19 Roses Dedicated to Dio (19)

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Mumuno closed his book and looked at JOJO, who returned home in a slump. JOJO must have already tried to reconcile with Elena, but the results were probably disappointing. Everything seemed too coincidental—JOJO happened to encounter an injured country girl by chance, and by accident, Elena saw him while he was helping her. It was this chain of too many coincidences that made Mumuno keenly sense something was off. Most likely, this was another one of Dio’s schemes. Thinking this, he decided to confront Dio directly.

“Did you do this? That girl—you arranged for her to be there, didn’t you?” Mumuno asked outright, treating himself not as an outsider at all.

Dio, just having enjoyed seeing JOJO’s dejected state with a pleased mood, raised his thick eyebrows that shadowed his eyes and said, “Since you’re already convinced in your heart, why bother asking me?”

Mumuno was speechless. He thought to himself that Dio was quite cunning to come up with such a trick. If only he put these talents to proper use, how formidable he could be. Before Mumuno could say anything, Dio crossed his arms and looked down at him with disdain.

“I merely set a small test for their love. It’s just that they failed it themselves! If they truly liked each other, they would trust one another. How could my little scheme possibly ruin their relationship?” Dio scoffed.

This was sheer sophistry, and Mumuno was dumbfounded. Dio’s red eyes locked onto his, as if he could peer straight into his soul. “Like us,” he said. “We know each other too well. Can anyone use such tricks to break our bond?”

He chuckled twice.

Mumuno stepped back a few paces, looked up, and sighed, “Fine.”

He was utterly helpless against Dio’s twisted logic; this guy’s character was hopelessly fixed! Mumuno wasn’t overly worried about JOJO’s romantic life anyway. Dio’s misunderstandings were fragile and low-level, unlikely to truly harm the feelings between JOJO and Elena. Once they cleared things up, their relationship might even deepen.

As Mumuno guessed, after returning from school, Dio found that JOJO and Elena had already reconciled as before.

Frowning in confusion, Dio asked, “How did that woman forgive JOJO again? Even if their relationship involves a third party, is that really okay?”

Mumuno yawned lazily. “There’s another possibility—they have a bond stronger than gold. No misunderstanding can’t be resolved.”

He rubbed his eyes. “Even if JOJO accidentally kissed that girl, as long as he hasn’t truly fallen for someone else, Elena won’t be disappointed.”

Dio’s anger was doused like a bucket of ice water; he calmed down and said faintly, “You make a good point.”

He began reviewing his recent actions. Even without Mumuno around, his plans wouldn’t have seriously hurt JOJO. JOJO was optimistic and lively; external blows were temporary. People would be drawn to him, coming close and forming bonds.

Dio reflected on his previous methods—immature and feeble, unable to achieve his true goals. Worse, they might have prematurely revealed his intentions, risking expulsion from the Joestar family.

His mood softened considerably, a refreshing smile spreading across his face. “Ah, I’ve figured it out.”

Mumuno put down his book, yawned, unaware of the emotional struggle Dio had just undergone in minutes. He adjusted his posture and asked curiously, “What have you figured out?”

Dio sat beside Mumuno and laughed softly. “Of course, to live in peace with JOJO and become the Joestar family’s finest adopted son.”

He turned to look at Mumuno and paused. “...What’s that look on your face?”

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Mumuno blurted out, “Are you under a witch’s spell?”

Dio: “...”

His expression darkened. “My strength is too weak right now to take down JOJO. Besides, he’s still young. No matter what happens, there’s time to make things right. George is still in his prime.”

He looked at the adorable little weakling and relaxed, speaking lazily, “This is the you I’m familiar with.”

Dio was amused and playfully pinched his cheek.

Mumuno slapped his hand away. “Don’t underestimate me—I’ve been serious about martial arts and fencing classes recently!”

All to resist you!

Dio, reading his thoughts from his gaze, grinned maliciously. “Fine, then show me what you’ve learned.”

He overwhelmed Mumuno with sheer strength, tousling his silky black hair, pinching his soft cheeks, tormenting him until his delicate face flushed red.

Despite using both hands and feet, Mumuno couldn’t push Dio off. Instead, he was pinned down, gasping for breath.

“Looks like your training isn’t quite up to par,” Dio taunted.

