Capitolo Primo: Giovinezza (3)

When George announced that today we were all going for a brief trip in central London, I felt incredibly nervous and confused over the sudden decision.

While I could understand the need of someone of his standing having to visit regularly the capital for whatever tasks would require his own presence, I was quite perplexed by the necessity of having both me and JoJo to join him in this endeavor.

I could see why Jonathan needed to go as he was his heir, but I was a completely unimportant element for any instances requiring the Joestar Family out of their home as I didn’t truly matter in the big chessboard of nobility.

But maybe I was looking at this predicament from a far too cynical and logical scheme, ignoring that JoJo’s father was also a parent with a hint of friendliness to everyone that was little and innocent, just like ‘I was’. Even if I was close to achieve fourteen years old.

Albeit awkward, I wouldn’t deny this kind of reasoning as it was the closest to give me a proper insight upon this situation I was forced to deal with.

Donning my ‘good clothes’ and a little hat that the man had decided to gift me earlier that day, we were all quick to enter the carriage set to reach London, Jonathan and I picking one of the sides while his father was seated in front of us.

Once again my nose was greeted with the pungent scent of mud, musk and the humidity created by the last few days of rain, giving me a sense of annoyance over the state of transports for this time period.

Cars technically existed, but these were mostly prototypes and, while I would lose myself over whom was the true inventor of the modern vehicle, I was certainly sure that it would take at best another decade or two to see a functioning car around in England.

So there wasn’t any hope to avoid the unpleasant sensations of these necessary trips, finding this development to be as saddening as interesting.

My mind was quick to consider ‘doing something about it’, but then again I didn’t have the ‘means’ to just convince people I just ‘stumbled over those theories’.

Yes, theories. The construction of a proper car needed some basis over the engine, the chassis, the handling and other minor elements that would take me too long to describe, each needing various formulas to make intellectuals understand where I was going with it.

And while I was unquestionably Dio, I wasn’t a glorified Wikipedia with a solution to everything and I was also lacked of the proper charisma to ‘hypnotize’ my public without getting some unneeded questions from them.

This little pondering added with the greater conversation I entertained in my mind, trying to give the least interactions with both JoJo and George as to not show how much irked I was of my current predicament.

It was the Spin that got me from not going insane in this very unique situation, my mind granting me the silence of thought to start and consider what I could do with this new ability.

Not much with what I currently knew about the world around me, maybe the trip could offer the opportunity to have me wandering in one of the various libraries in the city and see if I could recover some books about humans’ and animals’ anatomy, at least a base version to get me started over the full potential of the Spin.

It wouldn’t be wrong to say that the original purpose of the skill was to maim people, the first users being war-knights from medieval ages, but it would be a massive misunderstanding to limit its real prowess to just aggressive attacking.

Gregorio Zeppeli had been the prime example of medic capable of using medicine in conjunction with the Spin as a mean to guarantee a peaceful demise for the death row prisoners that needed to be executed.

A brutal usage of the energy, but that didn’t certainly denied the possibility of using it actually to heal people.

It was a crude consideration with the lack of proper study from my part; a mere theory born from curiosity and ingenuity from the first approach at the unique skill, but given time and some effort over it, I was sure going to get around the means to use the energy created by the Spin for such important topics.

Yet the Spin wasn’t my only priority. Hamon was still something I needed to somehow gain control of, the capacity offered by the ‘original’ ability would grant me the opportunity to not only heal myself and others, but also boost my overall physical capacities.

That is ignoring the already beneficial increase of my lifespan if I continued to train rigorously with the Ripple.

Still, without proper instructions, the only thing I could achieve right now is a control over my breath, over my lungs, and I would require a teacher to give me the proper means to achieve the rest of the requirements to unlock the real deal.

But how was I supposed to find a teacher here in England? Tompetty and his apprentices were still in India as of now and… they would only come here if a report of the Stone Mask was ever to reach them.

An incredible dilemma that was sadly and abruptly interrupted in that very moment while I was lost in my thoughts.

“Dio,” George spoke with a curious tone, his blue eyes were displaying little intrigue over my lack of reaction to the discussion he had been enjoying with his son, even JoJo looking interested at me. “Is there something that worries you?”

That was a pretty direct question coming from him, incredibly blunt and enough to garner a surprised look by orange eyes.

