Playing with Fire

The Colosseum, now.

"Hello"

Upon hearing Giorno turn around and say, "I will protect you," Mista finally realized:

"Damn that perm hairstyle, stop trying to look cool!"

"If you try to stop the enemy this way, you'll die even if you win!"

He roared with such excitement in his heart.

Although we had only known each other for two short days, we had gone through countless life-and-death situations together.

This kind of guy, whom he could entrust his life to, was a true friend he never encountered during his years as a petty thug, drifting aimlessly through life.

Mista struggled desperately to climb back, trying to stop the suicidal act.

But his broken body was no longer able to muster any strength, and he could only watch helplessly as the spreading vines pushed him further and further away with trembling eyes.

Giorno didn't turn around, nor did he stop.

He knew where he was.

Like Rock Rose—

The idea of voluntarily sacrificing oneself for one's offspring is merely a literary embellishment; from a purely pragmatic perspective:

Even if it doesn't spontaneously combust, it will most likely be roasted to death by the scorching summer sun. So it might as well burn itself to death cleanly and neatly, and take away the weeds that are competing with it for living space before it dies.

Giorno is in a similar situation now.

Fighting means certain death, not fighting also means certain death, so why not take a chance and see if we can take someone down with us?

With this determination, he exerted all his strength to manipulate the Gold Experience to change the terrain:

"Wood big wood big wood big wood big!"

Grass and shrubs continued to grow and spread around Giorno.

In the dim light, the shadowy branches and leaves intertwined, and a faint fragrance spread freely.

This ancient arena, weathered by time, has now transformed into a vibrant and beautiful garden amidst the dazzling, ceaseless golden shadows of fists.

Giorno stood within this plant fortress woven of flowers and green leaves, his gaze fixed firmly on the invading enemy.

Similarly, the low wall formed by plants completely blocked Diavolo's path, trapping him in a cramped corner of the amphitheater.

"If you want to go there, kill me first!"

Giorno said with a cold expression.

"Heh, don't get it wrong."

"Now is not the time for you to protect others."

Gazing at the low green wall that seemed to "seal" him out, Diavolo's anger intensified.

His goal now goes beyond just Mista.

Giorno's hatred for him was no less than that.

Seeing his prey standing defiantly in front of him, he felt as disgusted as seeing a cockroach with a slipper on its head, arrogantly defiant.

And so, amidst that overwhelming killing intent and boundless rage...

Diavolo stopped in his tracks.

Yes, he uttered the harshest words in the most ruthless voice, but his feet didn't budge an inch.

Anger did not cloud his judgment. Even in his heightened emotions, Diavolo was not foolish enough to recklessly charge into the enemy's defensive line.

He stood quietly at a distance, waiting and observing.

The air suddenly fell into an eerie silence.

There was no sound of speaking or footsteps, only the slightly heavy breathing of the few people present.

And it was quite obvious that Giorno's breathing became significantly heavier among these breathing sounds:

"Diavolo is not moving."

"He must be observing me, observing these plants."

This is an extremely worrying situation.

Giorno's greatest wish was for Diavolo to be blinded by rage and recklessly rush into the flower bushes to attack him.

In that case, he would accidentally get Rock Rose essential oil all over himself during his journey.

His steps as he walked through the vegetation must have stirred up the carpet of grass piled on the ground.

The smoldering embers inside the grass carpet will come into contact with the abundant oxygen from the outside and instantly ignite into a visible flame, setting this large area of plants covered with volatile and flammable essential oils ablaze.

By then, Diavolo, covered in oil and engulfed in flames, would likely be burned to death, or at least suffer severe burns.

However, an ideal state is ultimately just an ideal state.

Truly returning to reality

Seeing Diavolo's face twitching with anger, he still didn't rashly launch an attack.

He's like an ancient tortoise; the moment he senses danger, he instinctively retreats into his shell.

No matter how angry you are.

"What a troublesome guy."

