Little Feet

Mista saw nothing but emptiness.

The buzz-cut man who was standing in front of me a second ago disappeared into the whistling sound of bullets leaving the barrel the next second.

The No.3 and No.5 pistols from the Sex Pistols shot out on the bullet that suddenly lost its target, first circling around in mid-air like headless flies, and then flying back with a bewildered look on their faces.

"Mista, the enemy has disappeared!"

"Like a ghost."

The timid No. 5 reported this in such a panicked manner to Mista.

"Fool!"

No. 3 harshly reprimanded his companion who was lost in thought:

"What ghost? This is clearly the enemy's Stand ability!"

"That short-haired guy vanished from our sight in an instant; his Stand ability might just be teleportation!"

"Teleportation?"

Mista frowned slightly.

Although the enemy's sneak attack had only slightly cut his palm, the strange way the enemy disappeared into thin air still made him instinctively sense the danger.

Hearing No. 3's deduction, he couldn't help but fall into deep thought:

"Is the enemy's ability really teleportation?"

"If they didn't have the convenient ability to teleport, they could have simply moved right in front of them instead of going through all the trouble of disguising themselves as ordinary citizens."

"So, what exactly is the enemy's Stand ability? Why can it disappear from our sight in an instant?"

With so few clues, Mista was unable to deduce any conclusions.

He could only grip his pistol tightly, cautiously guarding against the next wave of attacks that could come at any moment.

However, what was unsettling was that the enemy had remained silent since disappearing, seemingly with no intention of reappearing or continuing the attack.

"Why didn't you continue the attack?"

"Was the enemy's only objective in attacking just to overturn that tub of ice cream?"

"Or has the enemy's attack actually ended, and he has secretly done something to me?"

Mista had a vague sense that something was wrong.

He couldn't help but lower his head, looking at the only mark the enemy had left on him—the cut on his palm.

The injury wasn't serious; it was just a shallow cut in the flesh made by the skinny stand-in's finger, and there wasn't much blood.

"The injury isn't serious, and it doesn't seem to be poisonous."

"What exactly does the enemy want?"

Mista was puzzled, but his self-talk suddenly stopped.

Because he finally discovered what the enemy had done to him, and what had truly happened to him—

He shrank.

He shrank a size, looking like a Russian nesting doll with one layer of its outer shell removed.

The clothes on his body, the gun in his hand, and even the six stand-ins surrounding him all shrunk proportionally as Mista's body shrank.

He couldn't detect any changes just by looking at himself, but when he casually compared his palm to the ice cream bucket that had fallen to the ground, he immediately noticed the problem.

Mista then turned to look at the cars parked on the side of the road:

He used to be 1.79 meters tall, but now, even when he stood up straight, his head was only level with the roof of a car that was about 1.4 meters tall.

"I am getting smaller, and this shrinking process is still ongoing!"

A look of terror flashed across Mista's face instinctively.

The feeling of watching your reflection shrink little by little in the car window is truly eerie and sends chills down your spine.

His body has now shrunk to the size of an underdeveloped teenager, and is visibly shrinking towards the size of an elementary school child.

Mista had no doubt that if this state continued, he might become an "ant" that could be manipulated at will because of this bizarre Stand attack.

If he continues to stand still, he will only be waiting to die; he must take action to fight back as soon as possible.

So, Mista began to think urgently in a tense atmosphere:

"Shrinkage, the enemy can shrink objects, that is to say..."

"That guy didn't disappear or teleport; he shrunk down and hid!"

At that moment, Mista finally understood the secret behind the enemy's sudden disappearance.

But knowing this secret now seems to have little significance.

Mista looked around carefully, scanning back and forth several times, but found no trace of the enemy.

The ground was empty except for a puddle of spilled ice cream, a few inconspicuous pebbles, and seven or eight tiny ants crawling out of the cracks in the ground.

"Oh no. I have no senses at all."

"Even if I know the enemy has shrunk and hidden, there's no way I can find his true form anytime soon!"

Time was of the essence, Mista's body was shrinking every second.

It wasn't just him who shrank, but also the gun in his hand and the bullets in it.

He knew very well that if he continued to shrink like this, his only means of attack, the revolver, would soon lose its power due to its small size.

He simply doesn't have time to waste right now, and he has absolutely no ability to rely on his naked eye to search for clues one by one.

"Since that's the case, I have no choice."

Unable to track him down, unable to retaliate, Mista was left with only one path:

"Run!"

Mista turned around abruptly.

He gritted his teeth and took a few big steps.

