Bucciarati Team

Although Diavolo believed he had the situation under control, Scarlet had ultimately died beneath gunfire, just as Rolling Stones had foretold.

"Destiny."

"Was it really impossible to resist?"

Before those two unbearably heavy words, Diavolo foresaw his own death.

Whatever we did was futile.

We were all slaves to destiny.

Scarlet's pessimistic words echoed relentlessly through his mind, leaving him deeply unsettled.

"No!"

"The 'Emperor' is Diavolo! That has never changed!"

Diavolo clenched his teeth, endless flames blazing in his eyes.

"What of destiny?"

"If destiny decrees that I am about to die, then I will personally shatter that damned destiny!"

At that moment, he could not help but consider a question.

Why had Rolling Stones revealed the fate of his imminent death? What could possibly threaten the Dark Emperor who had been invincible for over a decade?

"Li Qing."

Diavolo immediately thought of that bald man who had suddenly barged into his low-profile life.

"Scarlet seemed to say that Rolling Stones only suddenly sensed the fate of his death and mine at around eight this morning."

"Around eight in the morning."

"Wasn't that exactly when that damned bald man appeared in my room?!"

"That's right. It was then."

"My fate, Diavolo's fate, changed!"

In that instant, the unfamiliar Eastern name Li Qing became a venomous snake coiled around Diavolo's heart, refusing to leave.

Diavolo no longer considered him a disgusting sewer rat, nor did he regard him as a pest he could crush at will—Li Qing had become his fated nemesis, a nightmare he had to erase!

"I can't keep acting so casually."

"I must use every possible method and mobilize every force available to eliminate that bald man as soon as possible!"

Diavolo thought so.

Before this, because he feared that information concerning his Stand ability might leak to organization executives of questionable loyalty, he had only deployed the Royal Guard members he trusted most to ambush Li Qing.

But now, Diavolo could no longer afford to care about that.

He knew he had to take a small risk and mobilize every force the Passion Organization could mobilize in Naples, crushing this nemesis of destiny before he could rise.

Of course.

His true identity and Stand ability absolutely could not be exposed.

If those organization executives heard anything they should not while dealing with Li Qing, then...

"Today." A chill gradually surged into Diavolo's strange yellow-green eyes. "I'm afraid a great many people will die."

Deep within Naples Prison, in a VIP suite.

That was right.

In this prison for serious criminals, there was actually a VIP suite that was well furnished and fully equipped, with internet access, telephones, a refrigerator, television, fresh food supplies, and waiters—prison guards—providing attentive service around the clock.

Polpo lived here, a Passion Organization executive in charge of Naples affairs.

One could glimpse the truth from this clearly improper VIP suite.

He lived here not because he had been caught committing a crime, but because he wanted to.

As an influential figure in the Passion Organization, this entire Naples Prison—no, this entire city of Naples—was Polpo's territory.

A prominent tree caught the wind. While wielding immense power, Polpo had also made countless enemies.

Rather than risk living outside, it was better to live directly in this prison, guarded by heavily armed men at all times.

In any case, to Polpo, going to prison felt like going home. Being in prison felt even better than being at home. Everyone inside was his underling, and they all spoke so pleasantly.

"Someone!"

"Get in here, quickly. I have something important to order!"

Polpo rang the bell in his room, summoning prison guards as if he were calling hotel staff for service.

Very soon, a neatly dressed female prison guard with a stern expression pushed open the door and entered.

"Lord Polpo?"

"What are your orders?"

Though she looked like an upright police officer, the moment she opened her mouth, she acknowledged Polpo, a criminal, as her boss.

Polpo did not waste any time, either.

This obese man, standing a full two and a half or six feet tall and built like a giant bear fattened up before hibernation, slowly rose from his luxurious sofa.

He looked down at the female prison guard.

"First, open the gates and prepare a car. The boss has given orders. This time, I will move out personally."

"Second, notify every organization member in Naples, especially those low-level thugs on the outermost fringe who gather street intelligence."

"Tell them to use every means at their disposal to search the entire city for a bald Eastern man named Li Qing."

"Third."

Polpo paused slightly before adding a special instruction.

"Notify the Bucciarati Team. Tell them the organization needs their strength right now."

Naples, an ordinary-looking tea restaurant.

This was actually the Bucciarati Team's permanent base.

