Notorious Big

Diavolo watched Bucciarati's team gather from the shadows. Choosing to avoid them for now, he turned and left.

Bucciarati had betrayed the organization. There would be nowhere left for him in all of Italy, and his own escort squad would take care of him.

Beside the tower, on the river, Bucciarati laid the unconscious Trish in a boat and turned to face everyone on the bank.

He spoke solemnly. "I've betrayed the Boss. None of you have anything to do with this, so leave now."

"If you stay with me, you could be attacked at any moment."

"Bucciarati, what are you talking about?!"

Everyone stared at Bucciarati in shock. Betraying the Boss meant betraying the organization—it was no different from committing suicide.

Giorno pressed his lips together, but before he could speak, Abbacchio of Moody Blues rushed over and grabbed him by the collar.

Abbacchio swore at him, his voice full of anger and a trace of fear he couldn't hide.

"Giorno, you bastard! Did you take a call just now? What the hell are you hiding from us?! It had to be you barging in there that made Bucciarati betray the Boss!!!"

Giorno leaned back slightly and turned his head away, avoiding Abbacchio's gaze.

Only he, Bucciarati, and Mista knew that Dawn wasn't dead.

"No, this has nothing to do with Giorno."

Bucciarati spoke up. After making sure Trish hadn't woken, he explained to everyone why he had betrayed the Boss.

Cold sweat ran down Mista's forehead. "Bucciarati, are you serious?"

After hearing him out, Fugo couldn't help taking a step back, an incredulous look on his face.

"That's your reason?! But hasn't the organization always been dealing drugs and carrying out assassinations? Didn't you know? Aren't we part of the organization's Assassination Squad, too?!"

As everyone continued arguing, Bucciarati swayed and nearly fell to his knees.

Giorno caught him in time. Suddenly, he seemed to notice something, and a flicker of surprise crossed his eyes.

When Bucciarati fell, a nail had pierced the edge of his palm, yet he hadn't reacted at all, and the wound hadn't bled.

Giorno parted his lips, but no words came out. Thinking back to what had happened earlier, he began to suspect something.

In the end, all the team members except the levelheaded Fugo decided to keep following Bucciarati.

Watching the others leave by boat, Fugo was tormented, drenched in sweat from head to toe.

"You idiots. You're really going to get yourselves killed..."

Marco Polo Airport, cockpit.

Dawn sat alone in the cockpit, tapping his fingers against the display again and again, his mind uneasy.

He had just ended his call with Giorno and learned that everyone had chosen to betray the Boss and was preparing to take their next step.

To avoid the organization's surveillance, Giorno would throw away all his electronic devices, so this had been their last call.

Dawn hadn't wasted time on small talk or even asked where they were. He had told Giorno about the two Stand Users they might encounter next, then destroyed his phone.

With his inexplicable restlessness, Dawn could only stroke the Metal Dragon coiled beside him. Its cool touch eased his anxiety a little.

In the JOJO World, fate was said to reign above all. Everyone's birth and death, and the ending awaiting them, had long been written in secret.

Dawn had joined Bucciarati's team to see if he could change the fates of its members, but he hadn't expected them to part ways because of an accident after all.

He had only been gone a short while, and he had even called Giorno to warn him, yet Bucciarati had still met with disaster.

Had fate begun to take notice of Dawn, an outsider? What kind of ending had it arranged for him?

"I'm still not strong enough. Could a golden or crimson ability break free from fate? If not, there's still one choice left—the Insect Arrow."

Perhaps evolving [Stand: Beyond Imagination] into [Stand: Beyond Imagination: Requiem] could help Dawn sever fate's invisible threads.

Dawn began smoking one cigarette after another, quietly waiting for Bucciarati's team to arrive.

It was nearly noon when several gunshots suddenly rang out from outside. Dawn flicked away the ash and stood up.

Through the observation window, he saw Bucciarati's team taking down a man.

Dawn opened the cabin door and smiled at the wary, uncertain group. "We meet again, everyone."

Abbacchio took a step back, instinctively glanced at Mista, then quickly turned his guarded gaze back to Dawn.

"So you really are still alive. Mista's strong, but it's unlikely he could kill you, so... you probably aren't our enemy."

Dawn glanced unobtrusively at the dead man lying on the ground. Was this the real body of the infamous Notorious Big?

He didn't answer Abbacchio's question, but beckoned them over. "Come aboard. We'll talk inside."

With that, he turned and left.

The group looked to Bucciarati, who explained, "Mr. Dawn is powerful. We were escorting Trish at the time, so I didn't have Mista attack him."

Mista reloaded his gun and turned his head aside, touching his cheek with a finger.

"If we'd actually attacked Mr. Dawn, Giorno and I would most likely be dead."

"Hey, Giorno! Stop examining the body and get on the plane!"

Seeing Mista change the subject, Abbacchio sighed and didn't press the issue.

In the cockpit, Abbacchio summoned Moody Blues and replayed the pilot's past, successfully getting the plane airborne.

With a tremendous roar, the huge white plane soon soared into the sky, heading toward Sardinia.

Inside the cabin, Dawn was talking with Giorno.

"Mr. Dawn, forgive me for asking, but is that your Stand ability?"

Giorno pointed at the Metal Dragon flying beside Dawn. In its smaller form, it looked delicate and rather cute, less menacing than before.

"Yes. My Stand is called Dragon Tamer. It can create Chinese dragons, but if one dies or is destroyed, I have to make it again."

Dawn gave an explanation that was one-tenth lie and nine-tenths truth. He glanced at Giorno's wrist; there was nothing unusual beneath his sleeve.

Giorno nodded. He still had some questions, but didn't ask anything further.

Suddenly, Giorno's ears twitched. He seemed to hear something and looked toward the refrigerator.

"I think I heard something strange. Mr. Dawn, could you come with me and take a look?"

"Of course."

Dawn followed Giorno to the refrigerator. The Metal Dragon hovered beside them, its jaws open and ready to attack.

Giorno slowly opened the refrigerator. Cold air spilled out, revealing several bloodied fingers.

Hearing the commotion, Mista ran over to take a look. He couldn't help tensing up. "Aren't those the fingers of the guy I took out at the airport? How did they get in here?!"

"Let's find out."

Dawn unplugged the refrigerator. At a glance from him, the Metal Dragon immediately breathed fire, burning the fingers along with the refrigerator.

Bucciarati hurried over when he heard the commotion. Seeing that Dawn had already dealt with the problem, he summoned Sticky Fingers and prepared to toss out the remains of the refrigerator.

"Everyone, hold on tight. Don't get sucked out by the wind."

Bucciarati warned them, like a mother hen looking after her chicks.

After the refrigerator incident was resolved, Giorno no longer felt like talking and returned to his seat alone to rest.

He glanced out the window and suddenly noticed that, at some point, all kinds of anguished words had been written beside the observation window.

Giorno read the words, a sense of unease lingering in his heart.

Help! Please save me!

I miss the pizza back home in Naples...

A huge red monster

That man was burned away like a piece of scrap paper...

Dying full of hatred

A power that could only be activated by death

Things we couldn't do while alive

The corpse ate us!