whose parents divorced when he was young and who craved family the most, felt his respect and fear for the Boss vanish in an instant.

He slowly closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were filled with resolve and murderous intent.

Originally, Bucciarati had hesitated about Giorno's vision to purge drugs and clean up the organization—after all, that meant going to war with the entire Italian mafia.

But now, there wasn't a shred of doubt left in Bucciarati's heart.

"Boss, you shouldn't have done this."

"After you die, I'll tell Trish that her father never existed."

"Sticky Fingers!"

With a punch, he opened a zipper into another dimension in the elevator shaft. Bucciarati spotted the dark figure in the shaft and casually tossed out the tracker Giorno had given him.

The tracker stuck to the Boss's clothes. Bucciarati used the zipper to wait on the first floor ahead of time, hiding behind a thick stone pillar, waiting silently.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Footsteps came down the stairs but stopped not far from the stone pillar. Though Bucciarati wasn't visible, the Boss's voice reached him as if by prophecy.

"Bucciarati, don't come out."

The Boss continued, "I've seen your death. Leave now, and nothing will happen. Otherwise, you will die."

Bucciarati didn't answer. His Stand, Sticky Fingers, struck without warning, a fist aimed at the Boss.

Fearing his face might be exposed, Diavolo chose to abandon Trish for the moment and hid in the darkness.

Having successfully driven the Boss back, Bucciarati immediately scooped up Trish and moved out of the Boss's potential attack range.

"Why betray me? Tell me your reason."

Diavolo's low voice came from the dark, tinged with a hint of inquiry.

Bucciarati didn't reply. Instead, he pulled out a communicator to contact Giorno outside.

"I'm disappointed in you, Bucciarati."

In a daze, Bucciarati suddenly felt something was wrong. Before he could press the dial button, the call was already showing as connected.

Before he could think, Bucciarati felt a chill in his abdomen. Looking down, he saw a thick red arm piercing through his stomach from behind.

Then came a tidal wave of searing pain.

Pfft.

Bucciarati spat out a mouthful of blood. The Boss's voice drifted into his ears like a ghost: "This is my ability—King Crimson. The power to delete the process and keep only the result."

Bucciarati swallowed the blood in his mouth. His strong will drove him to counterattack, driving an elbow into the Boss's face.

Another daze, and the attack missed. Bucciarati found himself controlling his Stand to punch wildly at empty air.

In the deleted time, everyone moved along their original trajectories. The only exception was the Boss.

The demonic figure appeared behind Bucciarati again, muttering under his breath, "No one threatens my eternal throne."

A chop of the hand came down. Bucciarati's upper body was ravaged, nearly split in two from shoulder to waist. He seemed to lose all strength and crashed to the ground.

The light in Bucciarati's eyes slowly faded. His consciousness blurred, and the world before him sank into darkness.

"Golden Experience!"

Giorno punched through the iron door. Sensing the arrival of the team members, Diavolo vanished in a flash.

Three minutes earlier.

Airport, restaurant.

Dawn ended his call with Polnareff, got up to go to the restroom, and took out a cigarette to light it.

Suddenly, a large pile of ash fell to the floor. Dawn's eyes widened slightly. The cigarette between his fingers had already burned more than halfway.

Smoke was also billowing from the ceiling above.

"Time was deleted."

Dawn slowly uttered a few words, understanding what had happened. He immediately pulled out his phone and proactively called Giorno.

"Giorno, it's me..."

Seeing Bucciarati collapsed on the ground, Giorno immediately began treating him.

"Dammit, I was still too late!"

Giorno slammed his fist against the floor in frustration, creating a web of cracks like a spider's net.

After receiving Dawn's warning, Giorno had immediately tried to go in and rescue Bucciarati.

But the team members' doubts had delayed him for a while. In his anxiety, he'd even tripped and fallen.

Just a few seconds too late—and he'd missed the optimal window for rescue.

"Giorno, take Trish and get out of here now."

Giorno suddenly heard Bucciarati's voice.

Vaguely, he saw a translucent figure gradually overlap with Bucciarati's body. Then the dead Bucciarati opened his eyes once more.

But Bucciarati's heart did not beat again.

The immense life force granted by Golden Experience kept pulling at the departed soul, granting it the ability to walk the world for a brief time.

Just as Rolling Stone had prophesied, Bucciarati had still died on this journey.