The chase and the confrontation seemed intense, but in reality, Abbacchio and Mista had only moved about ten meters deeper into the ruins. The surroundings hadn’t changed much, and despite his initial nervousness, Mista had a significant advantage over Abbacchio, who was bleeding from three bullet wounds.
“How am I in a desperate situation?” Mista couldn’t understand. The other man, despite being clearly disadvantaged, exuded a calm confidence that puzzled him.
“Don’t bluff,” Mista shouted, his voice full of newfound authority as he pointed his gun at Abbacchio. “Don’t move! And that blue thing beside you, don’t move either!”
“Heh, still haven’t noticed?” Abbacchio smirked, ignoring the pain. “I guess it’s because I haven’t shown you my Stand’s ability. You have no idea.”
“My Moody Blues isn’t good at fighting,” he continued. “Its ability is to replay past events, mechanically following the target’s previous actions. It can’t freely attack.”
“But that doesn’t mean it can’t be used in combat,” Abbacchio’s voice grew more confident. “If Moody Blues can’t control its own path during the replay, then I’ll make my enemies step into its path!”
Mista looked puzzled, unable to comprehend Abbacchio’s explanation.
“You unknowingly walked into this trap,” Abbacchio said. “You followed me deeper into the ruins, but this distance was enough to seal your fate. Look at your feet.”
Mista glanced down, confused. “What? There’s nothing here… just the rubble left by that monster.”
But as Mista looked up, his expression turned to one of terror. The monstrous flesh he remembered so vividly from twenty minutes ago stood before him. The towering, grotesque mass of flesh with its twisted limbs and nauseating tumors cast a shadow over him.
This was not the actual monster but Moody Blues, having transformed into the beast to replay its past actions.
“Time and location are essential for replays,” Abbacchio explained. “Even though the terrain was destroyed, the creature’s movements are recorded here. This place is now the essential location factor for Moody Blues to replay.”
As Abbacchio spoke, the transformed Moody Blues activated its replay ability. It mimicked the beast’s ferocious charge from twenty minutes ago, moving towards Mista.
Mista instinctively fired his gun twice, but the bullets barely made a dent in the monstrous form. The creature’s massive body absorbed the shots with negligible effect, and Moody Blues continued its relentless charge.
Panicking, Mista tried to dodge, but the beast was too fast. It slammed into him, sending him flying into a pile of rubble.
The impact was severe. Although the creature’s body cushioned the blow somewhat, the force still caused significant damage. Mista, despite his tough physique, couldn’t withstand the continuous onslaught. He collapsed, unconscious.
Abbacchio sighed in relief. “Finally… I won.”
But as he clutched his bleeding wounds, he looked at the unconscious Mista. “Is this kid really an enemy of the organization?”
“He panicked and didn’t fully utilize his Stand. If he had, he might have been able to stop Moody Blues or at least take me down with him,” Abbacchio thought, frowning.
“Was I wrong? Am I fighting a novice who doesn’t understand anything about combat?” Abbacchio’s thoughts turned inward. He had joined the mafia, leaving behind his idealistic past as a young police recruit. Yet, seeing Mista’s fear and determination reminded him of his younger self.
With a bitter smile, Abbacchio muttered, “What am I thinking? I’m no longer that naive recruit… I’m part of the mafia now. Justice doesn’t matter anymore.”
Staring at the unconscious young man before him, Abbacchio felt a pang of something he hadn’t experienced in a long time. Reminded of his own past, he saw in Mista the same courage to stand up against a villain, even if it meant lying to protect someone.
“How ironic,” Abbacchio whispered to himself.
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