A few minutes earlier, the door to the small-town inn was slowly pushed open.
A vaguely familiar figure walked in, looked around first, then raised a hand and pressed the service bell on the counter.
Hearing the sound, Enya came out of a guest room on the second floor, leaning on her cane. She seemed to recognize the visitor, and a somewhat surprised expression appeared on her face.
"Joestar's group should be staying here, right?"
The visitor spoke quickly. He was tall and upright, with a cowboy hat on his head.
But strangely, he only had one arm. The other had vanished completely from the elbow down, leaving only layers of yellowed bandages. A half-burned cigarette hung from his mouth.
"Hol Horse..."
Enya slowly came down from the second floor, leaning on her broken cane. "I didn't expect you to come too."
"Yeah."
Hol Horse crouched down to greet her and slowly nodded. "I've been tracking them ever since India, trying to find the right chance to make a move. But I didn't expect you to personally make a move too, Enya..."
"I..."
Upon hearing that, an expression of immense grief appeared on Enya's wrinkled old face, and tears began streaming down uncontrollably.
"Waaaaah!"
Her emotions grew more and more intense. In the end, she covered her face and ran into a room beside the lobby, hugged a chair, and began bawling her eyes out. The sound was enough to break any listener's heart.
"W-What's wrong with you?"
Hol Horse was clearly taken aback. He chased after her and asked, "Enya... why did you suddenly start crying?"
"These are tears of gratitude."
With her back to Hol Horse, Enya covered her face and choked back sobs, nearly unable to speak. "This old woman has already become all alone, yet I