“I was just thinking about London,” I said, shuffling nervously as I tried my best to shift my ‘nervousness’ over to the first time in the city. I couldn’t certainly deny my uneasiness, thus I merely ‘turned it’ in some ‘childish excitement’. “I’ve never visited the central districts.”

“Truly? Your father never-”

“J-Jojo!” The older Joestar chided with a light stutter, seemingly stunned by his son’s blunt attempt to inquire over the matter. “You know better than bringing up this kind of subjects!”

There was a brief moment of silence, a wide-eyed Jonathan looking mortified and embarrassed by this restrained outburst, then he stared at his feet and blinked with a saddened look in his eyes.

“It’s alright,” I stated with a calm but not completely unfazed tone. “I think I can stomach hearing about my father. I shouldn’t be tied down to the past and stop because of a… mentioning.”

I couldn’t certainly look disinterested by the memory of Dario Brando, despite the ‘deserved’ demise of the man, everyone still knew that it had been an illness that took the ‘good fellow’ out of his misery.

I nodded, gaining a surprised but worried look from George, the man ultimately sighing before I continued.

“The reason why I never visited was because I spent most of the time nearby home while father was out working,” I decided to answer with a slightly more normal tone, still hinting at some uneasiness at discussing about this with my careful voice. “At first it was to help mother, then when she… passed away, I had to take on the various chores while father wasn’t there.”

“If I remember correctly, there was a time when… your father wasn’t capable of working before he passed away,” George threaded carefully with this specific query. “I hope the good man had saved some money to help you while he was stuck in bed.”

I actually blinked at that, not because I was trying to imagine the ugly mug of that bastard as he lied on his deathbed, but because I thought about a very curious question about it.

If Dario had been spending most of the money in booze, how did Dio secure enough coin to buy some poison from Wang Chan when-

I blinked again, actually forcing myself to appear relaxed as I leaned back on the stiff pillow of the carriage. “Father had some money saved up. It was enough to keep up even after his passing.”

There was in fact some money within the baggage that I had when I woke up a week ago, just enough to keep me fed for three days of small eating, but it was still considerable considering the heavy-spending in alcohol imposed by the now-deceased Dario Brando.

But still not enough to mention the buying of some poison from the Asian shop-keeper.

I had a theory and, while the two Joestars accepted the end of such conversation in an awkward tone, I deemed it fit to contemplate in that very moment about this very peculiarity.

The poison hadn’t been bought by coin or favors, no… it had been sympathy.

I had forgotten until now that Wang Chan didn’t follow Dio out of awe or for the boy’s charisma, but rather the similarity to a ‘horrible man’ he had met back in China.

Someone that lived a harsh life, but managed up until 183 years of existence.

A malicious individual, I certainly needed to find where the fool kept his little lair, where he was keeping his more important objects and hopefully kill him before he could poise a problem for my plans.

I wasn’t certainly letting someone as slimy as the man avoid some proper ‘justice’, or better- some proper ‘retribution’ for his own evil nature.

Pondering over this subject also brought up some interesting concepts I had ignored up until now, the most important being the fact I should technically be able to enter Ogre Street.

Albeit it’s been a week since I’ve moved in with the Joestars, however Dio managed to be considered worth of no issues in that distraught piece of the capital, I should still be able to have a ‘safe’ access to it.

I just needed time and some more trust from George before trying to give it a lone exploration.

After spending so much time alone with my own thoughts, I was granted some relief in the form of the carriage coming to a halt and… we were here.

The old Joestar was the first one to leave, leading both me and JoJo out to see the less-advanced version of…

I blinked as I took a moment to admire the familiar building visible from the distance, realizing that we were in Westminster, precisely on the road of Whitehall.

Having studied intensively the English Parliament back home, I was familiar with the general area of Central London, but to be this close to the place where the main branch of the government was set, I couldn’t help but partially muse over the politicians currently sitting there.

It was 1881, so it had to be… the second Gladstone cabinet’s era.

Very interesting, this was the first time I pondered over the politics of where I was since I came here.

Why is it important? Well, let’s just say that what ensued from leaving the carriage could be considered as connection to the national government as George’s destination was the Colonial Office.

It was odd as a place to for him to visit as I was fairly sure that the Joestar family didn’t have any major ranks attached to politics, only with trade, but then I connected this to the fact that the British Empire’s trade was regulated by that specific branch of the government and… I wasn’t allowed to visit its insides.

