15. A Rose Dedicated to Dio (15)

Mumuno narrowed his eyes slightly and said, “Dio, don’t say things like that. I’m still on your side. Rest assured, no matter what, I’m still your ‘wife,’ aren’t I?”

Those were the words Dio had threatened him with when he climbed into his bed in the middle of the night. Now that their positions had suddenly reversed, such words sounded tinged with sarcasm.

Dio clicked his tongue.

He didn’t say whether he believed it or not, but he knew deep down he would soon engrave the truth that Mumuno was not an easy person to deal with.

Mumuno pursed his lips and muttered gloomily, “It must be unpleasant to be restricted from eating at will and locked up by others. That’s the feeling of imposing such constraints on a harmless weaker person.”

Dio sneered coldly, “You’re really kind-hearted, aren’t you, young master?”

Ignoring Dio’s hostility, Mumuno said plainly, “I won’t do anything to you. I just want you to understand that not everything can be done without regard for others. I will let you go, and even if you seek revenge later, I won’t resist. After all, as you know, I’ve never been stronger than you.”

His fingers gently moved to the ropes binding Dio’s wrists, speaking earnestly, “What I said before was sincere.”

Which part? You little liar.

Dio cursed silently.

His earlobes slowly flushed red.

Yet he didn’t move, patiently waiting for Mumuno to untie the ropes slowly. Even when his wrists were freed, he made no immediate move.

Only when the ropes around his ankles were loosened as well did Dio spring up with lightning speed, pinning Mumuno beneath him.

“Heavy,” Mumuno frowned and complained unhappily.

This guy on top was strong and pressed his full weight down to keep him immobile.

He had been right before—he truly lacked the strength to resist Dio.

“Now you’ve tasted what I felt before. How does it feel, Mumuno?” Dio taunted him.

Mumuno was speechless, frowning deeply. He should have known that Dio was unrepentant and would seek revenge at the first opportunity.

Dio would not let him feign death silently. Suddenly lowering his head, he bit down hard on Mumuno’s throat.

The bite was deep and fierce; the little weakling gasped sharply in pain.

No doubt the skin was broken and bleeding!

Mumuno hadn’t expected such cruelty from Dio, and his eyes reddened instantly.

The worst part was that Dio didn’t stop there—he bit and ground the soft flesh with a hateful intensity, like a wolf cub.

The weakling cried out in pain.

Seeing the once arrogant and wild fellow reduced to such a vulnerable state, Dio felt an indescribable satisfaction.

He pinched Mumuno’s soft, tender, pale cheek, kneading it like dough with considerable force, grinning arrogantly: “This is the lesson you earned for messing with me today.”

Dio’s crimson eyes shone brightly, and a few drops of fresh blood stained his already red lips.

He looked every bit the vampire.

When they returned, it was very late. The Joestar household was brightly lit, and everyone was waiting for them.

Both received reproach from George, but their minds were elsewhere.

Fortunately, George’s sternness was only temporary; he still cared deeply for the two boys.

Noticing the wound on Mumuno’s neck, he called a maid to dress it.

After confirming with the maid that there were no other injuries, George said nothing further.

The two boys exchanged a glance, then looked away silently.

At least this matter had been turned over—at the very least, Dio no longer bullied Danny, the cow-like dog, and out of sight meant out of mind.

Their new clothes were slowly being made, and all their supplies had been purchased, the same as Jojo’s.

George had already arranged for their enrollment.

Soon, they would be locked away in school for proper instruction!

Though Dio wasn’t keen to talk to Mumuno, he was even less inclined to speak with Jojo.

Besides, Mumuno was the one who knew him best here.

That evening, when Mumuno slipped into the woods to swing on a swing, Dio came looking for him.

He asked bluntly, “Have you ever been to school before, Mumuno?”

Mumuno honestly shook his head, then nodded slightly.

His face was soft and plump; being young, his eyes appeared large, round, and endearing.

He said, “I studied in my own country before, but I’ve never attended school here, so I don’t really know much.”

Dio looked at him steadily, certain Mumuno wouldn’t lie about that.

He commented caustically, “Your family is really bold to come all this way across the ocean to such an unfamiliar country without knowing anything.”

Suddenly, his tone turned cold and serious: “You’re not stupid—you’re actually quite clever and capable of self-protection. So why did you choose to get involved with that foolish old man and come to such a poor family like ours?”

He began to doubt Mumuno’s true identity.

