Slowly, besides his uncontrollable curiosity, he began to show rare interest in certain things, such as—
Human pleas for mercy, human death throes, human expressions of pain.
The number of people in this world is growing, yet there are no two completely identical individuals. Even if the exact same method is used to kill someone, the things they express are not entirely the same.
It's like the flowers in a garden; the flower I want to pick is always the next one.
Cioccolata learned too much from the painful deaths of others and began to think about problems from a superhuman perspective.
Alright, here's the problem.
Why, when I see a person, do I wonder how he will die, and then after killing him, I feel satisfied when I see his death?
After his deep consideration, careful reference, bold speculation, and cautious verification—
He, Cioccolata, had an epiphany.
This is a skill given to me by Heaven, a skill to observe the world, given by the Creator, a divine gift.
After this epiphany, he naturally obtained his Stand.
After obtaining his Stand, he felt that his ideas had been validated.
Before obtaining his Stand, he was always cautious, painstakingly careful, afraid that his pathetic little hobby wouldn't be satisfied, but the Stand gave him the best help.
He once had no choice but to go to the nursing home, to quietly whisper to those poor old people, telling them the cruel truth of things, watching them die in agony from despair. Besides that, he also wanted to be a teacher, to watch the most pitiful child in the class get bullied. The suffering of others was as refreshing to him as the coolness provided by the Ivy in his dilapidated and hot childhood home.
— The lush Ivy in his memory seemed to help him, growing wildly in summer, providing a touch of coolness when he was burning with a fever, uncared for.
That refreshing coolness, he never experienced it again; it was the most exhilarating experience besides killing.
When he obtained his Stand, he saw the final deaths of many who proclaimed themselves strong.
The deaths of the strong were far more beautiful than those of the lonely old people.
His gaze fell on Johnson Joffrey.
This boy was only a few years old, yet he exuded an unreachable power. Cioccolata moved slightly closer to the terminal building, picked up his binoculars, and looked down from above. The boy's golden hair fluttered. Cioccolata could clearly feel that when the mold landed on him, it would all perish.
"This is... Risotto's nephew. Why is he leaving?" Cioccolata was very smart, although he often acted like a fool. Diavolo's goal was to have him and Secco die, but he wasn't afraid at all.
Because in his opinion, his power was so great that even the Assassination Team couldn't defeat him. But the moment he saw Johnson Joffrey, he started to get a little scared. And although he wasn't very loyal to Diavolo, as long as Diavolo paid him, he would do almost any job.
Why, even though they were hundreds of meters apart, could he feel his power so clearly?
Was he really just Risotto's little nephew? If so... could it be that he was the mastermind?!
This feeling, I didn't even feel it when talking to Diavolo, yet I can feel it from him.
Cioccolata was never a good person; he was a complete scumbag, not even as good as a principled gangster. He lacked self-awareness, was a fickle bastard, a naive fellow, and a coward who would beg for mercy if he lost.
The moment he saw Johnson, he found his life's direction. This might be an opportunity to latch onto someone powerful; he smelled the scent of an evil strong person.
This feeling couldn't be wrong; it was the scent of a strong person.
Then an idea sprouted in his mind: What if I tell Diavolo about this?
I'll tell Diavolo that Johnson Joffrey is the mastermind behind the Assassination Team, let Diavolo fight Johnson Joffrey, and then I'll reap the benefits.
And, at this moment, where is Johnson Joffrey going alone?
He's immune to the mold of my Green Day. Logically, he should come to kill me immediately, so why is he in such a hurry to leave when his teammates are still here? Why?
Is he going to retrieve something important? Cioccolata flew his helicopter a little closer, took out a gun, and fired a shot at the car Johnson Joffrey had found.
The bullet from that gun landed in the parking space, flashing a red light. Cioccolata then pulled out a black box, and he could see a flashing light on the screen.
This was a tracker.
He made up his mind and picked up the phone specifically for contacting Diavolo.
"Diavolo, it's me, I'm Cioccolata."
"My Cioccolata, have you encountered something?"
The voice had been completely distorted by the voice changer, like an endless black hole, devouring anyone who lingered within it.
Although he didn't have Diavolo's trust, as a member of the Bodyguard Team, he was part of a team directly controlled by Diavolo, and also the closest team to Diavolo.
So they could contact Diavolo. This sense of mystery wasn't as profound as it was for other members, so Cioccolata and Secco didn't possess the fear and loyalty that ordinary members had.
Cioccolata was loyal to Diavolo simply because Diavolo could provide him with a stable environment, money, and people to kill.
"BOSS, I saw Johnson Joffrey leave the airport alone. I wonder where he's going?"
"Who did you say?"
"Johnson Joffrey, Risotto's nephew."
The BOSS on the other end was silent for a moment.
Cioccolata knew that the BOSS wanted to use the Assassination Team and Bucciarati's Team to get rid of him and Secco.
BOSS! You are so ruthless! But I, Cioccolata, even though I know you are a ruthless BOSS, I still tell you about Johnson Joffrey's suspicious actions.
This doesn't affect my, Cioccolata's, loyalty to you! You must be touched, BOSS.
"I've already put a tracker on Johnson Joffrey's car, BOSS."
"I know." The BOSS replied coldly, then hung up the phone.
Cioccolata immediately changed his respectful expression to a blank one; this kind of mood swing was something he often experienced. He looked towards Johnson Joffrey.
Johnson Joffrey found a car. Though he looked only in his teens, he skillfully backed out the red sports car like an experienced driver.
To be able to completely ignore my Green Day, Johnson Joffrey, I'll leave you to the BOSS to kill.
But, I really want to see your death face.
Johnson looked up at the helicopter. Cioccolata was inside.
You have to hold on, Cioccolata, at least let me get the arrow, then you can die.
No sooner had this thought crossed Johnson Joffrey's mind than he saw huge, gnarled trees suddenly sprout from the terminal building. These trees grew rapidly, quickly grabbing Cioccolata's helicopter as if they were alive.
This was Giorno's Gold Experience ability. This rapid growth of a tree that could firmly grasp a helicopter was indeed extraordinary. It seemed that on the streets of Cagliari, he had still held back, or perhaps he was not yet proficient in controlling his Stand.
Otherwise, in that street gunfight, he should have been able to catch Johnson's beat-up car.
Before Johnson could react again, he faintly heard gunshots. Mista had also taken action. The battle seemed similar to the original story, with Mista's Sex Pistols controlling bullets flying towards Cioccolata—
The battle was similar to the original, and this time there was help from others, so it was no longer a true one-on-one fight.
But something unexpected happened to Johnson.
Mista's bullets quickly transformed into a familiar figure—
This is Giotto?
To make Giotto turn into a bullet and then quickly recover? That's too tricky. I'm really worried about you, Cioccolata. Johnson Joffrey sped up; he knew Cioccolata wouldn't last much longer.
Please, Cioccolata, put in some effort!