At the moment when the fire was ignited, whether it was Fogh or Naranga, they really felt like they were going to die.

Unprecedented despair hangs over my heart, and the memories of life are retraced in front of my eyes.

They remembered their childhood, their lives, the Bugarati that changed their lives...

The death procedure is almost complete, and the next step is to get the bento directly.

However, just like the toilet paper handed by the brothers from under the baffle when the legs were paralyzed, the favor of fate always came unexpectedly in extreme despair:

Because of a small sewer manhole, they survived.

"Fate, on our side!"

Fugar and Naranga, who narrowly escaped their lives, were so excited that they couldn't help themselves.

The two of them were stuck face to face in the narrow manhole, their expressions comical and ridiculous, but their eyes were shining.

Because, the balance of victory has been completely tilted in their favor:

"Aviation Smith!"

Aerosmith, who had just launched a round of attacks, quickly turned his flight attitude in the air, and the next moment he would aim his gun at Giorno's body again.

"Purple Smoke!"

A terrifying purple monster appeared five meters in front of Fogg.

As Fogg and Naranga crawled out of the manhole, it lunged towards Gioruno.

The situation has returned to the way it was at the beginning when the two of them bullied more, but it was far more crushing than at the beginning.

After all, despite the severe injuries from being hit in the shoulder by a bullet, Giorno had already exhausted most of his strength when he set the grand trap just now.

Sweat hung all over his forehead, and his brain tingled slightly.

In the face of the fierce gods and demons who launched a counterattack, he didn't even have time to breathe and hesitate, so he had to desperately turn around and run backwards.

"Do you still want to escape?"

"No Camel No Horse!"

Fogg took a step and drove the purple smoke in rapid pursuit, with a kind of excitement in his voice for the rest of his life:

"The trap is failing, my stamina is lacking, and my shoulder is still spurting blood..."

"You are so broken, there is no way that you will have a chance to escape!"

It sounds arrogant, but it's an indisputable fact.

Giorno was already running away as fast as he had been, and the sharp pain from the wound on his shoulder had affected his movements.

Before Aerosmith's bullet could shoot down his back again, he didn't even have time to finish his dodge before he was once again grazed in the thigh by the tiny but powerful bullet.

Blood poured out of the wound on his thigh, and the muscles on the surface were torn apart.

Giorno's steps faltered instantly.

But he didn't give up, and he didn't even let out a subconscious cry of pain.

"Hold on a little longer... Hold on a little longer..."

Half of his body was soaked with blood, but Giorno continued to flee desperately despite his injuries.

In this way, he was under the machine gun fire of the Sky Aviation Smith, and when he was pursued by Ziyan at a rapid pace, he desperately escaped from a distance of dozens of meters.

He had already run far out of the fire, and a short distance to break through to the intersection where Apache was stationing.

Pity...

There is a limit to the agency of consciousness, and the golden spirit cannot change the fact that Giorno is seriously injured, physically exhausted, and has lost a lot of blood.

He was still caught up in the end.

Purple Smoke, the humanoid monster that could unleash a deadly murderous virus, had aimed his iron fist at Giorno's back.

"Egg roll head..."

"You're already within my range!"

The repressed irritability in Fugg's heart came out of the column under the ups and downs of the situation.

He shouted frantically and happily:

"Under my murderous virus, let's die a miserable death!"

As soon as the words fell, the virus capsule growing on the bone of the purple smoke fist suddenly burst.

The killer virus erupted from the ruptured capsule, quickly polluting the air around Purple Smoke into a deadly lilac.

With the swing of the purple smoke fist, the lilac smoke also whistled out along with the chilling fist wind.

In the next moment, these killer viruses will touch Giorno's back, soak into his skin, and multiply rapidly in his body, inactivating his cells, deteriorating his blood, ulcerating his muscles, rotting his bones... Died horribly.

However, at this moment...

Giorno seemed to accept his mortal fate, and without even making a symbolic resistance, he suddenly stopped his escape.

Not only did he not continue to run, but he even turned around and faced the fist of the purple smoke that lingered with a lethal poisonous mist.

