12. A Rose Dedicated to Dio (12)

Mumuyo was easygoing; he would fall asleep as soon as he touched the bed. After a satisfying meal and a thorough wash, he simply lay down on the soft, cotton-like bed without any restless tossing and turning. He slept with a contented expression, his cheeks flushed and adorably rosy.

In the middle of the night, while dreaming, he mumbled a few nonsensical words. Dio, compelled by some strange impulse, leaned in to listen and heard Mumuyo muttering, “Dio, prepare to die! You despicable fiend.”

His shout was full of vigor, as if Mumuyo played the heroic figure in this drama, while Dio was cast as the villain. It was as though Mumuyo was the world’s savior, and Dio his cruel adversary.

Dio, who hadn’t yet settled scores with anyone, now learned that this fellow even dreamed of resisting him.

He sneered coldly in anger and immediately reached out his hand.

In the dream, Mumuyo was a brave and fearless warrior, wielding a greatsword to defeat the tyrannical and wicked demon king Dio. The demon king was beaten so thoroughly that he could only kneel and beg for mercy!

Yet, this trickster resorted to a sneak attack: while Dio was savoring his victory, Mumuyo suddenly transformed his hands into writhing tentacles, tightly binding him.

The scene was almost comical, but not enough to scare Dio; the poor creature, bound so tightly that even his mouth was gagged, was nearly suffocating.

His face flushed deep red as he abruptly opened his eyes.

The nightmare and reality overlapped!

Staring at the beautiful, sinister grin by the bedside, Mumuyo wished he could faint on the spot.

Dio released his grip, and Mumuyo hurriedly breathed in the sweet, fresh air, finally feeling the joy of being able to breathe freely.

“Heh, so you’re scared after all,” Dio sneered mockingly.

Mumuyo was angered enough to become alert.

He puffed out his cheeks, displeased, and said, “Why are you up in the middle of the night, deliberately bothering me?”

Dio, amused by his sharp tongue, laughed, “So you think you’ve got some guts now? That coming to the Joestar house means you can do whatever you want—even defy me?”

Mumuyo didn’t expect Dio to turn the tables and retort so easily. He stared wide-eyed in disbelief, his face flushed with anger.

“I never thought that! Don’t talk nonsense! You’re the one bullying me now; I wouldn’t dare oppose you,” he said, feeling even more aggrieved as he shot Dio a look of accusation.

Since he was afraid of being alone at night, the curtains in the room had been left open, and moonlight streamed through the window and gaps in the trees, casting a gentle glow on Mumuyo’s innocent, soft face.

Dio wasn’t fooled for a moment and snorted, “I really did come to settle accounts. Why did you deceive me before?”

Mumuyo hadn’t expected Dio to ask such a direct question so soon. He felt a bit guilty, but the more so, the bolder he became, confidently defending himself: “That’s because only girls are allowed to stay in your house. If I were a boy, buying me wouldn’t be much use to the Brando family.”

“You don’t need servants, and I’d just be an extra mouth to feed—wouldn’t that be a losing deal? But if there’s a chance I could marry into your family, become a Brando bride, then I’d have a reason to live.”

His reasoning was sound, and he showed no hesitation or shame in admitting this.

Dio was taken aback by his righteous attitude. From Mumuyo’s perspective, what he did was understandable.

But Dio was who he was. He chose to see himself as the one wronged and angry, ignoring Mumuyo’s argument.

He pinched the soft face of the little Eastern boy and leaned close, his cold, crimson eyes scrutinizing him.

“After some thought, your face is indeed quite nice. Since you’ve already resolved to become a bride of the Brando family, then in the future, you will surely fulfill your role as my wife well.”

A chilling voice whispered darkly into Mumuyo’s ear. The child, still comfortably lying in bed, suddenly sat up, struggling with all his might. His pinched face mumbled indistinctly, “Are you crazy?”

“Two boys together would be burned alive!” His face turned pale with fear.

Dio was well aware of the consequences. At just over ten years old, he harbored no notions of romance or youthful love, merely aiming to frighten Mumuyo.

He was quite angry and wanted to extract some payment from the culprit to soothe his mind.

Dio was very satisfied with Mumuyo’s reaction and smirked, “So what? You insisted on selling yourself to our family. It was witnessed at the time—you can’t just change your mind now. Just wait and see.”

His initial shock and anger at learning Mumuyo was male had faded, replaced by a sense of relief.

After frightening Mumuyo, he swaggered away, more at ease here than even in his own house.

Mumuyo glared at his retreating back, grinding his teeth multiple times in frustration. He stared fiercely, tugging at the blanket as if pulling on Dio himself, pounding it with his fists repeatedly.

