Jean Pierre Polnareff grimaced and waggled his eyebrows, but no matter how hard he tried, he found he simply could not control the Stand before him, which theoretically belonged to him.
His Stand really had gone out of control!
"I'm just saying, is there any chance your Stand evolved?"
Unable to watch any longer, Don Quixote spoke in a helpless tone.
Polnareff was suffering the pitfalls of being an old-school player. He had no idea how to use this command-based wheelchair Stand.
But after his Stand spoke several times, a string suddenly pulled taut in Polnareff's mind.
He thought he understood what was happening...
Drawing on his mental power, which had somehow returned to its peak, Polnareff considered it briefly, then tentatively tried giving an order.
"You... turn around for me?"
Don Quixote: "..."
He had originally wanted to refuse outright, but when he saw Polnareff's expectant gaze, he swallowed his reluctance, grunted, and walked in a circle around Polnareff.
"Hand me the Insect Arrow."
Narrowing his eyes, Polnareff stared hard at Don Quixote, only to discover in shock that he really did hand him the Insect Arrow.
And his form did not change in the slightest.
Most of his remaining wariness vanished on the spot.
Although he had no idea what exactly had happened to his Stand, everything seemed to be changing for the better.
It was just that this Stand felt a little unserious.
Polnareff did not have much of a problem with that. After all, more than a decade ago, he had been pretty unserious most of the time himself, hadn't he?
He cheerfully gave another order.
"Come on, shake hands, then point out which one's the radish and which one's the tissue."
Don Quixote: "..."
Then Polnareff discovered that this time, his Stand did not obey.