Jojo’s father was keen to point out that the place was meant for ‘children’ and that his duty required him and only him, thus bringing anyone else would bring no little issue over the formal request he had planned to get through with.

Something about South Africa, the various colonies with base at Cape Town still far from being a sole entity in the rising years of the British’s colonial empire.

But that didn’t matter much for me right now, especially since I was deprived of the chance of seeing some of the historical figures working in this major building and… it wasn’t only about the Colonial Office.

This headquarters was also the site where India Office, the Home Office and the Foreign Office have been all instated, so that made the place even more an endearing place to visit and look around in.

Sadly, this opportunity was killed before it could have been requested to the man, thus leaving both me and JoJo to stay by the carriage while he went to deal with this arduous bureaucratic mess for his next work.

We were allowed to stay outside of the vehicle, but we were bluntly ordered to not wander away from the proximity of the carriage itself.

A little annoying, but considering the state of London right now, I wasn’t going to mind to wait for a better opportunity to buy some books.

Considering the fact he had brought JoJo for the occasion even though he wasn’t meant to be there with him, that didn’t exactly mean George hadn’t planned to do something else for the both of us.

Not only to make it worth for Jonathan, but to also see what kind of objects I could seriously take into consideration as ‘gifts’.

But while I was keen to keep myself from breaking the simple but terribly-limiting rules, my dark-haired and naive peer was completely irritated by the waiting time that was meant to pass for his father to return.

Even though he was a nobleman, George wasn’t someone with a connection with politics and it was correct to say that he wouldn’t be returning any moment before two to three hours from that instance.

Which then sparked even more boredom-induced annoyance from the young Joestar, causing me to start to regret having directly refused to join this slow torture.

I was fine with the waiting, that was something I had already said more than enough, but Glorious Heavens I was starting to regret the whining coming from Jonathan.

It was an unpleasant puppy-like whining that persisted even when the boy decided to retreat back inside the carriage, deciding to try and rest considering the long time needed to see his father return, and leaving me alone outside to… do nothing in particular.

Actually part of me had wanted to enter inside the carriage too, maybe defusing JoJo’s irritating comments by presenting him with some simple game like Rock, Paper and Scissors, maybe something else and… I stopped when I heard a loud noise coming from my proximity.

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It was a loud thud, something muffled by a door, this one left half-open and… I glanced momentarily up to the banner above the entrance.

‘Oriental Mysteries and Tomes’

I blinked confusedly at the words, confused by the fact something like this… shop existed in this important part of the city.

Since when the government allowed this kind of situations to exist, especially with how harsh some of the rules currently were with non-British people?

I finally looked inside and… I froze when I saw quite the big knife resting onto the wooden counter of the shop, the owner of such blade engaging in a furious spiel directed at the calm shop-keeper looking at him.

The owner of this establishment had a tanned skin, a few wrinkles on his face and… he looked incredibly familiar with his exotic clothes.

In fact, it looked like someone… I knew about from the series.

Still, despite the curious development, I didn’t certainly try to step inside the building that was the current scene of a robbery.

Keeping myself close to the carriage as I looked at the unfolding of the situation from afar, while also thinking about trying to find any police officer nearby.

Sadly, this very thought was dashed when I looked around and there were just too many people by the Whitehall headquarters for the guards standing there to notice the situation that was happening just nearby.

The nervousness of the robber seemed to turn into anger, the partially-visible face of the younger man sporting some furious red as he started to raise his voice with the shop-owner, the Indian man seemingly unfazed by this outburst and… proceeded to display quite the unexpected conclusion to this sight.

The foreigner lifted his hand over the knife’s hilt with shocking speed, touching it with the his index fingertip and… I could see the tip glowing.

It was faint, but the effect was so surreal that it was a clear explanation of the subsequent blade being flung so suddenly away from the counter and away from sight, deeper in the shop.

Leaving the robber defenseless to deal with the stronger-looking man in front of him, the British man paling at the scene as his anger was replaced by shock and fear.

No more words were muttered, the criminal turned tail and rushed outside from the shop, barely noticing my presence outside as he ran the fastest his legs could allow him too and… leaving me to face quite the odd aftermath.

Once the robber had left my proximity and my sight, I slowly returned to stare at the shop-keeper and… the owner was looking back at me with a calm expression.

