Part two of the previous chapter. And on time, too. Kinda helped that a good chunk of this chapter was done before I had to split it. A good decision if I do say so myself. So, you wanna see how all this plays out? Then what're you waiting for! Read on ahead!

Ch. 35
You Will Pay Tomorrow

JANUARY 14TH, 1989
16:52
GIZA, EGYPT

When Joaquín and his group came to the cafe on the outskirts of Giza, he had no intention of gambling. He didn't want any of his friends to gamble either. It was a dangerous game to be playing, especially against someone as talented and crafty as this D'arby character. For all they knew, he would have robbed them all of their money, or worse. But given their situation, they had no choice. He asked Jean Pierre to take him up on his bet, hopeful that he would win such a simple gamble.

But, as he feared, it was worse than losing money. The Frenchman lost the bet, and as payment, he lost his life. His soul was now trapped within a poker chip, and his body was left lifeless. It was all Joaquín's fault. They could have done anything else, like using Hermit Purple to help divulge the information they needed. But he took the bait. He allowed Jean Pierre to bet. And now, he had to bear the guilt of allowing one of his closest friends to die to a cheating Stand user.

Before he could let loose, Mohamed beat him to the punch with an uncharacteristic fury. "Y-You bastard," he shouted, letting go of his fallen comrade and lunging at D'arby. He lifted him by his collar and prepared to strike, the cat bounding of his master. The threat was met with indifference from the gambler. As for the other patrons, the ruckus caught their attention. They didn't move, not wanting to get themselves involved, but that didn't stop them from glaring.

With even more annoyance added to his anger, Joaquín turned to them all and shouted, "If none of you are gonna fucking help, then look away and mind your own fucking business!" And so they did.

"You jest", spat Mohamed, trying his hardest to keep his cool. "This is your idea of gambling?! That cat was not just any other cat, but yours! And yet you cheated!"

"Cheated," asked D'arby coolly. "You really think so? If men can't see through the cheat, then men can't see through the failure. I see gambling the same way I do a relationship… A relationship centered around deception, that is. And the first to cry loses… So, are you going to kill me with your bare hands? Very well, go ahead… That is, if you're okay with sacrificing his soul…"

Mohamed knew better than to just blindly risk Jean Pierre's life like that. They all did. Conceding to the gambler's threat, he pushed him back to his seat with a defeated growl. "Fine… But you will not leave here unscathed…"

"September 22nd, 1984, 11:15 PM. Do you remember what you were doing that day?" Nobody said anything, and Mohamed looked confused as to why he'd ask this. "I remember. I was in California, gambling with a man named Stephen Moor at the time. And what you said is the same thing he said to me." D'arby pulled out a coin book and opened it for them to see, filled with red, green, and blue checkered poker chips. All of them had faces in their center.

He then pointed to one of them. "That man's right here."And he was right. Beneath the chip of a male face was a label that read "Stephen Moor". Next to him was a Mrs. Moor, and below him was a Garie Moor. "His wife and father," answered D'arby, as if he sensed them looking at the others. "If you want to reclaim Polnareff's soul, then y'all have no choice but to continue gambling with me.

This bastard's no joke, thought a shocked Joaquín. All those souls he's stolen… He's no normal gambler… He'll do any and everything to make sure he wins… And if we're not careful… he'll take us out one by one… without even having to lift a fucking finger..! He turned to his fallen comrade and helped him into a chair, making sure he wouldn't fall over. Jean Pierre… We'll do our best… We'll set you free..!

"So what'll you do? If you're feeling nervous, you can just go home… leave Polnareff with me…" D'arby chuckled and pulled out a Hershey bar. "Well, why not have a drink and give it some thought. How about some chocolate?"

Before Joaquín could say anything, Joseph stormed to the table and swiped absolutely everything off it. Only the bottle of scotch was left, along with the chip with Jean Pierre's soul and a glass he slammed onto the table. He then poured out the bottle until the glass was full. Or rather, until it was ready to spill its amber contents out of it. Once he was certain there was enough, Joseph rested the bottle to the side.

