Giorno Giovanna

Giorno Giovanna has a dream, which is to become a Gang-star.

This dream is far from being realized, nor is he ready to realize it for the time being.

Because

He is only 13 years old now.

At present, he is just an ordinary student in an ordinary middle school in Naples.

At this very moment, Giorno is not mingling in the underworld as he yearns to, but is instead on a school bus with a group of naive and immature brats, participating in a boring spring trip.

That's right, in Giorno's eyes, his classmates are basically brats he can't communicate with.

Unlike those immature students who are unaware of what the world is like or how cruel reality can be, Giorno had an extremely unfortunate childhood:

His biological father, whose identity is unknown, never appeared in Giorno's life: this guy seemed to have died long ago, leaving behind only a sinister photo with an unidentifiable face.

His biological mother, a new-style trendy woman who grew up during Japan's bubble economy era, was a frivolous woman who refused to bear the responsibility of motherhood and only knew how to seek pleasure in bars and nightclubs.

Giorno had been accustomed to a solitary life since he was a baby. When he was four years old, he left his hometown Tokyo with his mother, who had married an Italian, and came to Naples, located on the other side of the globe.

The loneliness of having no one to care for him, the bitterness of leaving his homeland, coupled with the endless pain of abuse from his cruel stepfather...

Giorno grew up in hardship.

He is strong, calm, mature, steady, exceptionally wise, and flawless.

Because of these unique qualities, Giorno seemed out of place among his mediocre middle school classmates.

This was something that could be seen with the naked eye:

At this very moment, he was sitting by the window in the second-to-last row of the school bus, silently and discreetly watching the scenery outside.

He was wearing nothing more than the same black school uniform as his classmates.

But even so, Giorno's chiseled features, like an ancient Greek sculpture, his deep azure eyes, like the surface of the Mediterranean, his naturally curly and radiant golden hair, and his slightly defined and shapely muscles...

Completely revealed his distinctiveness.

And distinctive individuals are always lonely.

Giorno's extraordinary aura, besides attracting admiring glances from girls, also drew the hostility and jealousy of school bullies.

Even though Giorno was quietly leaning against the car window watching the scenery, some boys who disliked him would still come over to cause trouble.

"Hey, hey... Giorno!"

A tall, burly guy, with a few followers, approached him:

"Wasn't your hair supposed to be black?"

"How did it suddenly turn golden!"

"Hahaha"

"Do you think you're too ugly with your Eastern features, so you dyed your ugly black hair!"

They wore wicked smiles, openly mocking Giorno's Eastern heritage.

This wasn't due to racial discrimination, but rather using it as an excuse to vent their frustration—because of Giorno's immense popularity among girls and his usual aloof demeanor towards his classmates, these ill-tempered bad boys had long been annoyed by him.

"..."

Giorno remained silent for a moment, then said very calmly:

"You're overthinking it, I didn't dye my hair."

Humans are inherently xenophobic. Having had pure black hair since childhood, he had already suffered a lot of mistreatment since arriving in Italy.

Yes, although most Italians also have black hair, Giorno's black hair, stemming from his Eastern heritage, was always seen differently by them—in their eyes, it was the most obvious mark of Giorno being an outsider, an inherent trait that would lead to rejection.

But Giorno hadn't dyed his black hair.

His current head of naturally curly, brilliant golden hair had suddenly changed just a few days ago.

And at the same time as the miraculous change in his hair color, Giorno also suddenly discovered that he seemed to possess some kind of special ability that ordinary people couldn't see.

Of course, he wouldn't explain any of this to his classmates.

He had no need to explain, nor did he deign to.

"Hey, hey!"

"You didn't dye your hair? Are you calling us blind, Giorno!"

Giorno responded with composure, but the bullies' tone became even more aggressive:

"You secretly dyed your hair gold and are now too guilty to admit it?"

"Pah!"

"What a lowly foreigner..."

The tall leader cursed Giorno's immigrant status fiercely, and the followers behind him joined in with loud mockery.

Unfortunately, Giorno remained unmoved.

This complete disregard for his opponents made the bullies realize Giorno's disdain for them, which in turn further ignited the rage of these ignorant youths.

"Damn it."

"Just admit it honestly!"

"You deliberately dyed your hair that flashy gold, trying to fool all the girls at school, didn't you!"

The boy's naive jealousy gradually turned into pure malice.

The tall leader, not only enraged and raising his voice in insults, but also brazenly reached out and fiddled with the three "donuts" on Giorno's head. No, those three naturally curly golden hair spirals.

At this moment, Giorno finally looked up.

"You guys are boring."

He said with a dark expression, his voice calm yet forceful:

"Don't make me say it twice."

"If something can be done in one go, but you have to say it a second time, it means the listener's brain is pretty bad."

He stared intently at the bullies in front of him with his deep, sea-like emerald eyes. A terrifying aura suddenly appeared on his young yet resolute face:

"I've already told you, I didn't dye my hair."

"Please don't make me say it a third time."

"This—"

The bullies shivered in unison.

Giorno's single expression made them instinctively feel fear.

What kind of expression was that?

They couldn't find any words to describe it. If they had to use one word to portray Giorno's appearance at that moment, it could only be—

A Dio-like face.

However, the intimidation of his aura could only last for a moment.

Those bullies quickly remembered their advantage in numbers, and the fact that Giorno had just pointed at their noses and humiliated them:

"You brat..."

"How dare you call us stupid!"

They raised their fists high, as if ready to resort to violence at any second.

But Giorno's expression remained calm, so calm it made those little brats who hadn't even grown full facial hair feel unsettled.

"Don't be scared!"

To encourage his companions, the tall leader blustered with false bravado:

"This kid is just putting on an act!"

"He's just a bit more muscular, can he really take on all of us by himself?"

"Yeah!"

"Everyone, don't be intimidated by Giorno!"

A follower immediately chimed in, and took the opportunity to joke about a phenomenon-level fighting game from Giorno's hometown of Japan, which was extremely popular among their group of post-85s:

"He's just a brat from Japan..."

"What are you afraid of, afraid he'll use 'Hadouken' and 'Shoryuken'?!"

"..."

Giorno closed his eyes and sighed almost imperceptibly:

Really.

Dealing with people like this, who have no brains, is too troublesome.

Since you insist on causing trouble, I'll just have to teach you a lesson.

"Go ahead, Golden."

Giorno slowly opened his eyes, and a determined hostility surged within them.

"Shoryuken!!"

A cry of utter disbelief suddenly rang out in the school bus.

This was, of course, not a move name shouted by Giorno, but an exclamation of shock from a sharp-eyed boy in extreme amazement.

That's right.

Under the gaze of half the students in the bus, a seemingly ordinary park grove outside the window directly erupted with a "qi blast" that was strikingly similar to the "Shoryuken" (Dragon Punch) from the Street Fighter game.

It flew directly along a vertical trajectory and collided head-on with the speeding school bus.

Even more miraculously, this "qi blast" actually penetrated the metal body of the bus, flew into the carriage, and ultimately, by sheer chance, struck the tall boy who had just insulted Giorno.

Then, in the very next second...

"Echoes Act!"

A bald, muscular Eastern man suddenly "flew" in through the car window.

He passed through the car's metal plating like a phantom, stirring up a gust of wind in the air.

Finally, he stopped abruptly, delivering a flying kick to the tall teenager's shocked cheek.

The arrogant bully stumbled to the ground on the spot, his face swelling up like a foamed sponge.

"Sorry."

"That was the least amount of force I could manage."

The bald man said politely, "Either way, thank you for being here."