Chapter Text
Napoli, Italy. The year is 2029. Although technology has made huge progress, the city remained attached to its ancient roots, maintaining that genuine aura of carelessness that has characterized it for centuries. In the meanders of the historic district, between the wide streets but packed with people, a young boy walked through the crowd in the opposite direction. He strolled beside the colourful workshops and restaurants, checking his phone for any messages and finding none.
He then took a sudden turn to the left into a narrow path, hidden from the oblivious eyes of the tourists, where the "benign tumour" kept its dark activities. Far from the public reach.
As he sped up his pace, he glanced his surroundings. He noted a couple of guys beating up a man in a white tank top. The two were dressed neatly into what seemed to be expensive suits, which meant only one thing.
These men were part of the Mafia.
"Have you got a death wish?!" The man on the right yelled, punching the poor fellow in the jaw. "Do you have any fucking idea of what'd happen if they caught you selling this?!" He shouted again while shaking a small plastic bag right at his face. The transparent sack showed a tiny amount of white powder inside of it.
So that was the problem…
The other guy stepped forward and grabbed the man from the hems of the tank top. Once he pulled him off the ground, he threw him against the wall. "This time we're gonna leave you with a warning…" the mafioso looked at him straight in the eyes before he let loose his grip on the shirt. The young man recalled of the time his father told him about the days before he was born.
"The streets weren't as safe as they are today…" they were sitting by the doorstep, watching whoever passed in front of their home. "There were drug dealers everywhere, and they didn't mind what age their clients had, if they had the money, the deal was done." his father had always been on the right side of the law, but listening to his stories, he understood pretty quickly that the trust was long gone.
"The cops were completely useless, if they patrolled while blindfolded it wouldn't have changed anything." He took a drag from the cigarette, "but when the Boss showed up, every single one of them disappeared into nothingness." He emphasized that statement by exhaling the smoke through his lips, and then he swatted it away with one big movement of his arm.
That was the day the boy learned about Passione and his leader, Giorno Giovanna.
Unlike the other Mafia organisations, Passione has contributed to the country's wellness by providing its citizens of the "Bel Paese" a sense of safety and serenity for almost thirty years, especially during the most critical times such as the 2020 pandemic crisis. Giorno Giovanna was, without the shadow of a doubt, the most controversial character in the Italian political landscape. A certified Mafioso, with probably tens of murders behind, posing next to politicians and high ranking people. The common people loved him, even his more harsh opponents had somehow a minimum of respect for the man deep inside. Nobody couldn't ignore what he has done for the nation.
The young man walked past the three adults, strolling down further in the alley. he took his phone out again, still no messages. In the exact moment, he was putting his phone inside the pocket, the young man ran into another guy, thus making the boy lose his balance and fall on his ass.
"Excuse me I wasn't paying attention to where I was going..." he apologized immediately, then he looked up to the person in front of him.
He was probably in his teens, pretty tall, around 181 cm more or less, his hair was cut short on the sides, with a star-shaped design on the right side. The hair colour was generally black, but the hair tips on the top of his head turned in a satisfying dark blue, and his turquoise eyes were that kind of eyes that could stare deep in your soul. His clothes were nothing too much out of the ordinary, he wore a black t-shirt, who had three horizontal slashes that let the observer see a glimpse of his well-toned body. above it there was a blue open sweatshirt with its sleeves rolled up all the way to the elbows, a white star patch could be seen in both shoulders of the said sweatshirt. His pants were of an expensive-looking white, with custom suspenders (the word "Giogio" written all over) attached to them, the socks underneath were black with a white star pattern, followed by black and white sneakers.
"No need to apologize, I wasn't looking too." He dismissed the problem with a humbled smile while waving his hand. The young man got back to his feet and swept some dust off his clothes, there was something strange with the guy, especially those eyes.
They looked way too familiar for his taste.
“It may be a sudden question but...do you know the whereabouts of this establishment?” the teen in front of him pointed at his phone’s display, it indicated a place called “Il cratere del Vesuvio”, not too far from where they were standing now. “Actually…” the young man twisted his torso and extended his arm towards the only place near them, “It’s right there, pretty hard to miss it.” The teen gazed in the same direction the young lad guided him to. There it was, the place he was looking for, complete with red insignia.