The Bucciarati Team was a combat squad under Polpo's command, made entirely of Stand Users. They were responsible for maintaining Naples's underground order while also handling dirty and exhausting jobs.

Of course, calling them a squad...

There were actually only three of them at the moment, and they were all basically minors.

Eighteen-year-old Bruno Bucciarati.

Fourteen-year-old Pannacotta Fugo.

Fifteen-year-old Narancia Ghirga.

Though the three of them were ridiculously young, as Polpo's most trusted top combat force, their individual strength was beyond question.

Still, their numbers were rather low.

Bucciarati, the team's leader, had always been searching for suitable Stand Users to fill out his team.

And today just happened to be the day a newcomer joined.

"Leone Abbacchio, nineteen."

"You used to be a police officer?"

"Hey, hey. Why give up a perfectly good job as a cop to join the Mafia with us? Are you here undercover?"

Looking at the new team member named Abbacchio, who had just finished introducing himself, Fugo, who had a somewhat short temper, was the first to voice his doubts.

At the moment, Captain Bucciarati was outside taking a sudden call from the boss.

The responsibility of "getting acquainted" with the newcomer naturally fell to Fugo, who was only fourteen but had been the second to join the team and was therefore a veteran.

"Nineteen?"

"You're even older than Bucciarati. You're a whole..."

"One, two, three, four... four years older than me!"

"You're older than Fugo by one, two, three..."

Narancia, a "gifted child" who had put absolutely no skill points into math, counted on his fingers with a serious expression, trying to calculate the age gap between Abbacchio and the others.

Of course, no matter what Narancia was doing.

He did not even spare this so-called newcomer a proper glance.

"Giving the newcomer a hard time?"

"How boring."

Abbacchio curled his lip almost imperceptibly, then calmly answered Fugo's question.

"I already told Bucciarati everything that needed to be said before joining the team."

"That's right. I used to be a cop. I left the force for certain reasons, and now I'm changing careers to become a Mafia thug."

"As for whether I'm undercover?"

"Heh."

He shrugged helplessly and smiled.

"When I was a cop, I already knew that this country called Italy was rotten from the inside out."

"Isn't the so-called 'police force' just a branch office run by you mafiosi?"

"Who exactly would I be undercover for?"

"Hahahaha."

Hearing that, Fugo immediately reined in his temper and burst into exaggerated laughter.

"I'm joking. I was only joking."

"You're the new guy. Of course we have to take care of you!"

"Come!"

"Drink this cup of tea first. From now on, we're all family!"

As he spoke, Fugo stood from beside the table and warmly poured Abbacchio a steaming cup of black tea.

Then...

Right in front of Abbacchio, he bent down, scraped a clump of black grime from beneath his leather shoe, dropped it into the teacup, and even stirred it with his finger.

"Come on!"

"Abbacchio, drink it!"

Fugo pushed the cup of tea, now stirred black, before Abbacchio with a broad smile.

"Tch. Child's play."

"Every organization has its ways of welcoming newcomers. Compared to the police force, you mafiosi aren't nearly bad enough!"

Abbacchio showed his disdain without the slightest attempt to hide it.

As he spoke, he casually picked up that freshly made cup of muddy water and drank it in one gulp without changing expression.

"No way..."

"He actually drank it?"

Fugo and Narancia were both stunned by that move.

"What a ruthless guy."

"With someone like him in the team, any newcomers who join later are definitely going to have a hard time, aren't they?"

Seeing how skilled Abbacchio was at this "newcomer welcome," they could not help worrying for any future newcomers who might join the team.

At that moment, Bucciarati returned after finishing his call.

Though he was only eighteen, whenever he spoke to his own people, this young man always exuded a special air of mature steadiness, like an adult, and a comforting warmth, like an elder.

"Abbacchio."

"How is it? Are you getting along with Fugo and Narancia?"

"Pretty well."

Abbacchio said casually, "These two 'little' seniors are both very good at taking care of people."

"That's good, then."

Bucciarati's slightly suspicious gaze moved back and forth between Fugo and Narancia's guilty faces, but in the end, he did not say anything more.

"Since everyone has gotten acquainted, let's get down to business!"

"This came rather suddenly, but..."

"Abbacchio."

He deliberately looked at the newcomer who had just joined the team. "Your first mission after becoming a Mafia member has arrived."

"Oh?"

Abbacchio asked with interest, "What mission?"

Bucciarati took a deep breath and slowly answered, "Murder."