"My Lord, fate guides us to reunite."
The woman, whose skin was the most popular light coffee color, wore a somewhat archaic long robe, knelt before Johnson with bent knees, and lightly kissed the back of his hand.
Fuika was considered tall among girls, nearly 1.8 meters, and had a very female fortune-teller's style, a product of multiple ethnicities.
Fortune-tellers could be said to be a unique existence in the JOJO Worldview, because their divinations were incredibly accurate and they possessed a high degree of professionalism, even to the point of speaking out what they divined even if it meant their death.
So, when Fuika's talent as a fortune-teller was discovered, she was immediately brought in.
Johnson ignored her and looked out the deep red velvet floor-to-ceiling window. The light from the ceiling was reflected in the swaying red wine glass. Johnson raised it and took a small sip.
Facts proved that Johnson had not misjudged her; Fuika was truly not a simple person, at least she could provide Johnson with a lot of information.
"You are completely different from when I last saw you, My Lord." Fuika sat opposite Johnson. The room's lighting was a little dim, and it was already starting to get dark.
"You came to me, have you prepared yourself?" Johnson said somewhat lazily after a long silence.
"Not only have I prepared myself, but I also came here to present you with two treasures and to tell you about my experiences in the past few months since we parted."
"I truly love you." Fuika's eyes, beautiful and as deep as the starry sky, which were the clear blue of the sky during the day, showed adoration.
The adoration in her words was completely different from a woman's true love, and also different from Trish's affection for Johnson; it was the reverence of a devotee for God, the same kind of feeling Enya had for DIO.
Oh, by the way, Johnson finally learned that Trish liked him, but this fact held no meaning for him. She was no longer the boss's daughter, though a little kindness towards her was acceptable.
For Johnson, the matters of his destiny, returning home, fulfilling the dreams of Risotto and his other loved ones in the Assassination Team, and having "PASSIONE" rule Italy, all these things far surpassed romantic love.
In contrast, Fuika's reverence and her display of it (meaning, useful to him) were much more beautiful than Trish's feelings.
"Too many people love me," Johnson replied expressionlessly, then gestured for his suit-clad subordinate beside him to leave.
"Then let me prove that I am completely different from all the others who love you." With that, Fuika took out a lacquered, rather Victorian-style, two-tiered box from beside her.
"Please forgive my impertinence, but I would like you to open it yourself. The password is your birthday."
Johnson raised an eyebrow, then entered his birthday on the box—
However, it wouldn't open.
Johnson frowned, and Fuika looked rather embarrassed.
Did my divination go wrong again?! She was a little surprised. Indeed, she absolutely should not casually divine about Lord Joffrey's matters. This was truly humiliating.
Johnson tilted his head, his half-closed scarlet eyes reflecting Fuika's image.
She quickly knelt down to apologize. Johnson didn't seem to mind, merely telling her to open the box.
"My Lord, I apologize. It seems I still haven't learned my lesson, to arrogantly divine about your affairs." Fuika wiped her forehead with her long sleeve, then personally opened the box.
The moment Johnson saw her open the box, his red pupils constricted, because the password Fuika entered was his true birthday from before he transmigrated.
What this woman divined was not about Johnson Joffrey, but about the new Johnson Joffrey, which was his soul as a transmigrator.
What a terrifying woman. If she were allowed to divine freely, could she even divine that he was a transmigrator?
"Please open it," Fuika said with a sweet smile.
Johnson took the box and slowly opened it—
This time, he was truly surprised, because inside the box lay a single… arrow.
A hint of surprise colored his scarlet eyes. Fuika couldn't help but feel a surge of joy at seeing such an astonished expression.
"Where did you get it?" Johnson asked naturally, as if he wasn't asking a question but confirming something.
"At the World's Peak, where I learned Ripple."
"Those lamas are indeed very powerful," Johnson said, looking as if he had known all along, and Fuika, of course, believed him implicitly.
Johnson hid his inner ecstasy. Just as he was about to say he needed to find an arrow, an arrow appeared.
"This arrow has always been kept in a living Buddha's jar."
"Sitting in a jar" is a Buddhist tradition, also known as attaining enlightenment and nirvana. It refers to a high monk, nearing death, being placed inside a jar. After a few years, or even a century, the jar is opened, and the monk's remains can transform into sarira.
And this arrow was inside the high monk's jar.
If that's the case, then this arrow is the one whose whereabouts were unknown.
No wonder it wasn't even mentioned in the original work; it turns out it was passed around until it reached a place of utter darkness.
If I hadn't met Fuika before, I probably would never have come across this arrow in my life. This really is fate.
Johnson took out the arrow—
The arrow, completely free of rust and glowing with a golden light, was quite dazzling. However, it didn't have a bug on it like the arrow, so it was pretty much like Polpo's.
"In my opinion," Fuika said, "there are gods in this world."
"Not God, not Buddha, and certainly not Allah, but a unique deity." Fuika stood up and slowly paced on the dark red velvet carpet.
This not-too-large reception room exuded a sense of luxury, with intricate light fixtures hanging from a ceiling painted with the story of Prometheus, and a decorative fireplace that would never light a fire, yet held a mysterious aura.
"The God of this world..." she said, her voice slightly hoarse. Coupled with her mysterious complexion, she continued, "I don't know what kind of existence it is..."
"But I have received its whisper."
Whisper?! Johnson's expression was nonchalant on the surface, as if to say, you can say whatever you want, but in reality, his heart was already in a state of considerable panic.
The whisper she spoke of couldn't possibly be... "Please open the second box."
...Johnson looked at the box, feeling that he had already found the answer—
"Are you talking about Heaven's Whisper?"
"As expected of you." She smiled, her teeth very healthy and white, making her look very young, and her eyes were full of admiration.
"I've managed to decipher a portion of the content..."
Johnson held out his hand, gesturing for her to be quiet. "I just want to know how you got it."