Formaggio

Just a minute ago, Fugo and Narancia were still locked in a life-or-death struggle with Ghiaccio in the bar.

Meanwhile, on another street near the station, Mista was hurrying back with a tub of ice cream in her arms.

He also shoulders the mission of finding ice and returning to Li Qing's aid.

Mista ran alone for almost a kilometer outside the station. Although she couldn't find any ice, she managed to find a dessert shop selling ice cream on the roadside.

Ice cream also has the effect of lowering body temperature, which is exactly the lifeline they desperately need right now.

Time was of the essence and there was no time to waste. In the past few days, Mista had gradually become accustomed to that kind of life, which was free and unrestrained by worldly constraints.

So, after seeing the ice cream in the shop window, he didn't say a word and just barged into the dessert shop. Then, to the astonishment of the staff, he suddenly lifted the counter, picked up a tub of ice cream, and disappeared down the street.

Perhaps Mista's grabbing was too forceful, because no one stopped him when he was carrying the ice cream.

He was happy to save himself the trouble; the entire moving process was completed smoothly in just a few seconds without any words or conflicts.

Soon, Mista, carrying the tub of ice cream, hurriedly ran halfway down the street.

The ice cream in the bucket emitted a sweet, chilly vapor, which, while making him feel cold, finally brought him some peace of mind.

"Almost there. There's still more than half a kilometer to go."

"I can go back with the ice cream right away and let everyone enter the station to rescue Li Qing."

With such eagerness in his heart, Mista's pace quickened slightly.

Just then, he heard a series of hurried footsteps behind him.

This was followed by a shout filled with anger and intense emotion:

"Stop!"

"You ice cream thief, stop right there!"

As they were talking, a young man chased after them in a fit of rage.

"Hmm? Are you an employee of that dessert shop?"

"Ugh, this is such a hassle."

Mista frowned deeply, but her running speed did not slow down at all.

His top priority now was getting back to the train station; he didn't have time to deal with the dessert shop employee who had caught up with him at some point.

So instead of stopping to confront the owner, Mista ran faster and faster with the lost item in his arms, just like a real thief.

"You bastard! You filthy rat from the sewers!"

"Don't even think about taking the ice cream away!"

The man chasing her did not back down as Mista had hoped.

He even accelerated his pursuit amidst the angry roars, quickly closing in on Mista's back.

Hearing the increasingly clear and approaching footsteps behind him, Mista could no longer run away in peace:

"It's just a tub of ice cream, is it really necessary to work so hard?"

"I've never encountered someone so stubborn before."

"Oh right, I was in such a hurry to get the ice cream that I forgot to go through the proper procedures."

Mista suddenly realized that he had indeed skipped some crucial steps when borrowing the supplies, failing to use reasonable communication methods to appease the owner's emotions.

Thinking of this, he knew it would waste some time, but to avoid unnecessary trouble, he stopped as the pursuer wished.

"I advise you not to pursue her."

"It's a matter of life and death, I really need this ice cream urgently."

Brandishing the revolver he'd forgotten to take out in the store, Mista earnestly offered his advice.

After seeing such a convincing approach, most people would no longer bother arguing over a tub of ice cream.

But to Mista's surprise, he wasn't dealing with an ordinary person this time, but a simpleton:

"A gun? Who are you trying to scare!"

"Go ahead and kill me if you dare—go ahead and kill me, come on!"

The man, cursing and swearing, walked towards Mista's gun barrel.

His face was full of recklessness and stubbornness, and his voice was filled with anger. He really looked like a righteous citizen who refused to compromise with evil forces.

However, in stark contrast to his demeanor, he sported a dark blue buzz cut that resembled that of a convict, and wore jet-black trousers and a bright red short jacket, a very fashionable and eye-catching color scheme.

In addition, the red shirt covered in studs was wide open on the chilly early spring morning, revealing a very trendy striped, openwork vest underneath.

The fabric was cheap; it offered no warmth and did nothing to hide his eight-pack abs.

Just this outfit.

You could tell he was an old Stand User the moment he appeared.