The boy winked slyly, his stray hair fluttering in the wind, his smile broad: “Because I thought your father was stupid and greedy, easy to control. Then I could use him to get the life I want.”

He sighed, “But I didn’t expect your family to have someone as outstanding as you. I guess I’ll just have to take it slow.”

Dio was amused by his matter-of-fact tone, unsure whether to be angry or accept the compliment.

At least he had seen the true face of this Eastern brat now, so he wouldn’t be fooled later.

He lifted his chin and said coldly, “You are indeed intelligent—much better than that Jojo fellow. But you have a fatal flaw.”

Mumuno looked at him, puzzled: “What?”

Dio didn’t tease but said directly, “You’re too kind. People who are overly generous often end up with no good reward.”

The meaningful words struck Mumuno dumb.

Up to this point, their conversation remained calm. Mumuno gently swung his short legs, tapping lightly on the ground, then the swing moved backward.

There was no way Dio would stand behind to push him, so he had to swing alone.

But then, the situation took a sharp turn.

Dio narrowed his eyes and questioned him: “So, all those ‘good deeds’ you did before were just to toy with me?”

He recalled the “poison” the weakling made by hand, the thugs bullying him in front of Dio. Clumsy and inept at housework. His awkwardness when caring for Dalio and himself, and the fear and panic he showed when attempting to poison Dalio—all that aside.

But using such a harsh, irritating alcohol on him was definitely deliberate!

Dio clenched his fists.

Staring at Mumuno’s cute little face, he wondered if his small frame could withstand a punch from him.

Mumuno’s gaze dropped to Dio’s tightly clenched fist, revealing a fearful expression.

He hurriedly said, “W-wait, don’t misunderstand. Everything I did before was unintentional—I never meant to cause you trouble. I really don’t know how to do those things! My mind is sharp, yes, but I’ve never touched a drop of housework.”

The explanation was barely plausible.

Dio snorted coldly and flicked his forehead.

Mumuno covered his head, tears springing to his eyes: “Ouch! That hurts!”

He pursed his lips, glaring at him, muttering, “You’re so stingy.”

Dio narrowed his eyes and said softly, “So, are you planning to find ways to torment me again tonight?”

Mumuno retorted, “No way, I’m not that big a villain. Besides, I don’t have anything left to use against you. Stop doubting me all the time.”

“If you didn’t have a record, why would I suspect you?” Dio shot back.

Though they bickered incessantly, anyone could see by their easy camaraderie that their relationship was fairly harmonious.

Jojo, who had no friends in the mansion, looked at them with envy.

Fortunately, Danny had reconciled with him again, so he could happily play with Danny.

The day they were to go to school arrived quickly.

Mumuno and Dio both donned the little suits the old tailor had sent. Dio’s was blue; Mumuno’s was brown.

Both young and spirited, the bright colors suited them well, giving a fresh, handsome vitality.

Dio was naturally good-looking, tall and leggy. In his suit, he looked like a born leader.

His blond hair was slicked back, his crimson eyes deep and steady. A white shirt with a red tie at the collar, he looked confident—no trace of his slum origins.

Mumuno’s sweet voice praised him, “Dio, you look so mature and steady now—better than most.”

Stepping out of his bedroom, Mumuno wore the brown suit. Though slimmer than Dio, his well-proportioned figure with a slender waist and long legs filled out the suit just as impressively.

Especially since his suit was tailored perfectly, draping elegantly and of high quality, fitting his body wonderfully.

The collar was open—unlike Dio’s buttoned-up shirt and tie—revealing a small patch of delicate, pale skin.

Dio’s gaze was drawn by his lively voice, lingering slightly—this Eastern brat in a suit wasn’t odd at all, but rather adorable and exquisite, like a little prince from a fairy tale.

Dio turned away expressionlessly, unwilling to admit he had been momentarily distracted.

After all, he was just... an Eastern brat his age, and a delicate boy at that.

Mumuno complained, “Really, by the rules of courtesy, shouldn’t you be complimenting me now?”

Dio smiled, “Yeah, that’s right. Wearing a suit makes you a refined rogue.”

Mumuno glared, “That title suits you better than me!”

Dio was too lazy to argue and casually pinched his cheek as they headed downstairs.

Since returning from the cabin, Mumuno had grown increasingly bold.

Following behind, Mumuno covered his reddened left cheek, gritting his teeth: “Dio—!!”