Giorno's expression grew increasingly somber:

"With such a cautious personality and such a powerful Stand, I'm afraid I'll never be able to take the initiative against this man with just my Gold Experience ability."

"Therefore, the key to this victory or defeat lies in Diavolo's own choice next."

While Diavolo paused to observe, Giorno anxiously awaited Diavolo's assessment.

"If he decides to avoid contact with these plants altogether and instead uses a double to climb back to the second floor and take a detour to bypass the defenses formed by these plants, then I have no way to stop his killing."

"But if he doesn't see anything wrong, or even if he does, he's confident he can use the Time Erasure to break through the defense head-on, then I might still have a sliver of a chance."

Ultimately, it all comes down to whether Diavolo dares to kill Giorno.

If he's truly so cowardly that he swallows back all the harsh words he just uttered and doesn't dare approach Giorno, who is protected by these plants, then Giorno will be helpless.

"So."

An unprecedented sense of tension washed over me.

This seemingly perfect, godlike boy felt a lingering sense of powerlessness that he hadn't experienced in a long time.

Human effort has been exhausted; now we can only leave the rest to fate.

"Diavolo."

What would you choose?

Time passed in a deathly silence, several incredibly long seconds.

Diavolo finally made his choice—

He did not choose to retreat or climb the stairs to find a way out, but instead slowly took a step forward.

Step by step, Diavolo walked straight up to him.

He walked up to the low, green wall with its lush foliage.

If he took another step forward, he and his double would touch the Rock Rose bushes whose leaves were covered with plant essential oils.

Go a little deeper, and his feet will stir the thick carpet of grass inside, where embers are smoldering.

"Bring it on."

"Come in and kill me!"

Giorno suppressed his inner unease and waited silently.

However.

Just then, in Giorno's gaze, which held an undercurrent of intense tension...

Diavolo stopped again.

"This?" Giorno's heart sank.

Diavolo, however, curled his already distorted lips in anger and gave a sinister laugh:

"Hehe."

"At first I was wondering if there was some kind of deadly poison on these plants that humans shouldn't touch, but seeing you sitting in this flowerbed for several seconds without showing any unusual symptoms."

In the end, I still didn't expect it.

"You didn't use poison, but fire."

"What?!"

A look of surprise flashed in Giorno's eyes:

How could Diavolo know that he was going to use fire?

With the lighting so dim, the essential oil covering the Rock Rose branches and leaves is completely invisible to the naked eye.

How could you possibly tell what kind of plant it was just by smelling it?

However, Diavolo, as if he could foresee the future, inexplicably saw through his true intentions.

Could it be that his King Crimson actually has another ability besides Time Erasure?

This is a very important issue.

But Giorno no longer had time to think about it.

The consequences of the plan being exposed are fatal, just like now:

"That's a really creative tactic."

"Once the oil gets on your body and catches fire, you can't get rid of it even if you turn on the Time Erasure."

"But, unfortunately."

"I saw that horrific scene clearly before it happened."

The King Crimson slowly stepped forward amidst Diavolo's mocking voice.

"This kind of 'future' that is unfavorable to me must be deleted."

The King Crimson has started Time Erasure.

During those few seconds of waiting, its ability to rest from overload had been restored.

Time Erasure, the King Crimson bent down.

It slashed a hand chop at the thick pile of grass under the bushes in front of it from afar.

The chop didn't damage anything; it just created a small whirlwind.

The whirlwind blew straight toward the haystack, blowing away the dry grass on its surface to reveal a patch of smoldering, glowing embers beneath.

Boom!

Flames shot into the sky.

The King Crimson swiftly retreated, and the Time Erasure ended.

Giorno didn't even have time to react.

When he realized something was wrong, all he saw was a sea of fire.

"Plants that secrete oil, haystacks that spontaneously combust."

"Giorno Giovanna, you've certainly prepared a fine coffin for yourself."

Diavolo stood unharmed outside the suddenly ignited fire.

In his cold, piercing gaze, the flames devoured everything.