Unfortunately, like other Stand User in this world, Mista has never had the ability to identify others by their clothing.

So when the man with the buzz cut approached aggressively, Mista still only regarded him as a dessert shop employee who had chased him all the way here in order to retrieve his lost item.

"Hey, hey, don't come any closer!"

Mista brandished the gun in his hand, trying to look menacing and scare people away. "It's just a tub of ice cream, do you want to lose your life for that?!"

"Pah!" The man with the buzz cut was a very good actor.

He spat fiercely at Mista, then struck that hot-headed pose once again:

"Kid, you haven't even grown your hair yet and you're already trying to rob people with a gun?"

"Do you dare to shoot? Or do you even know how to shoot?"

I doubt your gun is even loaded!

The man with the buzz cut approached Mista step by step.

As he walked forward, he continued to Mista around in a self-righteous tone, as if he were the rightful owner of the lost property:

"Don't scare people."

"There's absolutely no way I'm letting you take this tub of ice cream with you!"

Mista was having a bit of a headache.

He didn't have any money on him, and threatening people with a gun wouldn't work. Of course, it was absolutely impossible to solve the problem by actually shooting someone.

"I'll give the money back to you, just stop bothering me!"

Mista could only try to brush him off with words while moving backward.

However, seeing him make a move to run away, the man with the buzz cut chased even closer and closer:

"Give it back? Do you think I'm a fool?"

"Stop right there! Stop right there!"

Using his identity as an angry victim as cover, the crew-cut man drew closer and closer to Mista.

6 meters, 5 meters, 4 meters, 3 meters.

"Don't come any closer!"

Mista shouted, his finger instinctively tightening on the trigger:

"If you come any closer, I'll shoot, really."

He finally sensed that something was wrong.

Because 2 meters is the attack range of most melee-type Stands.

Although the opponent's acting was flawless and without any flaws, as an ADC with long range but fragile body, Mista instinctively did not want a stranger to get close to him.

However, facing the dark muzzle of the gun, the crew-cut man suddenly revealed a cold smile:

"Oh, so they're finally getting serious?"

"It's too late!"

At that moment, he completely tore off the disguise of an ordinary citizen:

"Seriously, it's incredibly naive to worry about the lives of ordinary people at such a critical moment!"

"If you had been smarter and had just killed all the strangers who tried to approach you, I wouldn't have had the chance to do this to you."

The man with the buzz cut spoke with a hint of mockery and resentment.

The faint hint of resentment in his tone seemed to say:

The person who could defeat that invincible boss was indeed just as described in the intelligence, except that he was a guy with a woman's soft heart.

If they had known that these kids with mediocre Stand abilities and such naive personalities could kill the boss, their Assassination Team should have mustered the courage to rebel sooner.

Fortunately, there is still a chance to make up for their previous excessive caution:

"Little Feet!"

A small, thin humanoid stand-in with long, pointed nails, looking like a skinny monkey, suddenly appeared in front of Mista.

"They really are the enemy?!"

Mista instinctively wanted to fire a shot in response.

But the small, humanoid stand-in was extremely agile.

It first raised its hand and punched over the ice cream tub that Mista was tightly holding, and then used its sharp, long fingernails to instantly cut Mista's palm.

Mista, in pain, released his grip, and the ice cream bucket flew out of his hand and into the air from the force of the punch.

Blood spurted from the wound on his hand, while the ice cream that had been thrown into the air poured forward.

The man with the buzz cut was drenched in ice cream, and the half-empty ice cream tub crashed to the ground and rolled several meters away.

"Ha ha."

"I told you, I absolutely won't let you take this tub of ice cream."

The man with the buzz cut licked the ice cream stains from the corner of his mouth, his smile growing increasingly mocking.

"Damn it."

Mista's face was extremely gloomy.

His gaze suddenly turned cold as he looked at the spilled ice cream on the floor.

"Sex Pistols!"

With a murderous intent, Mista pulled the trigger instantly.

Bullets whistled out.

However, in that brief moment...

To Mista's astonishment, the enemy in front of him had vanished.