After a long while, his expression calmed, and with his head bowed in the dim room, his mood grew dark and inscrutable.

*

Life at the Joestar residence was very comfortable. Even though he could no longer sleep until he naturally woke, it didn’t matter—he always got enough rest.

When Mumuyo stayed at the Brando house, even if he had little work to do, some small tasks still required his attention. Dio, the ruthless one, certainly didn’t care whether he lived or died.

But at the Joestar residence, he had nothing to do and lived a leisurely life, with everything managed by the butler and servants.

The manor was built in a small rural town where the air was noticeably fresher than in London.

After all, the industrial district was located in the East End, adjacent to the slums, where the polluted air was thick.

Mumuyo hardly dared to go outside often; it felt as if taking just two deep breaths would coat his lungs with dirty, black particles.

Now, finally, he had a place where he could freely run about, and of course, nothing could stop him.

Dio followed behind him, chuckling coldly several times.

He now laughed at his own foolishness. Despite how obvious Mumuyo’s behavior was, he had failed to realize it.

He had heard that girls from the East were gentle and reserved, shy and soft-spoken. He had thought those were mere stereotypes, as Mumuyo showed no sign of such delicate gentleness.

Now he realized the joke was on himself: Mumuyo wasn’t a girl at all, so where was the softness? He went wild at every chance.

He had been completely fooled by this little brat.

Dio felt a rare mix of shame and annoyance, strange emotions swelling in his chest. He attributed these feelings to his anger toward Mumuyo.

Mumuyo, playing happily in the manor, sensed the villain’s intense gaze piercing him like needles.

But Dio often stared gloomily like this, his moods unpredictable and volatile, so Mumuyo didn’t pay much attention.

The Joestar family also kept a small dog with a spotted coat named Danny, who was very friendly and adorable.

Mumuyo hadn’t seen the dog in a long time and, curious, played with it using a flying disc for a while.

JoJo was a cheerful and outgoing boy, roughly the same size as Dio. Both towered over Mumuyo by a head, but unlike Dio, JoJo lacked any oppressive aura.

Perhaps it was due to his sunny, gentle smile.

He warmly greeted Mumuyo, playing with him gleefully.

This scene of mutual joy stabbed at Dio’s eyes. He despised JoJo, who was foolish and reckless but born into nobility, living a life of ease and plenty.

Now that Mumuyo was happily playing with him, Dio felt as if his chest was stuffed with cotton, ready to be ignited by a flame.

“Ha ha ha ha, JoJo, you’re so smart! Danny listens to you so well!” Mumuyo’s clear voice rang out over the lawn, drifting far.

Anyone hearing it would feel their spirits lift.

Yet, these words poured fuel on Dio’s fire, igniting his rage, turning his face cold and dark enough to drip water.

Mumuyo and JoJo were having fun when Danny suddenly barked loudly, as if frightened.

They turned their heads to see Dio approaching with a cold, angry expression. Even JoJo, usually kind and friendly, felt that Dio was coming to cause trouble.

Mumuyo quickly patted Danny’s head, urging the dog to keep its distance.

Dio was ruthless and wouldn’t spare the dog, especially since its owner was JoJo, whom he disliked. With Danny barking at him, Dio’s displeasure was clear.

His guess was correct—if Mumuyo hadn’t pulled him away quickly, Dio’s foot would have kicked Danny.

He glared coldly at Mumuyo, the corners of his mouth turned down.

The little brat tensed but wasn’t very afraid.

“So you’re having a great time playing with this noble brat, huh? Barely a day here and you’re already clinging to him. Do you think sticking to him will bring you lots of benefits?” Dio’s face was terrifying: stunningly handsome, yet radiating an unbearable hostility.

Mumuyo’s lips moved, shaking his head in denial, “I’m not!”

JoJo didn’t want them to quarrel, so he said to Dio, “We’re just playing. Dio, don’t be mad. Want to join us?”

Unfortunately, Dio wouldn’t accept such kindness.

“Get lost, you idiot. I don’t need you telling me what to do! So what if you’re the son of a noble? I, Dio, am far stronger than you. I don’t need your orders,” Dio said coldly, glaring at him.

His mind was racing—just watching JoJo for those few seconds set his thoughts spinning wildly.

Mumuyo frowned, knowing Dio’s look at JoJo was anything but friendly.

He hurried over and pulled Dio away to prevent a fight, waving to JoJo before leaving, “JoJo, don’t worry about us. You keep playing.”

Though JoJo wasn’t entirely at ease, seeing Mumuyo’s confident expression, he chose not to disturb them.

Dio still scowled, glaring unpleasantly at Mumuyo but let himself be dragged away.

He was curious to see if Mumuyo could back up his words with some real proof.