A gentleman does not stand under a dangerous wall

Inside the mansion, only the faint glow of a desk lamp lit the large study, casting dim shadows across the room. The meager light barely revealed the outlines of those within.

"What's going on outside? It's so damn noisy."

"We have visitors. Pet Shop is entertaining them."

"Can't that damned bird deal with them faster? If Dio-sama wakes up, none of us will have a good time."

"Those people outside… they seem like Dio-sama's kind…"

The moment those words slipped out, every head in the room snapped toward the speaker. A young boy sat there, clutching a thick, tattered book. His face went pale under their collective gaze, his hand trembling so hard the book nearly slipped from his grasp.

Everyone here, including himself, was dangerous—a collection of brutal, arrogant opportunists. One wrong word could see him flattened like roadkill.

"Put away that damned book, Boingo." The tall, disheveled-haired man across from him glared coldly. "Unless you want me to tear it to pieces."

"These people aren't worthy of being the same kind as Dio-sama."

"Alright, alright, Ace, I get it," another muttered, exasperated.

Ace scowled, his eyes lingering on Boingo, then swept over the others. His voice carried the authority of someone used to violence.

"If Pet Shop can't handle them, we'll step in. Dio-sama is still recovering—he cannot be disturbed."

Boingo shrank under their stares, hugging his book tightly to his chest. He swallowed hard, then slowly pried the cover open just enough to peek inside.

The pages revealed bizarre, cryptic drawings. His Stand, Thoth, manifested as this strange book—the images within depicting glimpses of the future.

Boingo's eyes widened.

There, on the page, was the face of their arrogant, seemingly invincible leader—Dio. But… his features were twisted in agony, blue flames devouring his body.

His throat went dry, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

He slammed the book shut, pulse racing.

His Stand never lied.

It had no offensive capabilities but its glimpses into the future were rarely wrong. The sketches had shown the outsiders possessing rapid speed, immense regenerative powers, and… a thirst for human blood.

One of their own, drained dry.

And then… flames. Blue flames engulfing Dio himself.

His hands shook as he clutched the book tighter and edged closer to his older brother, Oingo.

"Oingo, we… we should leave."

Oingo's eyebrows shot up. "You wanna sneak out?"

"Shh!" Boingo hissed, eyes darting around like a frightened animal. He only exhaled in relief when he saw no one paying them attention.

He tugged his brother to the side, away from the arguing group. Once they were in the shadows, he cracked open the book, revealing the ominous images.

Oingo's expression shifted from confusion to horror.

Their eyes met. Agreement passed between them instantly.

We need to get the hell out of here.

The two brothers were oddities among Dio's followers. Boingo, with his future-predicting Stand, and Oingo, whose Stand allowed him to change his appearance at will. Together, they could've been formidable villains.

In theory.

In practice? Every scheme they attempted fell apart spectacularly. They were constant laughingstocks among their comrades.

And tonight, Boingo's Stand had shown them their grim future.

No time to hesitate.

With Dio resting upstairs, the brothers pressed themselves against the wall, inching sideways like nervous crabs.

The dim lighting and the others' heated arguments masked their escape.

They slipped out of the mansion unnoticed, relief washing over them as they reached the front courtyard.

Above them, Pet Shop circled, fierce and imposing. Ice shards rained from its wings, cutting off the intruders' advance.

"Look," Boingo whispered, eyes wide.

A lone figure walked steadily toward the mansion. Unlike the others dodging and scrambling, this man moved as if the hail of ice shards were nothing more than raindrops.

Clad in a dark cloak, his steps were casual, his face holding a faint, unsettling smile.

"Is he suicidal? Walking straight at Pet Shop like that… Holy hell."

The falcon shrieked, its sharp cry splitting the night. More ice shards cascaded down, reflecting the moonlight like falling daggers.

But the man simply tilted his head, stepping around them. Not a single shard grazed his body.

Pet Shop's shriek turned into a growl. Its feathers ruffled, its predatory eyes narrowing in fury.

The air grew colder. Ice crystals solidified around the falcon's talons, sharp enough to pierce steel.

If ranged attacks failed, it would strike personally.

In the blink of an eye, Pet Shop dove, nearly vanishing from sight with its incredible speed, its claws aimed directly for the man's skull.

Boingo winced, expecting the inevitable.

Pet Shop might've been a bird, but it wasn't ordinary. It was Dio's personal pet, one of the Nine Glory Gods, and in pure combat, nearly unmatched.

The man should've been dead before he even realized what hit him.

But—

The moment the icy talons neared the man's face, they evaporated—instantly, silently—like mist under a scorching sun.

Only bare, useless claws swiped past.

To onlookers, it appeared Pet Shop had simply swooped down to fan the man with its wings.

In the stunned silence that followed, even the Vampires stopped firing.

The intruders. The defenders. Everyone froze, processing what they had just seen.

Only the man moved—an eyebrow raised in quiet amusement.

"Got you."

Before Pet Shop could react, blue flames erupted—silent, voracious, and all-consuming. In seconds, the falcon was reduced to a smoldering pile of black ash.

The Vampires gawked, dumbfounded. Their unstoppable opponent… gone. Just like the creature from the night before—the stream of water chasing them obliterated as easily as swatting a fly.

They'd faced Wizards before, but this wasn't the same. This wasn't even in the same league.

It was like comparing goldfish to whales—both swam, but beyond that? No similarity at all.

Selene recovered first. Her eyes never left the man's back, her expression unreadable.

"What are you standing around for? Move in," she ordered sharply. "In groups. If you find Dio, don't engage. Report to me—and Mr. Oka. Understood?"

"Understood," the group responded, shaken but refocused.

Meanwhile, the brothers crouched in the shadows, mouths agape.

Pet Shop—one of their most terrifying allies—eliminated like nothing. And those blue flames…

Boingo's trembling hands gripped his prophecy book tighter.

It was him. The figure from the visions. The walking disaster.

They needed to leave—now.

But as they turned to run, icy fear rooted them to the spot.

The man who had been by the mansion's gate only moments ago… now stood behind them.

Towering. Smirking. His mismatched, eerie eyes locked onto theirs.

"Good evening," Kai Adler greeted smoothly, his voice carrying the weight of death wrapped in politeness.

He smiled, sharp and predatory.