After seizing the Stand disc and memory disc, Fuuki found an abandoned military crate nearby. He roughly stuffed the rag-like Fudou Hayabusa inside, packing him away as an extra trophy.
Subsequently, at the end of the runway, he discovered Yuutenji Nyamu, severely injured and unconscious.
Although he already knew about this life-and-death struggle through Fudou Hayabusa's memory disc, witnessing the scene firsthand, Fuuki still secretly marveled at the astonishing explosive power and fighting will the girl displayed.
Yuutenji Nyamu's Stand, Freely Tomorrow, possessed excellent overall performance. It was like a tailor-made growth system: guiding her, unearthing her potential, and providing targeted questlines. Even if she lost consciousness, it would autonomously protect her.
Although the entire process deliberately applied pressure, forcing her to make choices and act, it always remained within a controllable range.
"If I could more broadly develop this ability... the possibility of mass-producing reliable subordinates exists!" This thought flashed through Fuuki's mind.
But he did not act hastily. His intuition warned him that if he approached this dying girl with ill intent, that powerful Stand would instantly appear, becoming a thorny obstacle.
Fuuki slowly approached the unconscious Nyamu. He activated White Snake, indirectly controlling Lightning Rider, precisely staunching her wounds.
After confirming that the data-stream-composed Stand had judged him as a friendly unit, he assigned the task of moving the wooden crate to White Snake. He then carried the still unconscious Mutsumi in one arm and Nyamu in the other, swiftly evacuating the runway.
"Are you sure you don't want to take her Disc here? It's a rare opportunity."
White Snake, having been suppressed for a long time, was able to briefly manifest completely due to the vitality brought by its beastification, and its talkative nature also returned.
For Fuuki, beastification was more beneficial than harmful—his vitality and mental energy were significantly replenished, and while his thoughts and actions leaned towards "snake," it was largely controllable; he just needed to be wary of complete submersion.
Facing White Snake's question, Fuuki replied, "There's more than one way to gain assistance than just forceful seizure."
He paused, a self-mocking curve flashing across his lips, "Establishing a mental connection, like with Mutsumi and Uika, yields far better results than rigid control."
This choice itself was somewhat ironic for him, a person who had always prioritized efficiency and reliability.
Of course, "optimal" does not equate to "foolproof."
Mutsumi's Stand disc was given by him, Uika's ability was personally brought out by him, and deep within both of their spirits, there remained subtle "scratches" from White Snake—necessary insurance.
As for Takagi Naoko, her soul was even branded with a "scar." That voice originating from "Fuuki" would become an eternal ghost in her mind, unless her spirit grew significantly and she bridged this chasm.
This technique originated from the inspiration he had while creating the command disc—segmenting and inscribing parts of his own "will" into the target's memory and Stand disc.
Finally, Fuuki found a low-chassis, military-green transport truck outside the repair shop. After a simple disguise using Illusion, he drove away from the wilderness, not forgetting to take the almost scrapped yellow electric scooter with him.
============
Although his main body was beyond recovery, the lingering influence of Japari Park had not dissipated. Fuuki made several detours before returning to the Togawa Residence.
One good news, one bad news.
The good news was Togawa Sakiko: her beastification had largely receded. When Fuuki entered her room without knocking, she was annoyed because she was stuck on the chandelier and couldn't get down, but her spirits were surprisingly good, even having enough energy to hiss a warning at her intruding brother.
"Come down first, Sakiko. No matter how good the chandelier's quality, it can't support you," Fuuki said calmly.
"Huh?"
"Need help?"
"No!"
"Understood."
Receiving clear instructions, Fuuki, holding the still unconscious Mutsumi in his arms, turned and left, leaving Sakiko, who had just come to her senses on the chandelier, and the hurried maids outside the door looking at each other in dismay.
The bad news was Wakaba Mutsumi.
During the sudden attack by "beastified" soldiers at the water supply hub, Fuuki was unable to completely avoid the hail of bullets. Blood stained his arms, thighs... and chest.
The blood on his chest wasn't his.
It belonged to the little green cat that reacted faster than him—Wakaba Mutsumi, who leaped into his arms, blocking the bullet aimed at his heart for him.
After escaping, the warm liquid in his arms flowed silently, and a rare unease stirred in Fuuki's heart. He could no longer recall his feelings when he saw the gruesome bullet hole on her pale green body—neither anger nor sorrow, neither blame nor guilt, yet heavier than any known negative emotion.
At that moment, what drove his actions was cold rationality.
Fuuki decisively poured the golden liquid he had previously collected from the "Beast Refining Pool" onto the wound, actively entering the "beastification" state.
Lurking, strategizing, luring the enemy, slaughtering... decapitating, seizing the spoils of victory.
However, even after returning to human form, Wakaba Mutsumi remained unconscious.
Fuuki gently placed his hand on the girl's fair forehead, taking out the Stand disc he had personally bestowed upon her—the key that had dragged her into a dangerous world. Then, without the slightest hesitation, he gently pushed the Disc, imprinted with an orange cat, back beneath her pale green hair... After settling the sleeping girl, Fuuki returned to the basement.
The three guns Wakaba Mutsumi had crafted for him lay silently on the workbench, awaiting their next summons.
Fuuki roughly slammed the military crate onto the ground, summoned White Snake, and firmly bound the husk from the crate to the inverted crucifix in the center of the room—a torture device he had designed out of interest long ago.
For a shell that had lost its Memory and Stand, any interrogation would be futile, and Fuuki was not venting his anger at an empty shell.
He only wanted to verify a question that had long lingered in his mind:
'Is predetermined fate truly so unshakeable?'
The cold blade sliced across the husk's wrists, letting the blood trickle down. Fuuki pulled up a chair and sat down, his gaze like a torch, staring intently at the figure on the crucifix.
After a moment, he remembered something, pulled out his phone, and quickly exchanged information with Uika.
Hanging up the phone, silence descended once more. He gazed at Fudou Hayabusa's body, which was gradually losing its last trace of life, waiting.
Waiting for an outcome that was both natural and yet contrary to the predetermined future—
Death.
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