"M-Mr. Joestar," asked Della worriedly. "You're… not gonna take him up on his offer, are you..?"

"Do you know what 'surface tension' is, Barbie," asked Joseph, ignoring her and staring intently at the gambler.

"D'arby," corrected D'arby with a slight edge to his tone. "My name is D'arby. That's the force that allows the surface of a liquid in a glass to swell up but not overflow… Why do you ask?"

Joseph reached into his pocket and pulled out several coins, dropping them around the glass without letting even a single drop overflow. "The rules are simple. We take turns dropping coins into the glass. The one who makes the scotch overflow loses."

"Oh god, he is," exclaimed Della.

"Hey, jijii," muttered Joutarou.

"N-No way," shouted Mohamed. "Mr. Joestar!"

But their worrying did not stop him from proclaiming, "I bet my soul!"

"Good," exclaimed D'arby.

Joaquín went up to his grandfather and asked, "Abuelito, are you serious about this? He cheated Jean Pierre out of his soul, he'll do the same to you. Please, let one of us-"

"No," he barked. "I know he's a cheater. That's why I chose this game. None of you worry. Just watch him. You too, Joutarou."

D'arby looked to have no qualms with this at all. "Okay. That's fine by me. I'll take you up on your bet. But before we begin, may I inspect the coins and the glass?" Feeling he had the right to see if he was cheating, Joseph allowed him. The gambler took a moment to look over the glass and count the coins. There was nothing suspicious about his investigation, but it didn't settle well in Joaquín's heart.

"Give us your word," he said suddenly.

"My word," asked D'arby curiously."

"That you'll give Jean Pierre back when you lose. Otherwise, we'll find another way to make you return him. We're not leaving him behind, no matter what we have to do."

"Joaquín Trejo, I am a gambler… and proud of it. I always pay for what I lose. But… I can assure you, I won't lose…"

"We'll see," said Joseph, taking the glove off his good hand. "Put your coins in."

Surface tension was a strong force. Joaquín had learned all about it back in eighth grade science, having done class experiment on this. The more volume was put into the liquid, the higher it would rise. But this wasn't a tall, full glass of water and pennies. This was a scotch glass and Egyptian coins. Given how close the liquid was to spilling, and by the size of the coins and the glass itself, Joaquín guessed it could handle up to eight or nine coins. That is, if they were careful putting them in.

D'arby's first turn started with a self-inflicted risk for the gambler. He had asked if he could put in more coins at once, which Joseph agreed to. So he took five and demanded for complete silence so he could concentrate. Slowly, carefully, he eased the coins into the scotch as much as he can before letting them drop in. Their presence made the liquid rise slightly, but nothing spilled over. Not even when it was rippling. He was lucky, and brave.

On Joseph's turn, he took it easy and prepared to drop one coin. But unlike D'arby, who he had been keeping an eye on for cheating, his grandfather was the one with a trick up his sleeve. Or rather, his thumb. He saw it without the use of Preciosa, a wad of cotton between his thumb and the coin. His grandfather pressed it, making it leak some fluid into the already full glass and add more volume to it.

That hypocrite, he humorously thought. And he was telling us to watch the other guy for any cheating? Pretty clever, Abuelito.

"This kind of stuff is bad for the heart," sighed Joseph, who successfully dropped his coin in. "Alright. Your turn now, Obi."

The gambler snatched his opponent's hand, the others standing straighter and ready to act. He looked more annoyed in contrast to the old man's stoic expression. "It's D'arby," he growled. "Do not make that mistake again! My name is D'arby! It's not Obi or Barbie! Got it?!"

"Sorry." But his apology wasn't sincere. He had done this on purpose, following a similar tactic Joaquín tried on Martika that led to her defeat. Either he really takes Sun Tzu's tactics to heart or he's a natural-born gambler. Doesn't matter… He's got this in the bag. "It's still your turn, D'arby."

