Johnson Joffrey felt a bad premonition. The current situation was simply too complicated.
The root cause was his naivety; he hadn't expected Diavolo to act personally, nor had he expected him to have already found Trish's mother's hospital.
If they were to converge at the hospital now, their battle would begin immediately, and he was already spread too thin.
On one hand, he had just finished dealing with Giorno and Bucciarati's matters; on the other hand, he still had to pay attention to Ghiaccio and Formaggio's battle, and at the same time, there was news of a team in danger at the hospital, needing to return quickly.
Since Melone sent the message about the team being in danger, and they've already figured out Diavolo's ability, they must be fighting Diavolo right now.
He has to get there immediately, but his own strength is limited, so how can he defeat Diavolo?
Rushing in might lead to a complete wipeout.
His original plan was to team up with Bucciarati's Team, then go to Olbia to uncover Diavolo's true identity, post it online, meet Polnareff, and get the arrow, but now that he's in Cagliari, things are completely out of his control.
Sure enough, those grand strategies of planning from afar and winning a thousand miles away only happen in novels, right?
He could clearly feel his own powerlessness.
I'm too weak, but what should I do?
How can I make Reversed Hierophant stronger?
How can I protect my companions?
He had won again and again through luck, but now, even with luck, he had to lose something.
Johnson Joffrey placed Mista in the passenger seat.
Mista truly lived up to his reputation as JOJO's number one tank; despite such severe injuries, with his shoulder nearly half-severed, there were already signs of regeneration.
Johnson found a way to treat him again, and now his complexion had finally returned to normal.
If only I could pray to the heavens to make absorbing non-living objects painless.
Mista's shoulder was truly severe; it seemed Bucciarati had really struck hard.
His entire shoulder was split open, crimson muscle and pale bone exposed, and at first, even his breathing lungs could be seen.
This is all my fault.
Illuso's death was because I told him to go, and Mista's severe injury was also because I told him to stall for time.
Johnson Joffrey sat in the driver's seat, frowning, looking at the pale road ahead.
Confusion enveloped him like a thin mist.
If Risotto died, then the entire Assassination Team's fate would unfold exactly as in the original story.
I came to this world to change fate, but even though I've tried my best, I can only watch everyone die.
Has fate truly been changed by me?
Johnson Joffrey stomped on the accelerator, and the car roared.
If he really died because of this, then there was nothing he could do.
Because he had tried his absolute best to win.
Johnson Joffrey drove the speeding car on the roads of Cagliari, Medellín.
The road stretched endlessly, and the originally clear sky turned pale in his eyes, as if he were in a gray-white world, or perhaps walking inside the cavity of some beast.
The world became so small.
He began to have a splitting headache and started to slow the car down, but his heart was eager to get to the hospital.
He maintained his balance like walking a tightrope.
This time, he knew he couldn't be late again, otherwise Risotto and Melone would also die.
A dull sound struck above his head, like a huge firecracker, a drumming sound.
He began to feel cold, reminding him of a high fever he'd had as a child.
He began to recall some lonely past events.
Those past events had nothing to do with him; they were all memories belonging to "Johnson Joffrey," not him.
He began to fall into fragmented illusions.
On the outside, it was like he was running a high fever; something strange was enveloping him, making him unable to even lift his head or hands.
No, I need to hurry, hurry to the hospital.
I need to defeat Diavolo.
With this simple thought, he didn't even consider the idea of going to Kujo Jotaro, partly because even if he found him, Jotaro wouldn't be able to make it back in time.
The immense pressure from Illuso's death, his yearning for his own abilities, and his obsession with saving his friends made him unable to even breathe.
Various scenes kept appearing before his eyes—
He started from his birth memory, seeing a man with crimson eyes in the darkness, holding him, his eyes glowing with a faint red light as he looked at him.
"This child does not have Joestar blood."
He never saw that man again, and he seemed to have lived at the end of hell ever since.
The place where he grew up was a lonely valley, and the soul named Johnson Joffrey was still alive, deep in the endless hell, telling himself about his life as a son of a vampire in a demon's den.
Hell is not static; hell changes.
"Johnson, what's wrong with you?" Mista widened his eyes, looking at Johnson. "Why are you driving so slowly?"
I don't know, but someone is always whispering to me, telling me that the world he lives in is hell, and it's constantly changing, just like people always die, children always grow up, and everything is fleeting.
This is the changing hell; even the desires of the heart and the past that scourged him will pass.
"Johnson..."
Mista was always noisy, but Johnson ignored him.
Things happened too suddenly; one second he was doing what he should be doing, still trying to figure out how to deal with Diavolo, but the next second he entered some bizarre and wonderful world.
It was either a memory from Johnson Joffrey himself, or a memory from half of his own soul.
It dragged him into an endless abyss, a lonely valley.
He felt as if he was wrapped in an eggshell; he could see.
"Johnson..."
Mista is so noisy; I need to find Risotto now... He treats me like his own nephew; I can't let him die.
"Johnson!"
Mista, too noisy.
When you're injured, you should be quiet.
Johnson could no longer see the road ahead; he was completely swallowed by those bizarre images.
"Johnson, have you been attacked by a Stand?!" Mista shouted, disregarding his own wounds.
This sentence startled Johnson, and he awoke from that strange world again, narrowing his eyes at Mista.
Disturbed by the strange images, he struggled to focus and finally saw Mista clearly.
"Has Reversed Hierophant been attacked by a Stand?!"
Mista shouted, and then Johnson followed his gaze, looking towards the back seat of the car—
The Reversed Hierophant, which he had summoned at some point, was completely encased in a black, eggshell-like object...
What is this... Johnson Joffrey breathed with difficulty, feeling his soul leave his body, his body out of control, his vision flickering, dark and bright, a bit like the sleep paralysis he experienced as a child...
Mista watched all of this in shock, ignoring his injuries, and fired a shot at the black eggshell—
A scarlet eye was revealed.