Then the teen started laughing out loud, “Grazie! You saved me! I have a terrible sense of direction, I get lost way too easily.” he walked beside him with a goofy grin, as soon as he thought he was out of the boy' sight, his expression changed into a colder one.
The sudden change startled the young man, that made the teen even more intriguing in his eyes than he already was. he observed him as the adolescent descended a short flight of stairs before opening the door. he felt the urge to follow him inside the place growing stronger in his mind, there was something off about him, and he intended to find out what was it. he sprinted after him, jumping the stairs and passed through the door before it could shut itself.
He found herself in a very crowded room, the loud shouting and the strong artificial light were giving him a headache. The young man looked around the sea of people, the green-haired teen was nowhere to be seen. He noticed how all the crowd was all pressed against the sides of the room, deliberately leaving the centre free.
In fact, at the centre of the room were two men, actively trying to knockout one another with their fists, 'oh no, I ended up inside an illegal fight club' he thought.
He watched the match happening before his very eyes, calling it an even fight was too inconsiderate from his part. The battle was pretty much one-sided, with a beast of a man absolutely demolishing his opponent with precise yet powerful punches. However, his adversary managed to land a hit on his face, only to retract it immediately after while letting out a bone-chilling scream of pain. The fingers were all broken as if he'd jabbed the concrete instead of his opponent's jaw, while the man seemed to be completely unfazed by the hit.
The adversary's scream was then brought to an end with a right hook, the crowd cheered as the body fell limp on the floor. The young man couldn't take off the unconscious guy as they were dragging him away from the arena.
"Haha, that's the champ for you, kid." The guy next to him averted his distress and patted his shoulder a few times.
"Who is he?"
"His name is Martello, believe it or not, that man is 57." the young man stared in awe Martello, the old man showed little to no signs of his old age, his overly muscular body presented some circular scars in the torso, a half skull tattoo covered the top of his bald half. He stood there, appreciating the sound of the people chanting his name.
"He arrived two months ago, and since then he hasn't lost a single match, always by a large margin." Then the young man noticed a person handing some money over to what seemed to be the staff of the place.
"Don't mind him, he keeps betting against the champion hoping to get a huge amount of money." The guy explained to him, clearly not having high regard of the poor dude.
"Oh, here he comes, the owner of the place, Signor Avido…" He shifted his attention to the centre again, the man in question wasn't even half the height of Martello but looked just as intimidating.
He had a mic in his hand, it was needed to drown out the incredible noise made by the cheering crowd. "As it was evidently anticipated, the winner is once again the champion." Another cheer, Avido watched with glee the money circulating from hand to hand. He could already feel the comfiness of the driver seat of the brand new sports car he will buy with all those fresh 100€ bills.
"So, is there any of you ugly mugs that want to face Martello and become the champion of 'Il cratere del Vesuvio'?" He spoke through the microphone, a hand raised above the timid faces.
"I'll go." a teen passed through the people, the young man recognized immediately those unusual blue hairs. "It's him?!" He leaned forward with his mouth wide open. The guy next to him raised an eyebrow in confusion.
“Do you know him?"
Avido scanned the teen head to toe as he approached the centre of the room, he may be tall and in exceptional shape, but he was still a kid. "Are you the one who talked, boy?" He asked mockingly, the teen just eyed him.
“Yes, you got problems with that?” The owner didn’t like at all the tone the boy was using, but he decided to let it pass for the moment. “If you want to be beaten up so much, who am I to stop you? Avido expressed himself, moving two steps away so that the teen could set closer to Martello.
“We would see about that.” said the younger of the group with presumption, Avido's patience was shortening each time he interacted with the teen, on the other hand, Martello took the not so implied hint of challenge in the boy's words, already imagining his knuckles full of blood after the fight. The boy took off his sweatshirt and t-shirt, revealing his incredible physique and a star-shaped birthmark on his left shoulder, together with his shoes and socks. He attracted some glances from the feminine part of the audience, not that he cared that much.