The man took a moment to compose himself, nibbling on some of his chocolate. He also seemed to be planning his next move as well. After a few seconds, he stood up and moved around to his right of the table, saying, "It's a bit difficult to do it from here because of my shadow. Is it okay to do it from here?"

"Wherever it pleases you," answered Joseph.

Everyone watched with bated breath as D'arby focused on his coin over the glass. Nobody moved, not even the other patrons who Joaquín knew were still watching them. A moment of silence passed before D'arby suddenly said, "'The scotch's surface tension is already at it's limit. It's impossible.' That would be what you're thinking, right? Well… I beg to differ…" And he dropped his coin in, the liquid swelling, rippling…

And finally resting. To everyone's shock, nothing spilled over.

"BULLSHIT," screamed a disbelieving Joseph as he shot up from his seat. "That's bullshit! How's it not overflown?!"

"Pardon," asked a smug D'arby. "What do you mean, 'How's it now overflown'? As you can see, I still did it… Now, your turn, Mr. Joestar."

He swiveled to his grandsons, as if begging to to know if he cheated. However…

"H-He didn't make any funny moves at all," said Joaquín, just as confused as his grandfather. "He didn't cheat… And our Stands had been watching him the whole time..!"

"Just now," said Joutarou, unable to contain his mild confusion either, "this guy put in his coin fair and square… There's no doubting it.."

But that doesn't make any sense… Abuelito made sure that he'd win… That D'arby's next coin would have made the booze spill over… There was no more room for another… So how..?

"Go ahead, Mr. Joestar," called D'arby, resting his chin on his hand and waiting with pretentious impatience. "And do it quick! Or are you waiting for the scotch to evaporate first?"

Joseph swallowed the lump of nervousness in his throat and shakily brought his next coin to the glass. He didn't look focused anymore. The prospect of losing and the impossibility of D'arby's last move was weighing heavily on both his mind and heart. He was panicking. He had run out of tricks to use. "I-I can't believe it," he moaned. Joseph had reached the end of his rope.

"ABUELITO, NO!"

Osiris had reached behind him and dragged out his soul, the old man collapsing back lifeless. The coin dropped and finally broke the surface tension, spilling the scotch.

"In his heart of hearts, Joestar admitted defeat," explained D'arby victoriously. "That's why I'm able to remove his soul! I've won this gamble!"

"Mr. Joestar," shouted Mohamed and Della.

"Jijii," shouted Joutarou.

Even the soul of Joseph was stunned, a single tear leaking as he was dragged away. "Polnareff… I'm sorry," he apologized. "And my daughter, Holly… I couldn't save you…" The soul was then molded, stretched and clapped into yet another, poker chip, this time with yellow checks on it. They had lost yet another one of their own.

Satisfied with his victory, D'arby picked the chips up and displayed them mockingly the group. "Two chips," he happily stated. "Now, let's keep gambling! That is, so long as you wanna keep playing with me. Otherwise y'all can just tuck your tails between your legs, abandon these two, and run for it."

"ENOUGH," roared Joaquín, finally flying across the table and pinning the dirty gambler to the ground. He was livid. His own grandfather was dead, his own soul stolen, and this man had the audacity to flaunt his victory in front of that man's family. D'arby had a death wish, but Joaquín, as much as he wanted to, couldn't grant it. "GIVE THEM BACK TO US NOW, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!"

"Don't you get it," asked D'arby unworriedly. "If you kill me, then you end up killing two souls this time. And I'm certain you don't wanna cost your grandpa his life, do you?"

"FUCK YOU!"

The bartender, having enough himself, left his counter and barked, "Hey! What's going on! If you cause any more trouble here in my store, then leave!"

To which Joaquín, without turning away, shouted, "I SAID MIND YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS!" His rage was enough to spook the bartender into back away to his counter, leaving the two alone. "I swear, I will kill you…"

"Joaquín, that's enough," Joutarou said calmly. "Besides, I found out how D'arby won."

