With a familiarity, Giorno changed Mista’s broken internal organs.

Misda survived successfully.

This dying person who was bleeding from the seven orifices a minute ago was now jumping up from the ground.

“Give dead things life and hope.”

"Even the ability of a stand-in is very different from that man's evil."

Jotaro, who was standing by, felt more and more moved.

Of course, he did not rush to inquire about Giorno's identity and background, nor did he feel prejudiced and held on to it.

After all, bloodline cannot determine a person.

Since you can be sure that Giorno's spirit shines like gold, why bother with his origin?

Jotaro will leave Giorno's father behind for the time being.

Giorno, on the other hand, was sturdy and began to drive the golden experience to perform skin grafting surgery on the traumatized self.

The charred and dead skin was torn off alive, and the new flesh and blood quickly filled the wound under the shadow of the fist.

The process is of course extremely painful.

But Giorno was able to withstand such severe pain while chatting with Jotaro beside him in cold sweat:

"Mr. Jotaro."

"When you came, did you find traces of a middle-aged man with pink hair?"

This is Giorno's most concerned issue.

Diapolo had just been poisoned, and the Hokujo Jotaro, who he was most worried about, was already on the scene.

There is no doubt that now is the best time to kill Diapolo and solve the problem once and for all.

"Mid-aged man with pink hair"

But Jotaro gave a disappointing answer:

"I did meet outside the Colosseum."

"It's a pity that I couldn't stop the man from escaping."

He was too worried about Porunarev's safety just now, so after Diapolo disappeared, he did not think about tracking it, but walked into the Colosseum as soon as possible to check the situation.

In this way, Diapolo has plenty of time to escape.

"Is that true"

Giorno frowned:

This is obviously very bad news.

Diapolo is no simple opponent.

The Scarlet King's abilities are elusive, and he himself is as cautious as a poisonous snake, secretly and deadly.

If he just lets him run away like this, there will be endless troubles.

But now Diapolo has disappeared, and Giorno is of no use to worry about it:

"No way"

"It's been several minutes since time passed, and Diapolo might have run away long ago."

"He is cautious by nature. If he is given enough time to prepare, it may be useless to let Apaki's melancholy blues take action."

"In this way, if we want to find Diapolo's whereabouts, we can only find another way."

Giorno muttered to himself, his expression very solemnly.

The golden experience is slowly replacing the burnt skin on his body. The shocking scene of blood and shocking make the current atmosphere look heavy.

"Feel sorry."

There was a rare feeling of guilt in Jotaro's voice.

Of course, this guilt was not because of Giorno who had just met for a while, but because of Porunarev.

Jotaro regretted that he had not noticed Porunarev's situation earlier, and regretted that he had not been able to keep the demon who had hurt Porunarev so far.

Now that Diapolo has disappeared, he doesn't know when he will avenge his best friend.

When he thought of this, Jotaro's clenched fists were trembling slightly:

"It doesn't matter, Jotaro."

Porunarev once again spoke such a consolation.

He keenly realized that after seeing his tragic situation of breaking his hands and feet with his own eyes, Jotaro fell into a state of depression that was difficult to relieve.

This is not what Porunarev wants to see.

This is not what Sorajo Yotaro, this never-wave-moving man should look like.

"There is no need to blame myself for what happened to me."

"I am a warrior, and my legs can't affect my will."

Porunarev tried hard to look free and easy.

But, it's a pity

Even if Porunarev tried his best to be the never-disappointed optimist and the cheerful comedian of the past, he could never play that feeling again.

After all, ten years have passed.

Only he himself knows how Porunarev lived in these ten years.

The lost legs and feet can never be retrieved, and the pain in the past decade is also indelible.

Now he is no longer the young swordsman who can show off his gorgeous sword skills in battle, nor is he the Lotte young man who is still thinking about "underwear" and jokes.

Porunarev has become a mature and steady middle-aged uncle in a heart-wrenching way.

""

Jotaro didn't say anything more to blame himself.

But the atmosphere on the scene became more and more deadly in silence.

The two looked at each other quietly, their eyes filled with indescribable complex emotions.

"that"

Once again, Giorno interjected with the words “not the time”.

He had already completed the emergency treatment of himself with difficulty, and the hideous wounds on his body disappeared.

Although the huge mental energy consumption made him almost weak, with the support of a healthy body, Giorno's pale face gradually returned to rosy.

"Mr. Jotaro."

Giorno sat on the ground, breathing slowly to recover his strength:

"If possible, please bring Mr. Porunarev to me, too."

"Um?"

Jotaro's body trembled.

He heard something from Giorno's words: "Is it possible that Porunarev's injury?"

"I can cure."

Giorno nodded solemnly.

"Old, old wounds are OK?"

Porunarev's voice suddenly stuttered.

Obviously, he didn't care as much as he said just now about these lost legs.

"It's OK."

Giorno smiled softly.

That smile is as warm as the sun that can revive everything:

"As long as the head is still there, there is no problem where you lack it."

Outside the Colosseum.

Under the manhole cover, in the sewage.

A pair of sharp eyes suddenly opened from the darkness.

"Cough cough cough cough cough cough"

Diapolo woke up from a brief coma and spat out a mouthful of thick oily red sauce:

"It hurts so much."
To be continued...