And to the surprise of Fugar and Naranga, who had pursued him alongside him, was that...

There was no trace of fear on Giorno's face, there was only calmness:

"You... I really thought..."

In the face of the rushing purple, his voice was still calm.

At this moment, time seems to stand still:

"Didn't I think about the situation where the trap might fail?"

"W-What?"

Fogg and Narangazi changed color in unison.

They sensed that something was wrong from Giorno's indifferent tone, but the most terrible thing was that they themselves couldn't see anything wrong at all:

How can you lose with Purple Smoke riding face?

Your face is only 17 centimeters away from the murderous virus, can you still miss me?

And so, under the nervous and puzzled gazes of Fogg and Narangana, Giorno began his commentary:

"I was a little concerned from the beginning..."

"Your purple stand-in has a range of five meters, so it stands to reason that you can stand anywhere within five meters of you."

"But whether it's chasing me or being attacked, you can't help but let your stand-in stand at a maximum distance of five meters, as far away from your companions and body as possible."

"I guess..."

Giorno looked at Fogg with a playful expression:

"I'm afraid you're doing this to prevent yourself from being hurt - that lilac poison gas is also effective against you!"

"W-So what?"

Fogg still didn't understand what was wrong with him:

"Could it be... You still want to beat me with my poison gas? ”

"It can't be!"

Even though he said that, Fogg couldn't help but feel terrified by the unknown.

He could only hint at his calmness with words:

"Impossible... Impossible! ”

"The poisonous gas of the purple smoke will be inactive in the sunlight if it spreads out of a range of two meters at most, as long as I keep my distance carefully, how can I be swept into it if I am five meters away!"

"It's you... You egg roll head..."

"Your face is only a little away from the poison gas, can you give it back to me?"

"Yes."

Giorno replied lightly:

"You should know it yourself, right?"

"The purple gas only has a range of two meters, not because they are limited by some rules, but because the few seconds before they become inactive are only enough for them to disperse two meters away."

"So..."

"In the same three minutes, someone can run a full 1,000 meters on the track and field, and someone can only gasp for breath on the second lap."

"Just because there is a certain amount of time does not mean that the distance they will run will be certain."

"That is to say..."

His cold gaze pierced through the purple smoke and was firmly nailed to Fogar's face:

"I just need to find a way to speed up the spread of the poisonous gas, so that they can run the five meters before it fails, and they can attack your body!"

"And this way to speed up the poison gas is..."

"Wind?"

Fogg replied.

As the owner of Purple Smoke, of course he knows the characteristics of his stand-in ability:

"Indeed, whenever a strong wind blows, the poisonous gas can be spread farther with the help of the wind."

"But how could I not know that?"

"In order to prevent the wind from blowing poisonous gas on me, I have been carefully observing the direction of the wind on the battlefield every time I fight!"

"Now..."

"You and Purple Smoke are both five meters to my east, and there's a slight westerly wind blowing from west to east on the road—"

"This kind of wind direction will only help me blow the poison gas to you!"

Fogg roared hysterically, as if a louder voice would make him forget the very bad feeling in his heart.

However, Giorno completely shattered his self-delusional illusion:

"Really?"

"Are you really sure that the west wind will blow next?"

"Of course!"

Fogg gritted his teeth and said:

"It's not a special area here, how can the wind direction change..."

"Wait..."

His expression froze instantly.

At this moment, he figured it all out.

The fire behind it, which has not yet burned out, is still spreading a scorching heat wave around it.

However, the heat swept on Fogg's spine like a freezing wind from the Arctic.

"The fire... Heat the air..."

Naranga still had a blank expression.

But Fuge, a primary school bully who was admitted to college at the age of 13, was already muttering to himself with a shocked expression:

"The hot air expands and rises, creating a chimney effect... And then according to the principle of thermal convection... Fire Ground Surface.. will produce..."

"Strong centripetal gusts!"

His face was as pale as paper.

And Giorno raised his hand and snapped his fingers unhurriedly:

"East wind, up!"