Chapter 218 Healing
Giorno replaced Mista's damaged internal organs with ease.
Mista managed to survive.
The dying man, who was bleeding from all seven orifices and unable to move a minute ago, now jumped up from the ground alive and well.
"Give life and hope to dead things."
"Even with his Stand abilities, it's a far cry from the evilness of that man."
Jotaro on the side became more and more emotional.
Of course, he wasn't in a hurry to find out about Giorno's identity and background, nor did he develop a prejudice against him.
After all, blood does not define a person.
Since we can be sure that Giorno's spirit shines like gold, why bother about his origins?
Jotaro put the matter of Giorno's father behind him for the time being.
Giorno, on the other hand, held on to his broken body and began to use the Golden Experience to perform skin grafting surgery on his traumatized body.
The charred and dead skin was torn off alive, and new flesh and blood quickly filled the wound under the shadow of the fist.
The process was of course extremely painful.
But Giorno was able to endure the severe pain while chatting with Jotaro beside him with cold sweat on his forehead:
"Mr. Jotaro."
"Did you find any trace of a pink-haired middle-aged man when you came here?"
This is Giorno's biggest concern.
Diablo had just been poisoned, and the person he was most worried about, Jotaro Kujo, was already at the scene.
There is no doubt that now is the best time to kill Diablo and solve the problem once and for all.
"Middle-aged man with pink hair..."
But Jotaro gave a disappointing answer:
"I did meet him outside the Colosseum."
"It's a pity that I couldn't stop that man from escaping."
He was too worried about Polnareff's safety, so after Diablo disappeared, he did not think of tracking him, but immediately went into the Colosseum to check the situation.
This way, Diablo had enough time to escape.
"Is that so..."
Giorno frowned:
This is obviously very bad news.
Diablo is not an easy opponent.
The Crimson King's abilities are elusive, and he himself is as cautious, secretive, and deadly as a venomous snake.
If we let him run away like this, there will probably be endless trouble.
But now that Diavolo has disappeared, there is no point in Giorno worrying:
"There's nothing I can do..."
"Several minutes have passed. Diablo may have already run away."
"He is cautious by nature. If he is given enough time to prepare, even Apache's Melancholy Blues may not be able to do anything."
"In this case, if we want to find Diablo's whereabouts, we have to find another way."
Giorno talked to himself with a serious expression.
The golden experience was still slowly replacing the burnt skin on his body. The bloody and shocking scene made the current atmosphere seem heavy.
"Feel sorry."
There was a rare hint of guilt in Jotaro's voice.
Of course, this guilt was not because of Giorno, whom he had just met, but because of Polnareff.
Jotaro was regretting. He regretted that he had not noticed Polnareff's situation earlier, and he also regretted that he had not been able to stop the demon that had hurt Polnareff so much.
Now that Diablo is gone, he doesn't know when he can avenge his friend.
When he thought of this, Jotaro's clenched fists trembled slightly:
"It's okay, Jotaro."
Polnareff once again uttered these words of comfort.
He keenly noticed that after witnessing the tragic sight of his own broken hands and feet, Jotaro fell into a state of depression from which it was difficult to escape.
This was not what Polnareff wanted to see.
This is not what Jotaro Kujo, the unwavering man, should look like.
“There’s no need to blame myself for what happened to me.”
"I am a warrior. Just a pair of legs...it can't affect my will."
Polnareff tried hard to look carefree.
But, unfortunately...
Even if Polnareff tried his best to be the unyielding optimist and the cheerful comedian of the team, he could no longer act out that feeling.
After all, ten years have passed.
Only Polnareff knows how he spent the past ten years.
The lost legs and feet can never be recovered, and the pain of the past decade is equally indelible.
Now, he is no longer the young swordsman who would show off his gorgeous sword skills in battle, nor is he the optimistic young man who still has the mind to make "underwear" jokes when trapped at the bottom of the sea.
Polnareff has become a mature and steady middle-aged man, in a heartbreaking way.
“…”
Jotaro didn't say anything more to blame himself.
But the atmosphere on the scene became increasingly dead silent.
The two looked at each other quietly, their eyes filled with indescribable complex emotions.
"that…"
Once again, Giorno interrupted at "inappropriate time".
He had completed the emergency treatment for himself with great difficulty, and all the hideous wounds on his body had disappeared.
Although the huge consumption of mental strength made him almost weak, with the support of a healthy body, Giorno's pale face was gradually regaining its rosy color.
