Shizuka is standing up by now, supporting herself on the back of the couch and coughing violently. Josuke gets up too, but trips over a coffee table and smashes it through. He growls, a deep, throaty noise. A kind of aura appears around him, trying to take form into something vaguely humanoid, but it is unstable, and it sputters out before fully forming. Then the door to the kitchen opens.

A man wearing a brightly colored tracksuit steps through, holding his hand out in front of his mouth. In his hand is something heavy and metallic. The man clenches his fist.

There is an explosion, fire bursts out of the barrel of the gun, once, twice, three times. Josuke’s ears ring. His sputtering aura takes form enough into an arm, thickly muscled with glittering armor grafted to its flesh. The fist deflects the bullets, punching straight and sparks flying off its adamantine knuckles. The tracksuit man sees this, and his eyes goes wide. He fires again, and fires wide, the first bullet barely grazing the policeman, the second not even coming close.

But then there’s a small gasp.

A tiny black hole appears in Shizuka’s stomach. He watches his sister twitch in place, then lurch backwards as all feeling vacates her legs. He catches her as she falls towards the couch, and she looks up at him in shock and confusion. And the policeman looks up and sees Sanjo. He is leaning in the doorway behind the tracksuit man, watching. Smirking, and smoking his foul pipe.

The ringing in Josuke’s ears is replaced by a howl. His own voice. He charges and in the same moment, his soul splits in two and his Stand emerges. A humanoid form appears in all its furious glory, rose colored skin laden with unbreakable diamond armor shaped like hearts.

DORARA!!! replies the Stand, coming towards Shizuka and tapping her stomach with its fist. The bullet flies out in reverse, as the wound closes up, healing Shizuka. Josuke turns attention to flying bullet, as it finds its way back to the tracksuit man’s gun. As the bullet cocks back into place, the tracksuit man is left astonished at what he just saw. Looking towards the now enraged Josuke, the shooter makes a run for it.

Her brother is already advancing on the tracksuit man, leaping over the armchair and descending on him. The Stand is instantly back at his side, not giving the tracksuit a chance to fire again before punching right on the jaw with a sledgehammer fist. CRAZY DIAMOND picks the goon up, lifts him over its head, and hurls him out of the window, letting cool, fresh air to flood into the room. And like that, Josuke and Shizuka can breathe again, whatever blockage there was cleared.

The policeman stumbles, light headed from the sudden rush of oxygen, falling backward into a cupboard full of china cups, making them rattle. His throat hurts, and his eyes are weeping. He rubs at them roughly, and squints to see his sister getting shakily up from the couch.

Coughing once more, he gets up and tears round the doorway. Searching for the old man, with fury in his eyes. He isn’t in the kitchen. He is nowhere to be seen. Down a hall and round a corner is a backdoor, which hangs open, swinging in its frame as someone threw it open violently. Checking outside reveals only a view of a sparse back yard. Coming around to the front, Josuke finds nothing still.

Nothing except the groaning figure of the man in the colorful tracksuit. He groans louder as the policeman picks him up and holds him against the wall by his collar. “How did you do that?” he says through a cracked jaw.

“You wouldn’t get it if I told you. You get one chance to tell me where the old man went,” Josuke growls.

“How did… how did you even… you didn’t even touch me, but…” his words are cut off with another throw against the wall.

“I’m asking the questions, asshole! I’m asking you where the old man went!”

“He - he’s gone!” exclaims the tracksuit, throwing his hands up, “he told me to get rid of you if you started making a fuss!”

“Well, that’s your tough luck, pal, because one of those limpdick stray bullets you popped off went and hit my. Little. Sister. So you have 10 seconds to tell me where he’s going before I seriously hurt you!”

As Josuke watches, the man’s jaw begins to move. Crazy Diamond’s power acts upon where it hits, reforming it back to an ideal state. But when Josuke is angry, then those same objects become warped, as the tracksuit learns as his broken jaw bulges into a protruding wedge. His mouth stretches along with it, the left corner of his mouth pulling over his teeth and gums.

“Ma face! Wha did you do ta ma face?!” screams the tracksuit, his words slurred.

“5 seconds now! 4, 3, 2…!”

“You… you da same… da same as he is!”

“What? What are you on about?”

The man’s voice becomes low, whispering. “Hit meh without touching… done summing ta ma face… you da same as he is. Da boss. You got… mysterious powers!”

Josuke grimaces. “So it was him, huh? Inside, when we couldn’t breathe, that was Sanjo? Damn… And what the hell is so funny?”

The tracksuit giggles out of his deformed mouth, glaring at the policeman. “Ya can find da boss atta inland bay, 3 miles south o da harbour. Dass one of our drop-off points. He’ll be in one o da old ships there.”

“Drop-off point?”

“Das right, pig! But it don’t matter! You mighta found us out, tracked our op, ration down, but it still don’t matter. Da boss is stronga then yu, so even if ya find him, he’ll kill ya dead. And then we keep bringing in our drugs and make all da money in da world. So do whateva ya want ta me, cause ya don’t stand a chance!”

The policeman raises his eyebrows. “So, you guys are the new pushers in town, the Koreans?”

“Of course we are! That’s why you’re here, ain’t it? You here to drive us out, shut down our business!”

“Nope. I came round here today for a totally different reason. Seems like there’s been a miscommunication. But hey, it sure was generous of you to spill everything like that. Now, what was that you mentioned? About doing what I want to you?”

The tracksuit’s mouth flaps up and down like a goldfish. It is a grim satisfaction as Josuke sees him recognize the pressure exuded by the emerging Stand, even if he can’t see it. The policeman steps back, giving CRAZY DIAMOND space to loom over the tracksuit with fists raised high.

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(We’re back from a short break!)