17. A Rose Dedicated to Dio (17)
Dio and Mumuya thus remained at the school.
The school’s curriculum was complex and extensive. For ordinary families, students didn’t need to study too much, but by noble standards, they had to master a great deal.
Mumuya was here to slack off; he wasn’t very committed to his studies.
He only focused on one aspect of learning, doing just enough to go through the motions of school life, to show he was making an effort.
He was fully aware of his own abilities and had no inheritance to claim, nor many ambitions.
To be precise, he had absolutely no ambition.
Dio, on the other hand, was the complete opposite—a genuine overachiever with an indomitable spirit.
He demanded excellence in everything, not necessarily striving to be the absolute best, but at least better than JOJO.
He was born with a leader’s temperament. Even at a young age and without guidance, he had already mastered the skill of wielding a big stick with a sweet carrot, disciplining boys his age into complete obedience.
In less than a week at the school, he had gathered a group of followers around him.
Mumuya was astonished—truly a gang leader!
Later, JOJO even came to their dorm room looking for them, but Dio couldn’t be bothered to pay him any attention.
At the Joestar estate, Dio would still put on an act, but at school, he didn’t even spare JOJO a glance.
Even Mumuya was powerless against this.
At this time, Dio was still immature and arrogant, incapable of disguise, only using such crude methods to compete with JOJO and establish dominance.
Mumuya shrugged and responded to JOJO’s inquiry after he came looking for them: “I’m doing fine at school. The teachers don’t give me a hard time, and the classmates are quite friendly.”
Hearing this, JOJO instantly felt much relieved.
He smiled brightly, his face as sunny and angelic as ever: “That’s great! I was worried you wouldn’t fit in here. I’ve actually been waiting for you to come find me, but it seems you all forgot. But now it seems no news is good news.”
Mumuya hadn’t expected JOJO to be so sincere and warm, and he felt slightly guilty.
After all, he had started his lazy student life the moment he arrived—just physically attending classes while his mind was elsewhere. Back in the dorm, he played games and read light novels, vastly different from his diligent roommate.
He completely forgot about JOJO’s existence and never thought to reach out.
Dio could read the thoughts on his face.
He said somewhat irritably to JOJO, “Isn’t now supposed to be the time to rest, JOJO? Everyone’s taking a break, and the dorm supervisor will be here to check soon. Aren’t you going to leave? Do you want us all to get punished together?”
JOJO hurriedly explained, “I didn’t mean to, and I had no such intention…”
Mumuya was about to speak, but JOJO quickly composed himself, forcing a smile: “Forget it, I’ll come see you later. If the supervisor finds us, it’ll really be trouble. I’ll go now. Goodbye.”
Mumuya could only wave him off helplessly: “Alright, then come next time. If I get the chance, I’ll visit you too.”
He closed the door and turned to see Dio’s dark face sitting on the sofa.
The sofa was placed under the window, backlit, casting Dio’s face in shadow and making him look even more intimidating.
“W-Why are you looking at me like that?” Mumuya shrank back a little, taking small steps forward while stubbornly saying, “I’m not trying to butter up JOJO, just being polite. Do you have to be so angry?”
He didn’t understand.
“Why be polite to him? You don’t even ask him to do anything!” Dio said unhappily.
Mumuya replied, “It’s just etiquette! That’s all.”
He collapsed wearily onto the sofa.
Dio pondered, “True, I’ve heard your Eastern culture values etiquette highly.”
Mumuya brightened, thinking Dio finally understood him.
But Dio smiled slyly: “So what? This isn’t your old country anymore. Since you’re so smart and know how to disguise yourself, you should know that after crossing the ocean, you have to abandon all that.”
Mumuya was puzzled: “Abandon everything… What do you want me to do?”
Dio suddenly changed his cold expression to a particularly cunning smile, clearly plotting something.
He didn’t hide anything: “I’ve thought of a good idea—”
His crimson eyes dimmed as he revealed his villainous nature once again: “I’ll isolate JOJO, make him lose all his friends, become depressed and despondent. Since I’m better and stronger in every way, I can make him look like a weak, incompetent scion in George’s eyes, so the inheritance will end up in my hands.”
Mumuya didn’t know whether to call him naïvely cruel or just a despicable ungrateful brat.
He shook his head disapprovingly: “But no matter what, JOJO is still George’s biological son. He would never give up on him.”
Dio was momentarily stunned, then his face turned cold and merciless: “It doesn’t matter. Even if George originally planned to split the inheritance fifty-fifty between JOJO and me, after this it’ll be seventy-thirty, eighty-twenty, maybe even ninety-one.”
Mumuya couldn’t help admiring Dio’s greed, but he refused to take part in such a plan.
He rested his chin on his hand, his delicate brows furrowed, lips pressed into a line.