I felt a shivers, maybe two, going down my spine as I returned the glance with a surprised and perplexed look, feeling almost compelled to take steps inside the shop, mesmerized by the very possible solution to my current main issues.

The energy he used, the yellow-like glow, it had to be it. It had to be Hamon.

I gulped nervously, despite my best efforts to keep calm while entering inside the building, my own mind had little means to defend against the piercing look displayed by the Indian man, my orange eyes fixed on his own orbs and… I stopped by the counter.

“Do you wish to buy something?” The deep voice coming from the owner asked, getting me out from that hypnotic step and back to reality.

I didn’t reply at his question at first, frowning at him with a suspicious look.

“What did you use to… move that knife?” I asked carefully, trying my best to keep my queries curt and cautious enough to-

“My fingers.”

The reply partially stunned me on the spot, my eyes widening as I felt tricked by the stone-looking expression on his face.

“That… glow was only your fingers?”

“Yes,” He commented quietly. “Do you have any other questions?”

He was testing me. There was no way in Unholy Hell that this wasn’t just a test to gauge my interest with the way he was ‘joking around the matter’, maybe to evaluate what kind of moral code I was abiding before reacting.

But what was the solution of such general exam? What kind of answers was he seeking from me?

I blinked, looking up again from my thoughts and back to him. “What if I have an ability similar to yours?”

It was mostly a lie, but I didn’t need to make it look like I had Hamon, only that I had my own ‘special’ skill to display.

Curiosity glinted from his eyes, but he didn’t reply at this, letting some moments of quiet passing before I decided that words were no longer needed.

Slowly I pulled a small steel sphere I had recovered earlier that day from another pen in my room, a mean to use the Spin in case of self-defense or… to display such an ability to this man.

At this point, there was no doubt about it, my certainty to display this little secret born out from more than a mere suspicion, I was in fact looking at someone that closely resembled Tonpetty, the Tibetan Monk that was teaching Zeppeli, Straizo and Dire.

Another Hamon-user monk? Considering the decades-old close contacts the British Empire had with Tibet, I wouldn’t be surprised if one or more monks had decided to leave their country to search more disciples.

Without wasting too much time over my thoughts, I finally started to spin the little sphere and, after just a minute or two, the energy was indeed forming around the little steel object, this time my attention mostly directed at the phenomenon to not cause any unnecessary explosive reaction at this demonstration.

Much to my delight, I managed to subdue the spinning quickly enough to avoid any dangerous escalations, ready to see his surprise at such situation and-

I blinked at the hand the Indian man was holding up, the open palm was tense as yellow electricity seemed to be coursing around his fingertips, a certain mysterious golden aura coating the entire hand.

“It’s not the Ripple,” He mused loudly enough for me to hear, his thoughts dripping out as he noticed my staring. “What’s the name of that technique, young man?”

His voice displayed some intrigue, enough to get me stunned by the unexpected voice before I finally delivered a quick answer.

“I-It’s called the Spin,” I replied half-surprised. “I-I learned about this from a tome my father brought from his f-family in Italy.”

A half-lie, something mixed between the lie of the Spin being a Brando’s family secret but also honest when saying it was from Italy.

If the man had been convinced or not, he didn’t give any sign of it as he was already going forward with his inquiry.

“And you wish to learn about my own technique, the Ripple,” He mentioned with an interested look on his face. “Even though you have this ‘Spin’?”

I blinked, I could see the ambush he was lying here for me, yet I was already prepared to deal with this.

“I-It’s ineffective, it requires a sphere and the time and precision needed to finalize even the basic use is-”

“The Ripple is dangerous if the user isn’t capable of keeping up with the training regiment for the rest of his life,” The foreigner quickly interjected. “You ask from me to give trust, yet I can see resemblances of multiple masks, each with familiar yet different names.”

I tensed up at this final comment, terrified by the possibility that, somehow, the Ripple was capable of reading thoughts away from the man’s physical reach.

It was nigh-impossible to believe such a feat, yet… I was also aware that Caesar did use the Hamon to manipulate a living being to attack Joseph, so maybe it wasn’t truly far-fetched as an idea.

Then… was he aware of my circumstances? Not yet, or at least not at the fullest from the lack of shock considering my unique predicament.

But what was I supposed to do from this point? If he knew even a sliver of what I was made of, what I planned to do, then what hope did I have to actually leave that discussion with a satisfactory result?