Mumuno gave up struggling and lay there like a salted fish, utterly lacking any fighting spirit.

Even Dio had no patience left for him.

After they played enough, they went downstairs to eat.

The maid was meticulously cleaning the house, wiping surfaces everywhere—even the stone mask hanging on the wall wasn’t spared.

That mask depicted a face with closed eyes, eerie and ominous, exuding a sinister aura. It was unclear why the Joestar family kept it in their living room.

Noticing Dio and Mumuno’s curiosity, the maid smiled and explained, “This was brought back by the late lady over a decade ago. It’s called the Stone Ghost Mask. To honor her, the master hung it in the living room.”

Both nodded in understanding.

As she set down the mask, she accidentally scratched her finger, and blood dripped out. She screamed in surprise.

Dio and Mumuno looked over to see the stone mask had fallen. From behind it extended several sharp spikes, like spider’s antennae.

If anyone wore it, they’d likely be pierced through the head by this mask!

“That’s dangerous,” Mumuno frowned.

Hearing the commotion, George and his sons hurried over. The maid kept apologizing profusely.

George shook his head. “It’s fine. It didn’t break. Just be more careful when cleaning.”

Indeed, the mask was incredibly sturdy. Despite the severe fall, it wasn’t even chipped.

Dio stared at the mask, his expression unreadable.

This was a minor incident, causing no great disturbance, seemingly buried by the sands of time.

Yet, in the blink of an eye, six years passed, and the three Joestar children had all come of age.

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The once youthful boys had grown into hardened men, possessing strong physiques and formidable combat skills. Their expressions bore resolve and sternness.

Except for Mumuno.

Though he had grown taller, his build couldn’t compare with Dio or JOJO. He remained slender and delicate, appearing gentle and harmless.

Among the three, George worried most about Mumuno. He feared the boy might be hurt in the future and worried that after George’s death, Mumuno wouldn’t be able to care for himself properly.

The only comfort was the harmonious and affectionate relationship among the three. Even after he was gone, they would likely support one another.

On a clear, sunny day, the three returned from their university in London.

Mumuno quietly stayed by Dio and JOJO’s side. As he matured, he became increasingly calm and gentle. His looks improved as well. While as a child, he seemed like a beautiful figure stepping out from an ink painting, now he possessed a brilliant, unparalleled radiance, with enchanting expression in every glance.

Yet his temperament was too refined and elegant, which subdued his striking charm. Once destined to be an untouchable sun in the sky, he had instead become a cold and distant moon on the horizon.

He was studying to be a pastor in university, a practical choice—this profession was respectable and guaranteed a few hundred pounds of income annually. With some effort, thousands per year was achievable. Plus, it required little physical or mental exertion, perfectly suited to him.

This career choice added to his pure and unblemished aura.

Dio chose law, while JOJO picked archaeology.

People truly cannot be judged by appearance.

However, with more legal knowledge, Dio would likely become even more adept at manipulating the Joestar family and scheming for their fortune.

Mumuno knew Dio’s character well. Getting him to abandon his sinister plans was nearly impossible.

“Yes, Father, we’re going hunting today. We’ve made arrangements with friends. Don’t worry, we’ll be careful. We’re no longer children,” Dio said nonchalantly to George.

Over the years, George’s hair had turned mostly white with fewer streaks of purple. He looked much older but still smiled and waved to the three, “I know. Remember to come back early.”

In recent years, the three had gone hunting together often. Previously, servants accompanied them, but in the last two years, they went on their own.

The three young men were tall and long-legged, dressed in fitted riding gear, looking sharp and capable.

Mumuno still moved slowly. In fact, he was never the main force in hunting.

His tight riding pants clung to his slender legs, a black belt cinching his slim waist.

Dio glanced at him more than ten times.

Sensing his gaze, Mumuno lifted his lazy eyelids and said in a husky voice, “Don’t look at me like that. I won’t hold you back.”

His horsemanship and hunting skills were not as strong as Dio’s or JOJO’s but were adequate.

Unaware of Dio’s thoughts, JOJO stepped in front of him, blocking Dio’s view and cheerfully said, “Yeah, I think Mumuno’s pretty good. Dio, you should trust him more.”

Dio smiled faintly. “Yes, JOJO, you’re right.”

Yet his smile did not reach his eyes.