14 A Rose Dedicated to Dio (14)

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When night fell and everyone was asleep, Mumuye spoke to the system: “Tong’er, bring me some sedative, the kind that produces smoke.” The system immediately became alert: “What do you intend to do?” The little weakling replied naturally, “I’m going to knock Dio out.” He explained his plan to the system.

The system was conflicted: “If you do this, how will you marry Dio in the future? If he holds a grudge against you, our mission will fail.” Mumuye opened his mouth and said, “No way. We still have plenty of time to reconcile. Besides, I’m his father’s appointed fiancée — isn’t that practically being married? It’s just a piece of paper; there will definitely be other ways. We must make the villain recognize who’s in charge now, or I’ll be tormented by him for life.”

Thinking of Dio’s strength and methods, the system suddenly found the little weakling’s plan quite reasonable. If they didn’t create some childhood trauma for Dio now, making him easier to handle later, would they wait to compete for dominance in the future? Back then, it wouldn’t be easy for Dio to take Mumuye seriously.

Mumuye curled his lips and continued, “Besides… have you forgotten my role in this world? I remember it very clearly.” The system’s AI database kept records; how could it forget? Yet it never expected that the little weakling would be so enterprising, which truly amazed it.

Mumuye moved slowly. At night, everyone was deeply asleep; the world was silent, even the faintest sound could be heard. Occasionally, the hoot of an owl stepping on a branch broke the stillness. The moonlight over the town was clear and pale, shining through stained glass and turning into various exaggerated colors. Looking up, one could still faintly see twinkling stars.

Mumuye’s strength was limited; dragging Dio out, he had to rest frequently. Passing by Danny’s doghouse, the sharp little dog was awakened but confused by Mumuye’s seemingly playful behavior. After a yawn, it lay back down to sleep.

Nearby, Mumuye found an abandoned wooden cabin. After opening the door and dispersing the dust inside, he entered and placed Dio on the bed. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he rested his chin on his hand, looking at Dio twice before succumbing to sleep.

When Dio finally shook off the sedative and woke up, he sensed something was wrong. He couldn’t move at all. Thick, coarse ropes tightly bound his hands and feet, though the binding wasn’t done diligently enough to be very secure. Yet, the more he struggled, the tighter the ropes became.

His chest felt heavy. Lowering his gaze, he saw the dark-haired Eastern child lying on his chest, his cheeks squished, body curled up from the cold, looking utterly dependent. If it weren’t for one person able to move freely while the other was securely bound, Dio might have been fooled by Mumuye’s fragile and adorable appearance.

Dio glanced around and saw they were inside a cramped, dilapidated wooden cabin. There was a rack for hunting rifles and an old wooden bed, all showing signs of insect and termite damage. This was likely an abandoned hideout.

Daylight had come; sunlight filtered through the cracks in the cabin walls, piercing and blinding. Without hesitation, Dio called out to wake Mumuye.

The sleeping boy rubbed his drowsy eyes, revealing his strikingly clear black-and-white eyes. His long, dark lashes cast delicate shadows on his pupils, making him appear even more innocent and beautiful. It was an enchanting little face.

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Unfortunately, Dio was no longer deceived by that pitifully cute appearance. He sneered, “I really underestimated you before, Mumuye. Didn’t expect you had such tricks.”

“No, Dio. I’m not as formidable as you think. You could still subdue me with one hand. I only used a few petty tricks,” the boy said earnestly.

Mumuye’s voice was still soft and delicate, slender and sweet, lacking the ruggedness of a boy’s tone. No wonder everyone mistook him for a girl at first.

Dio scoffed coldly: “So what if I’m stronger than you? In the end, I still fell into your hands.”

He glared at Mumuye and asked, “What exactly are you planning? Are you going to tie me up and defect to JOJO, reporting my plot to seize the Joestar family fortune?”

Mumuye shook his head: “If I wanted that, I wouldn’t go through all this trouble. Besides, they are both good people. Even if they knew your intentions, they’d probably forgive you.”

Dio was unconvinced. He thought the Joestars’ behavior wasn’t kindness but foolishness, and he felt no emotion toward them.

Seeing his expression, Mumuye knew exactly what he was thinking. He headbutted Dio’s chest, complaining unhappily, “You’re really a big villain, Dio!”

The blond boy beneath him raised an eyebrow and smiled: “Didn’t you know this all along?”

He never felt shame about being bad; rather, there was a faint pride.

Mumuye’s lashes fluttered, his beautiful eyes fixed on him. Under that clear, bright gaze, Dio’s smirk faded. He looked at him expressionlessly and said, “Don’t look at me like that, brat. I hate it.”