His finely featured, pale face was twisted in a troublesome frown.
Dio glanced at him, then after a few seconds, said: “Forget it, it doesn’t matter whether you join this plan or not.”
Mumuya was confused: “Why?”
Dio looked self-evident: “You’re so lazy, you definitely don’t want to hang out with JOJO. Even if you exchange a few words now and then, can you really talk every day and become good friends? You’d rather stay inside all day reading your messy books.”
He almost said outright that Mumuya was a useless sloth with no energy to fool around with JOJO, who, by nature, wanted to gather friends his own age for fun.
Little waste: “...What do you mean?”
Though the world’s character setting was closest to his original nature, hearing it out of Dio’s mouth made everything feel off.
Dio had no intention of sparing his pride, snorting: “Literally what I said.”
That brat!
Thus, Dio set in motion a plan that deliberately excluded Mumuya.
At first, it went smoothly. When Dio and JOJO went to the countryside to spar, a rumor quickly spread through the town—that JOJO liked to tattle in front of adults and couldn’t keep friends’ secrets.
The rumor was distorted as it spread, painting JOJO in a very negative light.
Soon, JOJO lost all his close friends.
But the plan faltered later on.
Especially when Dio wanted to make George disappointed in JOJO, the attack was very weak.
Not because George doted on his son and wouldn’t speak ill of him regardless of his behavior, but because JOJO’s conduct was simply not the worst.
No matter how well Dio performed, or how badly JOJO looked in comparison, the latter never faced harsh blame.
Dio received much praise, but it brought him no joy—it wasn’t the result he wanted.
The culprit behind it all—
Mumuya sneezed, looking innocent and bewildered.
“You’re supposed to be a noble, so why are you so bad at this?” Dio gritted his teeth.
He wanted to pry open the little waste’s head to see what was inside.
Mumuya sighed, smiling and shrugging: “Do I look like someone who studies etiquette diligently, Dio? I don’t even like chess, and I hate complicated table manners. Besides, my grades are terrible—an undeniable fact.”
He smiled sweetly and obediently, no hint of his earlier mischievous attitude.
All true—Mumuya only cared about what interested him.
He blinked, almost wanting to say, “I really am a little waste.”
Dio fell silent.
What was he expecting?
Fortunately, Dio didn’t think such a simple tactic could bring down JOJO, so he didn’t blame Mumuya entirely.
His plan went fairly well at first, but the “isolation” of JOJO ended abruptly halfway through.
Dio paced the room in circles, deep in thought.
Today, Mumuya wore short pumpkin pants, lounging softly on the sofa with a book on his lap.
Dio glanced at him casually, about to turn away, but his gaze suddenly stopped.
His brow furrowed involuntarily, and he strode over, saying, “Look at you—far too lazy and quite unpresentable.”
The little waste wanted to cover his head, pouting, thinking Dio was more nagging than George.
But he never rebelled over such trivialities, to avoid spoiling everyone’s mood.
He adjusted his sitting posture slightly, legs together, ankles crossed—the pose of a well-behaved child.
Dio’s expression improved noticeably. He then walked to the window and looked outside.
That glance caught his attention, and his mood darkened again.
Though expressionless, Mumuya could tell Dio was definitely annoyed—a moody villain indeed.
Resting his chin on his hand, Mumuya lowered his eyes as Dio approached, speaking in a low, displeased voice: “JOJO seems to be doing very well. He was smiling all the way here, looking quite pleased. I wonder who he made friends with to be so proud.”
It was precisely because JOJO was so cheerful and unbothered by loneliness that Dio’s isolation plan fell apart.
Determined to find out what was going on, Dio listened closely.
Mumuya, detached from them, was the one with a mouth to speak. Unlike Dio, who had to sneak around investigating, Mumuya bluntly asked, “JOJO, has something good happened recently? You look very happy.”
JOJO, a big boy, blushed at the casual question, stammering, unable to answer.
Dio had only wanted to hear why Mumuya was suddenly seeking out JOJO, but now he listened attentively.
JOJO’s shy demeanor made him even more curious.
Mumuya was no fool; this Eastern child was sharp and perceptive, well-read across many topics.
He asked with curiosity, “Is it because JOJO has someone he likes? You sure look like it.”
JOJO: “!!!”
Dio: “???”
JOJO hurriedly denied, “No, Alina and I are just friends!”
Though he said that, his face was as red as a tomato. Worried he might say something inappropriate and unable to keep secrets from Mumuya, JOJO fled quickly.
Leaving only Mumuya and Dio behind.
Dio immediately asked, “How do you know so much about those things?”
His gaze was somewhat unfriendly.
Mumuya: “??? Your focus shouldn’t be on JOJO’s little girlfriend, Alina!”