…

No.

I sighed, my eyes and face steeling altogether before the intrigued man and I prepared myself for what I had to do.

“I wish to conquer the Heavens, to become one with divinity,” I proclaimed with a serious voice, my soul rocking in chorus with my determination. “For I believe myself the harbinger of true peace and justice in this world.”

There was silence, the shop-keeper looked uncaring at my words.

“I don’t care at this point if you will accept my genuine offer of friendship or not,” I continued without hesitation. “But if you wish to waste my time by playing the fool, then do so without me in your proximity.”

ゴ

ゴ

ゴ

ゴ

More silence, yet this time the man leaned on the counter and… smiled.

“This… was an honest reply,” He judged with a nod, seemingly pleased by the development while he ignored my irritated expression now deepening even more. “Despite the immense task you are trying to burden yourself with, I fail to see any malicious intent, nor I see… any outstanding good in you.”

What was he talking about?

I was half-tempted to speak out once again about this maddening cryptic tone, yet he beat me by speaking once again.

“You wish to bring novelty, to bring prosperity but it’s not out of good from your heart, nor greed or any important driving force that got many great men and women to go through their obstacles,” He commented with a growing sense of elation. “You- You have a certain light within you, something that is not at the service of good nor you are succumbing to evil.”

He paused again, this time his eyes narrowing intensively at me.

“What are you, Dio Brando?”

ゴ

ゴ

ゴ

ゴ

I should have tensed, I should have submitted at the pressure, far greater than anything I’ve ever felt… but my body didn’t bent nor broke before it.

I felt standing strong, I felt my heart drumming right onto my ears as I continued to return the stare with the same intensity.

Was this the determination that made the Joestar family so strong against the adversities, was this what is driving me right now?

For I, Dio, was finding an excellent fire within this to spark my unwavering strength and willpower!

“I am the one that will bring true change to this world,” I affirmed with undeniable might in my words, giving emphasis to each syllables and enforcing my will onto my voice. “I am Dio.”

The silent staring returned for some more moments, the man staring mirthfully at me as his lips twitched upwards while increasing the wide of his current smile.

“You… you are indeed Dio, young man,” He admitted without hesitation, almost relieved by this. Before he could continued, his left hand wandered down below his side of the counter and… then brought up a large book.

It was old, there were strings of leather keeping it shut close and… I couldn’t help but stare at the curious inner warmth born from merely staring at this tome.

It was a nice kind of warmth, it was one that promised me hopes of success and… self-realization.

“You will do as my new apprentice, Dio Brando,” The shop-keeper announced with a calm tone. “Your mission of peace and justice… shall make my efforts spent teaching you worth if not more.”

I approached the book, the man now offering it with a certain urgency and I took it quickly in my palms.

It was heavy, quite the burden for my young arms but I was still well-capable of holding it close to my chest.

“There will be numerous obstacles, as many as possible to make the final reward as just as possible for you and I will watch over your growth from now on,” He stated resolutely. “Continue down this road, young man, I wish to see you succeed in this great road to a brighter world.”

I felt… endeared by the positive words, making me nod back at the man as I found myself smiling at this.

“I- I will do this, I will achieve the ultimate success!”

A final smile appeared on his face, the man already gesturing me to leave the shop as I turned around and reached back to the entrance.

I stopped for a moment, my head turning to look at him one last time.

“What is your name, teacher?” I asked quietly, feeling a little drained from this bizarre encounter. “How should I refer you as?”

The smile slightly faded and he sighed. “My name, young man, is… Muddiburi.”

I nodded as the door closed behind me, my head spinning right back to the carriage as I slowly made my way inside and… entered it, glad to find a sleeping Jonathan as my first sight inside.

With a soft hum building up, I slowly placed the tome behind the little back-pillow that I had to use for the way of return from this trip, hopefully going to happen quite quickly once JoJo was done with buying his own stuff.

Staring at the sleeping JoJo, I couldn’t help but let myself rest for a while, knowing that it would take some more time to see George return to the carriage.

And for some reason, my dreams were ruled by a dominant factor. It was a sphere spinning so quickly and brightly, but… it was immaterial and it was… heavenly to look at.

But while Dio was convinced that this day had been turned memorable by this encounter, Fate had long set the first few obstacles before his journey, some familiar… others not.

Sometimes your worst enemy is the one stuck at your same class.

-To be continued…