"..."
Time remained frozen, yet Jotaro noticed that DIO showed no intention of attacking.
Strange.
During their last battle, DIO had thrown everything he had into killing him. Why the hesitation now?
'Nine seconds—almost up...'
'No point wasting energy on an outsider like Jotaro.'
DIO counted down the remaining stopped time and made his decision.
He wouldn't fight Jotaro here.
From every angle, a head-on confrontation offered zero benefit.
If anything, he risked getting "script-killed."
The wisest move was to retreat. Avoid the nemesis entirely.
"!"
Before Jotaro's stunned gaze, DIO simply vanished into the night sky.
"What—?!"
Unable to discern the truth behind DIO's disappearance, Jotaro's brow furrowed deeply.
At that instant, frozen time resumed its flow.
"Hmph. Our battle can wait, Jotaro."
"It's still... too soon."
The lingering words echoed from nowhere, offering no clue to DIO's location.
"Damn it... what the hell...?"
Jotaro couldn't find a trace of him. No hint of whether DIO lurked in the shadows nearby.
That vanishing act—he'd never witnessed anything like it.
"Wait..."
His mind flashed back to when Josuke's Servant, Sakuya, had departed. She'd disappeared into thin air the exact same way.
"An ability shared by all Servants?"
The realization hit: there were secrets about this war he still didn't understand.
That bastard—the one he'd finally beaten to death—had returned as a Servant.
To pretend he hadn't seen? Impossible.
"DIO. Wherever you run, I'll send you back to hell!"
...…
"Hah! Never expected this, did you, Jotaro? This is my escape route!"
Having slipped away from his nemesis via spirit form, DIO exhaled with satisfaction.
This was the key difference between Servants and ordinary Stand users.
In spirit form, he was virtually untraceable.
Against Jotaro, he could simply... walk away.
"Hmm?"
"He's fighting someone?"
"The aura feels like another Servant."
"Interesting..."
Sensing Diavolo's activity, DIO's mood brightened.
Why not see what kind of Servant had engaged his troublesome Master?
"Either way, whoever wins means nothing to me."
Utterly indifferent, DIO drifted toward the confrontation.
...…
'What the hell is going on?'
'I can't even get close to him?'
Diavolo stared at the white-haired Servant limping along with a cane, his expression darkening.
He'd assumed this was easy prey—a lone target. With King Crimson's power, even a Servant should've been simple to dispatch.
But Epitaph's future-vision painted a troubling picture.
Through Epitaph, Diavolo could glimpse events ten-plus seconds ahead.
And in every scenario he observed—whether commanding his Stand to attack or trying to close the distance himself—the outcome was the same.
Absurd. Impossible.
Before he could fully approach, he'd be launched backward. Even forcing King Crimson to charge accomplished nothing.
So now he stood there, locked in a staring contest, utterly clueless.
"What's the matter? You jumped out so confident, and this is all you've got?"
Accelerator eyed the stranger, already aware this was one of the Masters.
Bold of him to strut into view like that.
He'd expected some trick, some scheme—but the guy had just been standing there, frozen, since the moment he appeared.
*TAP!*
"If you're not coming over... then I'll come to you."
His cane struck the ground with a sharp report. A cold smile crossed Accelerator's face.
"!"
"?"
The instant he lifted his leg, Accelerator realized his position had changed.
"He vanished?"
He stood where Diavolo had been. The man was nowhere in sight.
"What just happened?"
Combing through his memory, Accelerator found no recollection of moving.
He'd intended to Reflect-accelerate himself forward and obliterate that octopus-headed freak in an instant.
But that "speed"... it was abnormally fast.
So fast that he had zero awareness of the in-between.
That shouldn't be possible. He'd calculated the launch trajectory precisely. There was no room for "error."
Yet here he was—standing exactly where Diavolo had been—with no memory of the journey.
He couldn't recall the process of moving at all.
Never mind how the enemy had vanished. From the moment he lifted his leg to "sprint" until the moment he "stopped," the middle was a complete blank.
"Tch. So this is a Stand ability?"
A novel experience, to say the least.
Academy City didn't have anyone pulling tricks like this.
His knowledge upon becoming a Servant had outlined Stands' existence and composition—but their bizarre, infinite variety remained beyond his grasp.
Vector manipulation allowed him to execute absurd feats of Reflection, but those feats still required conscious calculation.
"Still... the fact that he used this power to flee rather than attack proves my Reflection affects Stands just fine."
He didn't know why that Master had hesitated to strike, but Accelerator was beginning to unravel the nature of Stands.
Before venturing out, he'd already pre-calculated a vast array of Reflection parameters.
Kinetic energy. Thermal energy. Electrical energy.
Air. Gravity. Atmospheric pressure. Light. Heat. Sound. Mental wavelengths.
Even close-quarters assaults—fists, knives, bullets—had been factored in.
Theoretically, the only way an enemy could harm him was to bypass his constructed "firewall" entirely.
This little stroll was meant to observe what kind of "unscientific" phenomena these so-called Stands actually were.
So far, it seemed Stands still obeyed certain principles.
Conventional attacks—punches and the like—couldn't touch him.
"The troublesome part is those supernatural abilities, huh?"
"Interesting..."
"Finally—something that makes me want to try."
Beneath the silent night sky, Accelerator let out a derisive laugh, anticipation glinting in his eyes.