As Mista turned to flee in desperation, the crew-cut man, Formaggio from the Assassination Team, was leisurely resting in Mista's pants pocket.

After he used his Stand "Little Feet" to cut Mista's hand, he immediately turned around and used his ability on himself.

Unlike other targets that require a certain amount of time to shrink, when Formaggio uses his ability on himself, he can complete the entire shrinking process in an instant.

And so, he first shrunk himself into an insignificant little man the size of a finger, and then, using the chaos created by his "disappearance," he silently grabbed onto Mista's trouser leg and climbed up into his pocket.

Mista had no idea that the enemy he was looking for had been hiding within himself all along.

As Mista turned and ran away in a panic, Formaggio, hidden in his trouser pocket, chuckled to himself.

"Is this brat trying to escape the range of my ability by increasing the distance?"

"That is indeed a possible solution, but unfortunately..."

The secret of speed can indeed break most Stand abilities.

Because the way Stand abilities take effect generally falls into two categories:

One type is a one-off deal, which immediately and permanently changes the target's state after use. Even if the user dies or leaves the area, the target affected by the ability will not be restored to its original state.

For example, Giorno's Gold Experience.

Another type is a continuous skill, which requires continuously affecting the target after use. The effect of the substitute can be canceled by killing the original or moving away from the substitute.

For example, Prosciutto's the Grateful Dead.

And now, Mista should be able to see it quite clearly:

His body is "gradually" shrinking, which must require the enemy's Stand to "continuously" exert influence on him.

In this way, as long as he can escape the range where the enemy's Stand ability is effective, the shrinking effect applied to him will naturally be removed.

The idea is indeed feasible, and it is Mista's only optimal choice at present.

It's a pity.

"What difference does it make how far you run!"

"I'm like a bank's debt collection text message, sticking to you like a shadow. How could you possibly escape the reach of my 'Little Feet'?"

Formaggio chuckled to himself with smug satisfaction.

He had previously received a request for help from Ghiaccio to intercept Mista, who was searching for ice, and was initially a little worried.

Because Mista's aimbot ability is almost unbeatable at long range, Formaggio is worried that he might not be able to find a chance to get close at all.

But to his utter surprise, the hurdle he was most worried about and most nervous about was passed so easily.

Mista was indeed a naive and inexperienced thug, just as the intelligence reports described. He hesitated whenever he encountered ordinary citizens, worried about accidentally harming civilians. He lacked the decisiveness and ruthlessness of a gangster who would rather kill a thousand innocent people than let a guilty person die.

How can someone in a high position have such womanly compassion?

"The boss's legacy, the organization's power, and that specialty product business worth hundreds of billions—you naive folks probably can't handle it!"

Like his companions, Formaggio's way of thinking was already different from that of normal people.

Normal people are like livestock domesticated by morality and rules, while they are predators who break free from all constraints.

Mista's naiveté led Formaggio to unconsciously underestimate his opponent, and he certainly had the right to be so relaxed now.

After all, the most difficult hurdle has been overcome, so the following battles should be even less challenging:

"Mista's ability is only to manipulate bullets; he has no sensory abilities at all."

"Once he slowly discovers the truth, I won't need to hide it anymore."

Formaggio thought to himself.

Then, at that moment, Mista ran about ten meters away for nothing.

Formaggio suddenly felt that the "bus he was on" had suddenly stopped.

Why did he stop here?

"Could it be that he noticed me so quickly? That shouldn't be possible!"

Formaggio carefully concealed his presence, afraid that his movements might be too obvious and alert Mista.

Mista didn't take any action at first; he just looked down at the ground, seemingly observing something.

An eerie silence suddenly fell over the air.

This silence made Formaggio feel uneasy, and he instantly suppressed the excessive ease that had arisen from his overwhelming advantage.

Finally, in his tense gaze...

Mista suddenly reached out a hand and tentatively touched his two trouser pockets.

I didn't find anything in the first pocket.

He immediately reached into the second pocket.

"He really found it! Why?!"

As he watched the large hand coming straight at him, Formaggio's expression changed drastically.

PS: Substitute Panel

Stand's name: "Little Feet"

Ontology—— Formaggio

Destructive power: D

Speed: B

Range: E

Endurance: A

Motion precision: D

Growth potential: C

A small, humanoid stand-in with long, sharp nails.

Targets stabbed by this Stand's index finger will gradually shrink, and the ability can be used on the user. Shrinking objects can be instantly restored to their original size by actively deactivating the ability.

One update again today. Still struggling to find the right feeling and atmosphere. It feels a bit like a rambling, diary-like account.