The final punch landed on his abdomen, tearing straight through it, and Diavolo's body was completely twisted—
He fell heavily from the sky, crashing onto the soft sand, the very spot where he had taken photos of Trish's mother years ago—
His entire body was contorted; not a single bone was unbroken, and there wasn't a patch of good flesh on him. He looked as if he had been pulled out of a meat grinder, his lower body now connected only by the colorful viscera of his intestines.
He was covered in blood, and his face was disfigured—
Johnson Joffrey stood not far away, looking at his shattered body, tilting his head as he said expressionlessly—
"Although it would be simple to completely erase the energy from your body and make you vanish from this world, my anger would not be appeased if I didn't beat you to this state."
"You said that when you were pushed to a dead end, fighting back would make you feel happy. Now, looking at you, I have beaten you to an inch of your life..."
"But I can't smile at all, because my friends, and those you killed, will never come back, even if you die."
The pain had rendered Diavolo unable to react. He gradually lost consciousness, death having completely enveloped him.
"Fate clearly chose me..." His teeth were all knocked out, and his mouth was full of blood, but he still said unwillingly, "I could have obtained... eternal life... eternal life!"
Johnson Joffrey looked down at him, noticing he still held a glimmer of hope—
"You still don't understand? Then I'll make sure you die knowing exactly why." Johnson Joffrey said, "The Heaven's Whisper you saw was written by me."
I don't even know if I wrote it, but I'll claim it first. Johnson Joffrey wasn't a fool; he probably guessed that Diavolo had learned of his fate in the original story—
"..."
"...What did you say?!" One of Diavolo's eyes was blind, but he still turned his head to look at him.
"I wrote it. How you killed your adoptive father, how you stuffed your mother into the floorboards, how you dug up six arrows from Egypt..."
"I saw it all clearly..."
Diavolo's eyes were bloodshot with fury as he stared at Johnson Joffrey—
The sun began to set in the west, and a golden hue appeared on the sea. Johnson Joffrey and his Reversed Hierophant stood with their backs to the setting sun, silhouetted against the light. A golden sun rested above his head, his golden hair fluttering in the wind. Behind him was a golden tableau painted by the sunset. His face was obscured by shadow, only his crimson eyes visible, gazing at him calmly, even with a hint of pity—
[Diavolo, you must understand, no matter what wicked deeds people commit, God watches over us. God is omniscient and omnipotent.]
Diavolo could no longer hear, but the words of his adoptive father, whom he had always considered cowardly and timid, echoed in his ears—
"Are you... the one... who has always been watching me...?"
Diavolo mumbled fragmented, broken words, but Johnson didn't hear clearly—
Suddenly!!
He erupted as if in a final burst of energy, sitting up with only his upper body remaining!
"I, Diavolo! I have been a devil my entire life! I will definitely oppose God!!" He roared from his very soul—
"King Crimson!!! Let time..."
He struggled to prop up his upper body, but only got halfway through his command to King Crimson, because he saw a group of people's feet—
He looked up and saw Risotto looking down at him, his red eyes seeing his own blood-soaked body—
"Ri... Risu..."
"Ah," Risotto looked at him expressionlessly, then calmly replied, "It's me."
"I've returned from hell."
His eyes widened—
"He's still alive. I suggest we heal him up and beat him again," Formaggio raised an eyebrow.
Bucciarati's Team and Risotto's Assassination Team members were all in front of him, staring at him like hungry wolves—