"Foolish" Choices

Abbacchio abandoned his stand-in without hesitation.

Moody Blues is like an extension of his soul, and of course, it is extremely important.

However, the enemy's Stand's close-combat suppression is almost unstoppable; even Bucciarati, the team's best close-combat fighter, cannot match it.

Staying there would only lead to their pointless deaths, so they had no choice but to use their trump card, "Sprint."

No way.

Compared to one's own one and only life, a substitute is obviously something that can be discarded.

As Anthony's furious shouts echoed from the woods, Abbacchio lost even the slightest attachment to the Moody Blues—

"I still have that stand-in," Anthony said.

This means that the reality is different from what they had feared:

Objects that disappear due to the enemy's abilities are not completely erased; they remain intact somewhere.

If that's the case, then why are they in such a hurry to defeat Anthony?

Once we can successfully deal with Diavolo and completely control the organization, it won't be too late to come back and collect our debts from Anthony.

That's what Abbacchio is thinking right now.

So the louder Anthony shouted from afar, the more ridiculous he found it:

"He's just a kid after all."

Abbacchio, in a rare display of mischievousness, turned around and shouted from afar:

"No, I don't want it anymore—"

"Goodbye!"

The shout, full of mockery, seemed to have quite a bit of power.

Even from nearly a hundred meters away, Abbacchio could hear the childish brat's furious cursing.

"Ha ha."

Abbacchio smiled and then continued running forward with Bucciarati, completely ignoring him.

They could soon escape this forest, this park, leaving that troublesome brat behind, and head to the truly important battlefield.

However, at that moment, Anthony shouted loudly from behind.

This time, however, his words were no longer the weak and laughable curses, but a naked threat with a fierce edge:

"Come back here!"

"If you leave, I'll kill him—"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a bloodcurdling scream echoed through the woods:

"Ahhh!"

"Help! Help me!"

The screams were incredibly loud, remaining clear even after passing through the dense forest.

Clearly, the owner of that voice had just suffered unimaginable pain.

Judging from the voice, the one suffering the most seemed to be...

"Is that the drug addict from earlier?"

Abbacchio was slightly taken aback, and Bucciarati, who was standing next to him, also paused for a moment.

"Hey, hey."

Abbacchio roared, his voice laced with disdain:

"You're trying to threaten us by grabbing just anyone? Are you out of your mind?"

"Kill them if you want, anyway, people like that shouldn't have been allowed to live in this world!"

"Yeah?!"

Anthony screamed hysterically:

"If you really don't care at all, why did you reply to me?"

"Ha ha ha ha."

"If I'm not mistaken, you should have stopped by now, right?"

"The intelligence already said that one of you used to be a cop who always talked about justice, and the other was a doting good-natured person who lent a helping hand on the streets of Naples. Shouldn't helping others be your instinct?"

As if he had some kind of telescopic vision, he accurately described the current state of Bucciarati and Abbacchio.

Indeed

Although the drug addict had nothing to do with them, and was even a scumbag who was wasting air, Abbacchio still instinctively stopped in his tracks after hearing the piercing cry for help.

It's as if he's still the same passionate and righteous policeman he always was.

The beautiful memories of the past suddenly flooded back uncontrollably, and compared with the cruel reality he later experienced, they seemed so ridiculous and absurd.

"That's really stupid."

Abbacchio bit his lip hard, trying to dispel the inexplicable surge of enthusiasm.

"Shut up!"

"If you're going to kill, then do it now. Goodbye!"

He coldly uttered this sentence.

Then, Abbacchio started walking again and continued forward without hesitation.

"Aaaaaah!"

Then another scream came from the woods behind them.

Amid the addict's agonizing screams, Anthony was shouting frantically:

"You bastard! Do you think I wouldn't dare to kill someone?"

"If you guys get away, the boss will be very angry. I don't want to make the boss angry!"

Anthony awakened his Stand ability before his values were fully developed, and was subsequently discovered by Diavolo, who recruited him into his Royal Guard and continued to train and brainwash him.

The boss, whom he had never met, was like a parent to him.

Anthony is like an innocent young girl deeply entrenched in PUA (Pick-Up Artist) tactics; his awe and loyalty to Diavolo are completely ingrained in his heart.

"As long as I can complete the boss's task, I'm willing to kill anyone and do anything."

"If you don't come back, I'll start with this homeless man and chop everyone in and around this park into mincemeat, one by one!"

Abbacchio's steps faltered once again.

The same applies to Bucciarati.

He looked at Abbacchio's gloomy face, his expression slightly complicated:

"Abbacchio, are we going back?"

"No."

Abbacchio shook his head decisively:

"If we can just grab any random passerby and threaten them a couple of times and expect them to obey, how are we supposed to move forward?"

"A gang, we're a gang!"

"That's the police's job, what does it have to do with us?"

He spoke these words through gritted teeth, it was unclear whether he was trying to persuade Bucciarati or himself.

But Bucciarati answered in this way:

"I want to go back."

He spoke calmly what Abbacchio found utterly foolish.

It was as if this wasn't foolishly sacrificing oneself for complete strangers, but something that had to be done, something perfectly natural.

"You"

Abbacchio stared wide-eyed at Bucciarati.

He held it in for a long time before finally managing to utter a sentence:

What's going on?

"I joined the gang so I could become a villain and give up on myself!"

It's no exaggeration to say that compared to his former police colleagues who were adept at extortion and bribery, Bucciarati, the gang leader, was as kind as a saint who had stepped out of a story.

Being with companions like Bucciarati, he almost forgot his original "motives" for joining the underworld.

"Ha ha."

Bucciarati smiled, a rare occurrence for him.

He looked at Abbacchio's shocked, helpless, and questioning gaze, but his tone remained calm:

"Abbacchio, you are my new teammate."

"We've only known each other for a few days, so you probably don't know me very well yet."

"Indeed, within the organization, those busybodies call me the Naples Goodfella. They think helping the citizens of their jurisdiction is a ridiculous thing, and caring about the lives of innocent people is even more absurd."

"In such a cruel world, what I did was indeed very 'redundant'."

"It has become my weakness, and it has caused me a lot of trouble—like Polpo yesterday, Anthony today."

"But."

"I never intended to change that."

Bucciarati's gaze was very firm:

"Even though I live in this kind of world, I still want to walk the path I believe in."

"Because I can't forgive it. If I turn a blind eye to this kind of thing, I won't be able to face myself."

"."

Abbacchio remained speechless for a long time.

He felt that his original intention to sink into the underworld had been completely distorted, but after getting to know Bucciarati deeply, another original intention that he had completely buried seemed to be quietly rekindled and sprouting again.

"All right."

Abbacchio sighed deeply, his voice filled with helplessness and regret:

"No one can stop a man from doing something stupid. Go if you want to."

"No, this is not being stupid."

Bucciarati shook his head.

He slowly took a step back in the direction he was heading, his expression immediately turning incredibly cold and stern.

"Both Polpo and Anthony got one thing wrong."

"Kindness is never weakness, much less incompetence."

"Before I decide to save someone, the first thing I always decide is how they will die."