"Mr. Jotaro."
Giorno slumped on the ground, breathing slowly to recover his strength:
"If possible, please move Mr. Polnareff to me as well."
"Um?"
Jotaro's body trembled.
He heard something from Giorno's words: "Could it be that Polnareff's injury..."
"I can cure it."
Giorno nodded solemnly.
"Old, old injuries are okay?"
Polnareff's voice suddenly faltered.
It was obvious that he didn't care as little about the lost legs as he had just said.
"That's fine."
Giorno smiled softly.
That smile was as warm as the sun that could revive all things:
"As long as the head is there, it doesn't matter what's missing."
※※※
Outside the Colosseum.
Under the manhole cover, in the sewage.
A pair of sharp eyes suddenly opened from the darkness.
“Cough cough cough…”
Diablo woke up from a brief coma and spat out a mouthful of thick, greasy feces:
"My head... my head... it hurts."
He covered his head which was almost splitting with pain, and it took him a long time to wake up:
"sewer…"
"W-Why am I here?"
The poison he had been exposed to was so strong that even his memory was disturbed.
He couldn't even remember how he escaped from the Colosseum, nor did he know why he found himself in this pile of manure in the sewer as soon as he opened his eyes.
Rats and cockroaches were crawling around, half of their bodies soaked in the foul-smelling liquid.
It was so miserable and pitiful.
Diablo suddenly felt humiliated, but quickly came to his senses:
No matter what, as long as the person is alive.
In the end, he managed to escape to a safe area before completely losing consciousness, and managed to save his life with great difficulty.
“It’s so uncomfortable…”
Diablo was still immersed in the strong aftereffects.
After struggling for a long time, he finally managed to stand up by holding on to the wall of the sewer.
It is said that the sewer is the conscience of a city, and Rome’s conscience is really great.
At least, this sewer is as wide as a small river, which is enough for Diablo to hide, stay, and move safely underground.
"We have to get out of here quickly."
“This place is still not safe enough.”
Diablo was acutely aware of his situation.
He began to move along the sewer to a farther and safer place.
But as he walked, feeling that his life was safe, he suddenly felt sad again:
“Damn it…”
"Where should I go?"
"What's the point of staying alive... The insect arrows were completely destroyed. I have lost the chance to turn the tables."
"Lee Sin, Giorno, Bucciarati... plus that damn Jotaro Kujo."
"With my current condition, I have no way of fighting against so many powerful enemies!"
Diablo suddenly found that his future was bleak.
He had already fallen into the dark and smelly sewer. No matter how hard he tried to move forward, all he would step on was shit.
The world is so big, but there is nowhere to stay.
"Power...power..."
"Damn it, where am I supposed to find the strength?!"
Thinking of the fate that seemed to be irreversible, Diablo was almost driven crazy by the depression.
He just walked aimlessly in the sewer, thinking, like a lifeless zombie.
"Having fallen into this situation, is there really any way for me to change my fate?"
"In the end, I will be like what the Rolling Stones predicted..."
" Die in an 'indescribable misery'?"
Diablo thought desperately.
At this time, he didn't know where he was in the sewer, but he happened to walk under a manhole cover.
The manhole cover is just an ordinary manhole cover with a small ventilation hole on it.
The light on the ground poured down from the vents, and in front of the desperate Diablo, in this dark sewer, it condensed into a straight beam of light.
The beam of light was small and weak, but sacred and bright.
It suddenly appeared in front of Diablo, like a miracle from heaven, like...
A long golden arrow.
"arrow…"
"Yes, it's an arrow!"
Diablo's eyes suddenly lit up.
He suddenly remembered that his life was actually closely related to arrows.
It was precisely because of the arrows dug up in Egypt that Diablo was able to build such a huge business in Italy with his invincible Stand ability and the means of mass-producing Stand users.
Later, the arrow was destroyed, and his life was destroyed with it.
but…
"There's more than one arrow!"
Diablo's heart was beating.
This long-lost surge of emotion made him, who was on the verge of death, suddenly feel like he was reborn:
"My arrow was destroyed along with Polpo, and the bug arrow was just destroyed by a bullet, but besides these two, there should be four more arrows in the world."
"I don't know the whereabouts of the other three, but Jotaro Kujo, that guy said on the phone..."
"There is an arrow, right now..."
A strange place name on the other side of the earth appeared in Diablo's mind like a life-saving straw:
"Morioh-cho!"