Mumuye frowned and said, “What you’re doing is wrong, Dio.”

Dio sneered disdainfully, refusing to submit: “Why is it wrong? Spare me the lectures.”

“This is my life’s creed, perfectly appropriate. As long as I keep this up, I can thrive anywhere! Didn’t you rely on me to survive in the slums? Now that you’ve come to the noble’s territory, you take up their rules and arrogantly judge me?”

The boy was stunned by Dio’s verbal attack, staring blankly at him.

After a long pause, he composed himself and said, “That’s not true. I never thought that. No one’s trying to discipline you. You did something wrong and deserved punishment. We used those means in the slums to survive. But now we live here and don’t need those dirty tricks to live well.”

His face was sincere; his eyes shone with hope. It was clear that was his genuine belief.

Dio stared coldly, mocking, “That’s because you lack ambition. After living a good life, don’t you want to keep living like this forever? Relying only on others’ kindness is never reliable!”

Damn it, they were not on the same wavelength.

Neither could convince the other. Mumuye gave up struggling.

Dio glared and shouted, “Let me go now.”

Mumuye flatly refused, “No. You haven’t been punished yet.”

Dio found the boy’s mouth moving, spouting nonsense, and was amused despite himself.

“Punished? Why punish me? Who made you the judge?”

Dio yelled and tried to move his wrists but found the ropes too tight. The more he struggled, the tighter they became, and his face darkened.

The boy, still wearing the suspenders he wore as a child, was displeased: “You hit Danny earlier. You shouldn’t have done that.”

Dio was dumbfounded that the root of this conflict was a dog.

He, Dio, was tied up by the little brat he had always cared for, all because of a dog.

“That dog is so important? More important than me? More important than the time we relied on each other?” Dio roared in disbelief. “Are you stupid? Can’t you tell who’s more important to you?”

Mumuye leaned over, lying on Dio’s body. He abandoned his previous gentle appearance and spoke seriously: “I just think your behavior was wrong. If you wanted to go after that guy Dario before, I wouldn’t say a word, and I wouldn’t stop you. But Danny is a different matter.”

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“Are you just someone who picks on creatures weaker than you?”

Dio was so furious he wanted to bite him.

Mumuye was equally angry, and they parted on bad terms.

He hurried back before the Joestar family’s servants noticed their absence. To prevent the Joestars from worrying, Mumuye lied, saying Dio had urgent business at home in the middle of the night and had to leave.

George frowned deeply and said seriously, “He should have told us instead of acting impulsively.”

Mumuye gave a perfunctory reply.

By evening, Mumuye returned to see Dio. His binding skills were cunning; he tied him to a post so tightly that unless Dio could fly or burrow underground, escape was impossible.

Dio’s stomach growled loudly in hunger. He knew Mumuye must have lied to George, so they probably wouldn’t send anyone to search.

He didn’t know what other schemes the little brat might hatch. Facing Mumuye, he could be both pliant and defiant: “I know I was wrong. Let me go, Mumuye. I won’t bother that stupid… little dog Danny again.”

He hadn’t eaten or drunk anything all day; his throat was hoarse, and his voice was rough.

Mumuye’s clear eyes looked at him directly: “Dio, you’re lying.”

Dio fell silent.

He realized Mumuye knew him too well, so he couldn’t pretend as he did with George.

He chuckled lightly: “You’re really something, Mumuye. So you’re going to starve me to death? Dehydrate me, too?”

He suddenly lost strength and leaned against the post behind him, unwilling to waste words.

Mumuye sighed, ran over, and magically produced a cup of water from behind his back. Bringing it to Dio’s dry lips, he slowly fed him.

The water was clear and refreshing, seemingly sweetened with honey, moistening Dio’s parched mouth and tongue.

Dio drank greedily, having been thirsty all day. He had no qualms about drinking the water.

Better to die comfortably than in misery.

Mumuye propped his chin on his hand and said, “Even though you lied to me, because you admitted your mistakes, I’ll reward you.”

Though his demeanor was gentle and obedient, the sweet and tender smile on his cheeks belied the fact he had just done something as bad as imprisoning someone and spoke of punishment and reward like a child.

It made Dio see him in a new light.

This guy’s disguise was even better than his own; he was far more complicated than he appeared.

Dio continued to drink, his crimson eyes fixed intently on Mumuye. He drank hurriedly and choked a couple of times.

Embarrassed by his clumsy state, he licked his lips and repeated, “You really are something, Mumuye.”

Gently, Mumuye wiped the corner of his mouth; his hands were soft and fragrant, carrying the scent of honey.