Mission

On the ground.

Mista's expression was incredibly complicated as he watched Formaggio flee into the drain.

He never expected that his opponent would find a glimmer of hope in such a desperate situation, and in such a tragic way at that.

Aren't you afraid of being eaten by rats in the sewers? That's a death a hundred times worse than being shot!

Mista was shocked by Formaggio's ruthlessness.

After a moment of unconscious surprise, he finally realized:

"Damn it! Don't run!"

Mista immediately pulled the trigger, firing two bullets in quick succession.

Team members No. 6 and No. 7 each piloted a bullet, following the direction where Formaggio disappeared, and crashed headfirst into the dark drainage pipe.

As the bullet flew into the drain, it had to make a sharp 90-degree turn to avoid hitting the narrow pipe wall.

This brutal turning motion alone is enough to consume most of the bullet's kinetic energy.

But when the Sex Pistols finally managed to adjust their trajectory, they were met with pitch-black darkness.

"Mista, Mista!"

After a swift dash, the urgent cries of the Bullet Knights echoed in Mista's mind:

"That guy isn't in the drainpipe; he's already hidden in the sewer."

"It's too dark inside the sewers; we have no way to lock onto our targets!"

"Is there really no other way?"

Mista's face showed a hint of helplessness.

He knew that his aim assist was actually based on the "eye guidance" of the Sex Pistols, and it would lose its effectiveness if the environment was too dark.

At this moment, Mista's Stands began frantically reminding him in his mind:

"Mista, we... we've shrunk again!"

"If this continues, the bullets will completely lose their power!"

Mista's shrinking will cause the items on her body, as well as her Stand, to shrink proportionally as well.

After the initial confusion, escape, observation, and attack, his body had shrunk to about half a meter, making the term "dwarf" seem inadequate to describe him.

If we shrink it further now, the situation will become very bad.

If the enemy were to suddenly appear and fight him again at this point, Mista might not even be able to come up with a way to harm his opponent.

"Mista, run!"

"Get out of that guy's range as quickly as possible, and we'll be completely safe!"

"Um."

Mista nodded emphatically.

As he deftly reloaded his empty revolver, he turned and began to run away into the distance.

However, he had only taken two steps when his legs involuntarily stopped.

"Hello!"

The impatient No. 3 urged impatiently in Mista's ear:

Why did you stop? Run away now!

"I haven't gotten the ice cream yet."

Mista suddenly turned around.

His gaze was fixed intently on the ground a dozen meters away, on the half-bucket of ice cream that had rolled onto the ground.

Previously, he was so focused on how to escape the enemy's bizarre attacks that he hadn't even had time to consider the mission he was carrying out:

"I need to go back and bring that half-baked tub of ice cream."

"Li Qing is still waiting for these ice creams to save her life!"

Mista suddenly spoke with utmost seriousness.

"Go back to pick up the ice cream?"

As one of the few Stands with self-awareness and a very distinct personality, No.3 doesn't particularly agree with this idea:

"Mista, haven't you noticed we're still shrinking?"

"Let's get the ice cream later, after we escape the enemy's range and grow bigger!"

Its advice is the most prudent and safest.

But Mista did not agree.

Because in addition to considering his own safety, he was also thinking about the safety of his companions:

"It would be safer to run away first, but that would take a lot of time."

"But what we lack most right now is time!"

The Little Feet's range is only 2 meters.

However, range refers to the distance a Stand can move away from its user, not the area within which its abilities can take effect.

For example, in that "future" without Li Qing, when Formaggio escaped into the sewers during his fight with Narancia, the two were more than 2 meters apart, but Narancia's shrinking state was not lifted at all.

Therefore, the range of influence of an ability can sometimes be far greater than the range of a Stand, and its exact size is difficult to estimate.

This is similar to a Wi-Fi signal; the signal weakens as you move further away, and the connection will naturally be interrupted.

The range of the signal connection that allows the Stand's ability to remain effective can be as long as nearly a hundred meters or even several hundred meters, or at least several tens of meters.

Mista vaguely knew this common knowledge.

That's why he didn't want to accept the suggestion to run away and save himself:

"With such a long distance, by the time I run out and come back, I don't know how much time will have been wasted."

"Li Qing is still trapped in the station—the fact that someone as agile as him could be trapped must mean the situation is more serious than we imagined. And now that I've been attacked, the others' search for ice probably won't go smoothly either."

"Every second I waste on the road now puts Li Qing's life in greater danger!"

Mista stated his thoughts with such conviction.

At the same time, he had already begun to change direction and started walking towards the surviving half-bucket of ice cream a dozen meters away.

"Mista"

No. 3 seemed to want to say something but hesitated.

But Mista said with complete confidence:

"Don't worry, this isn't as dangerous as you think."

"Don't forget, I've crippled that guy named Formaggio's knees, and now he can barely walk."

"It's only a short distance of ten meters, it won't take me more than a few seconds to go back and get it."

"In such a short time, even if he knew I was going back to get ice cream, do you think I would let a cripple get ahead of me?"

Hearing this, No.3 shut his mouth in relief.

Because it understood that Mista's actions were not a foolish act of desperation due to the safety of his companions, but rather a correct decision made after careful consideration:

He's right, Formaggio is now a disabled person.

This guy had just fled into the sewer in a sorry state, with a rat having chewed right through his shoulder.

Even if he wasn't dead, even if he could move, with a leg injured, how could he possibly outrun Mista running on a wide road in that dark and narrow sewer?

By the time Formaggio limped onto the ground, Mista had probably already escaped with the ice cream.

Upon closer examination, his decision was actually very safe.

And so, Mista exerted all his strength to move his legs and ran quickly backward.

He quickly and safely ran the dozen or so meters, then bent down and picked up the half-bucket of ice cream.

For Mista, whose body size has shrunk considerably, this ice cream tub is so big that he almost needs to wrap his arms around it.

Fortunately, Mista is sturdy and strong, and even after shrinking, she can still carry this half-bucket of ice cream with ease.

Everything went smoothly, and no danger occurred.

The lame Formaggio seemed to rot in the sewer, without any sign of life.

So Mista hugged the ice cream tub tightly, quickly turned around, and started running towards the train station.

However, before he had run two meters, a strange sound rang out from ahead.

The sound came from the manhole cover in front of Mista:

Squeak, squeak, squeak.

A jumble of rat noises came from under the manhole cover.

The sound was urgent and eager, as if the whole family of mice had gathered under the manhole cover waiting for their meal.

"A mouse? Oh."

"They must have smelled the ice cream on the ground, so they all gathered here."

Mista quickly understood why these rats had appeared:

Mice love sweets and have an exceptionally keen sense of smell.

The half-tub of ice cream had just been spilled on the ground nearby, so it's no surprise that the rats would gather under the manhole cover following the smell.

"Etc."

Mista's expression suddenly changed:

"Mouse Ice Cream."

He suddenly realized that he seemed to have overlooked something when calculating his opponent's movement ability.

This oversight could have very serious consequences for him.

Mista was thinking this in his heart.

The manhole cover in front of him was suddenly flung open.

An arm emitting a pungent stench suddenly reached out.

Mista had no time to react and was instantly grabbed by one of his legs by the large hand.

Then, he saw the ferocious face of Holmaggio:

"Ha ha ha ha."

"I knew it! I knew you'd come back here for ice cream!"

"Because we are the same kind of people, the kind of men who will do whatever it takes to complete our 'mission'!"

Formaggio gripped Mista's leg tightly:

"Unfortunately, Mista..."

"The one who must now complete this mission is me Formaggio!"