"Okay kid, may you tell me your name?" The boy put his right hand on his chest, directly over his beating heart.
My name is Gioele Giostar, and I'm here to take you down, Martello.
Just one sentence that was capable of igniting the entire room with excitement. The young man saw something like an angelic light coming out of Gioele' silhouette while the man from before was already handing all that was left in his wallet to place his bet.
"You got some balls, kid, this is going to be entertaining." Martello replied, taking a few steps back to begin the match. Once the two were in position, Avido was ready to start the show.
"The fight begins n-" "Hold on a second!"
The owner, together with the whole audience lamented the sudden interruption. "Before the fight starts…" Gioele then squatted near his sweatshirt, fishing some cash out of its pocket. "I want to place a bet of 100€ on myself." Now everyone in the room was flabbergasted, this kid came out of nowhere to fight the champion, and now he wants to bet on himself?
"Who the hell do you think you are?!" Avido yelled at him, in response, Gioele threw the money at him and pointed at the blackboard hanging in the staff’ stand.
“A guy who wants to win 50.000€.” he explained in a calm manner with a veil of arrogance that made both Avido and Martello furious. The odds for the challenger's victory were a solid 500/1, with that in mind, Avido quickly thought of a plan.
"I'll accept your bet but on one condition…" The owner's face contorted in an evil expression.
"if you lose, you'll pay the same amount that you'd receive in case of victory." Avido hoped to instil fear in the boy's heart, but Gioele didn't flinch one bit.
"I accept the condition." He said confidently, looking straight at his opponent. Avido couldn't wait to see Martello break him in half.
"The fight begins now."
The two started walking in a circle, studying each other. Martello was ready to pummel the kid until he was no longer recognisable, but he stopped his movement soon after with open arms, leaving his body completely exposed to any attack. “What is he doing?” the young man in the public asked, just like before, the man freed him from his doubt.
“That’s Martello's gimmick, he always let his opponent hit him first, and somehow it always end up with them cry for their broken arm”
“Let me honest with you, boy, I want to see you suffer, but as I did with every opponent before you, I'll let you hit me once.” Martello yelled standing in place. He had a foolproof plan, and he intended to use it once again. Gioele assumed his fighting stance as he approached cautiously the Champion and, when he was close enough, he readied himself to kick Martello.
The Champion's face though broke into a creepy smile.
‘Perfect, the brat is going to kick me! It's time to use my stand "The Wall" to harden my sk-’ Martello didn't have the time to end his thought that Gioele kicked him right under the chin, his legs forming a perfect 180° angle. Martello fell on his back, the impact broke a few teeth inside his mouth together with a great deal of pain. He then touched the skin around the jaw, it was clearly thicker than before.
‘The hell just happened?! I was sure I activated The Wall in time!’
“Hey, dumbass…”
Martello raised his head to see Gioele enveloped in an imposing aura, glaring daggers at the man, his leg had a strange blur on it, a ghostly image of a metallic limb.
“Are you a Stand user?” Martello was petrified, the only people he knows that were stand users, all of them were affiliated with the Mafia. ‘Oh god, did they found me? They're surely behind this, they sent someone to kill me.’ He thought.
Martello spat out some of the blood that accumulated inside his mouth, then he used his Stand to harden the skin around his hand, got up to his feet and charged at Gioele. The Champion proceeded to swing his fists at Gioele, but the teen managed to avoid them with ease. “If there's something I hate more than everything…” The teen repositioned himself next to his opponent, a blue entity was directly behind his shoulders.
Martello observed it with horror in his eyes, it had an humanoid shape, its body constitution and stature were similar to Gioele’s. Half of his face was covered by a respiratory mask jet fighter pilots used to wear, two tubes connected it to the back of the neck. Its eyes were two sparkles in a sea of darkness which, like two lighthouses in a cloudless night, illuminated his surroundings. two mini helicopter blades were attached to its silvery forearms, one for each limb, two endless dark pits were located in the palms of its hands.
“...are those who use their stands to elevate themselves over normal people.” For the few instants of quietness that were left, Martello could swear he saw the Stand shine, as the first punch of a swift barrage of powerful attacks connected with his face.
MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA
Every single punch landed on Martello's body, which couldn’t endure the overwhelming beatdown for much longer , then Gioele brought back his right arm and fused it with the Stand's one, all set for the final blow.
MUDAAAH!!
The sheer force behind that punch made Martello fly into the wall. Barely conscious after the beatdown, he fell on his knees soon after. The crowd had no idea of what they just witnessed but cheered anyway, one of them more than everyone else.
Gioele turned to face his stand, a smile brighter than the sun appeared on his face.
“Thank you, Blue Sky Bullet.”
Jojo’s Bizarre adventure ~ Sky’s the limit
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
49.000, 49.500, 50.000€. Gioele counted happily the stack of money the staff was so kind to hand him after the battle, the still-fresh memory of Avido's face in complete incredulity made him giggle once more. He put the cash back on his pocket, the sun was already behind the horizon, the day was slowly turning into a wonderful night, the street lights were illuminating his way home.
But he felt in the back of his mind that something was wrong. "I didn't expect you to follow me inside, but now I think you're overdoing it." He suddenly spun his head behind him, the young man who was just a few meters away from him froze in place.
"I'm sorry, I was, uhm…" he tried to elaborate a good excuse on the spot. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna bite you." He said jokingly as he got closer to the boy.
"What's your name?"
"Marco." The young man replied.
"Great, Marco. Let me tell you something, I really like this dark yellow shirt of yours." Marco raised an eyebrow. "Thanks, but this is… red?" He was confused, how could he mistake his shirt colour from this close? they were under the streetlight, too.
Gioele snapped his fingers, he had the same goofy smile he wore earlier when they accidentally met. "Damnit, I never get it right on the first try." His response bewildered the young man even more. "Oh yes, obviously I have to explain it to you…" he then pointed at his eye, "I'm actually colourblind, protanope to be exact. To cut it short, I can't distinguish the red from green. To me, your shirt has the same colour as the grass." That explains his outfit being primarily blue and partially his terrible sense of direction.
"Aren't some colourblind glasses on the market already?"
"Yeah, but that shit doesn't work for-" he stopped instantly, he stared out in the poorly lighted alley with his eyes wide open. "Get behind me…" he ordered Marco that, even though he didn't know what was going on, he silently complied.
A menacing presence stepped out from the shadows, brandishing a knife on his right hand. "I know who you are, brat…" Gioele frowned the moment the lights shone on the aggressive stranger's face. Martello was barely on his feet, the damage he took in the fight was keeping him from attacking head on the two young men.
"...you're his son, aren't you? That surname you said earlier it's false…" he talked between long breaths. Martello took a step closer to his target, Gioele kept his guard up in case of an imminent attack while putting himself in front of Marco.
"Your father killed the Boss, I know that... the story of him being the boss all along it's a total bullshit…" Gioele summoned his Stand again, feeling the danger approaching with each step the old man took. Shortly after, the man bounced forward, pointing the knife to the teen.
DIE, GIOELE GIOVANNA!!
He went for the killing blow, but as he thought the blade was deep in Gioele's guts, he felt a white-hot pain spread on his back. He could tell that something just pierced through his flesh, but when he looked down to see that both his and Gioele's arms were gone, he had a full confirmation of his theory. Behind his back, there were the two missing arms, with one grasping the other, floating in mid-air. The teen neared his face to the offender's ear, whispering to him a sort of advice.
"You better harden the skin around the blade if you don't want to bleed to death."
The aggressor felt the knife being pushed deeper in his back, hot blood spilt out from the wound, travelling down his spine, the pain was unbearable.
Martello soon collapsed on the sidewalk, Marco looked horrified at the scene while Gioele stood motionless. This is not good.
A police car who was driving near the street soon arrived on the spot, a Carabiniere then opened the door with her gun already in her hand, holding the blue-haired teen at gunpoint.
"Put your hands up!!" She ordered, her colleague was talking in the car radio, Gioele had nothing left to do but to obey the order.
"Datemi una cazzo di tregua…"
----To be continued---->