The first punch connected with Dan’s jaw, sending him airborne. But Star Platinum wasn't finished. What followed was a rhythmic, relentless storm of strikes that echoed through the village square. "ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA!"
Dan panicked, summoning The Lovers one last time to attempt a desperate escape, but it was useless.
The power dynamic shifted in a heartbeat. Steely Dan’s face went pale, his smug grin evaporating into a mask of pure terror. He tried to laugh it off, stepping back. "Wait! Jotaro, we can talk about this! I was just joking around, you know? A little camaraderie!"
Jotaro didn't say a word. He simply reached into his pocket and pulled out the notebook he’d been carrying. He flipped it open to a page filled with neat, dense handwriting.
Jotaro walked over, his shadow looming large. He reached out, but instead of scratching, he paused.
The desert sun beat down on the Pakistani village, but the atmosphere around Jotaro Kujo was far colder.
"This is a receipt," Jotaro said, his voice a low rumble. "For everything you’ve done today."
Jotaro had endured it all. He had served as a human bridge over a puddle, acted as a footstool, and even endured a physical beating without raising a finger. Through it all, he remained silent, his cap pulled low, scribbling something intensely into a small notebook.