His rage stilled for a moment for him to look back at his brother, who had dumped the glass of scotch and coins. He tilted it for him to see. There was nothing out of the ordinary, except for tiny brown smear near one of its edges. Beneath Joaquín, D'arby chuckled and said, "You noticed too late, Joutarou."

His curiosity slowly quelling his anger, Joaquín stood up and took the class to inspect. He touched the smear and brought it to his tongue. "Chocolate," he asked, before looking down at the Hershey bar that fell when he tackled D'arby. "Wait a minute, when did he have a chance to put chocolate under here? He couldn't have done that unless-" And then it hit him. "Unless he touched the glass… "

"It was before the game started," explained Joutarou. "He stuck it under there when he was inspecting the glass and coins."

"Didn't you know already," asked D'arby as he sat up. "You can't call it cheating if you don't notice it"

Joaquín was trying to piece everything together in his mind. "So… He put a piece of chocolate underneath," he slowly said. "That meant… when he put it there, everything was tilted away from him. The scotch's tension was tilted to one side, enough to get in the first six coins… But it's melted now… When it melted, the tension was flattened and equalized… That's how D'arby got in that last coin..!"

Della, who had stood in silent shock beside Mohamed, asked, "But… How did he get it to melt..?"

To which Joaquín pointed to the slowly sinking sun. "D'arby was lucky to have been sitting right in the light of the sun. The shadow he cast kept the chocolate cool until he moved out of the way. When he was taking his time concentrating on getting the coin in, he was actually waiting for the it to melt. That sun's hot enough to do it… That bastard's a lot clever than we thought…"

"I agree," said Joutarou as they all watched their enemy stand up and dust himself off. "Clever and lucky… But that's gonna run out soon…" He then pointed to him and barked," Alright, D'arby! Take out your trump card! We're playing poker now."

"Interesting," he said excitedly. "Poker's one of my best forms of gambling!"

As much as he trusted his brother's skills in the game, he couldn't help but feel worry. They had just lost two of their own against a very dirty gambler. "Joutarou," whispered his older brother. "Are you really gonna go through with this? I know you're good, but… this guy's dangerous. One of the most dangerous we've fought, and he doesn't even need to resort to violence…"

"I know that," Joutarou whispered back. "But I can't afford not to try…" He then turned to him and flashed him a reassuring smile. It was rare for him to do this, but coming from him, it meant a lot. "Don't worry, niisan. I'll save them."

He took his grandfather's seat at the table, whose lifeless form was taken by Della and Mohamed and propped in another seat beside Jean Pierre. His attention was focused solely on D'arby, who had pulled out a deck of cards and set them for everyone to see. "Before we start this game, I want to try something for a second. First, shuffle the deck."

The gambler obliged, splitting the deck in half and shuffling with the expertise of a casino dealer. One would think that he was a former casino employee just by how fluid and practiced his technique was. Once he finished, he rested the deck between him and Joutarou.

"All shuffled," stated D'arby. "What're you trying to do?"

"Pick one near the top. Just flip over any one of those cards you want. Only you can see them." When he did so, he pulled out a stack of nine. "Let me guess, six of hearts?"

Judging by the gambler's raised eyebrow, Joutarou was right.

"I'll tell you the order of cards from the top down: five of spades, queen of diamonds, jack of spades, ace of hearts, seven of diamonds, six of clubs, king of clubs, two of diamonds."

And he was right again. All nine cards, the six of hearts included were laid out before everyone, shocking them all. Except for Joaquín.

"Looks like they're all right," he said, gazing hard at D'arby. "Didn't Dio tell you about Star Platinum and Preciosa? Not only did he see every card, but so did I. Our Stands have incredible vision and tracking skills, powerful enough to even distinguish which tree an idiot jumps into. Every last one of them… We could read all of them from top to bottom and backwards."

"Very interesting," said D'arby sincerely. "However, if that's all, then I just need to be careful not to let you see me cut the deck."

"Don't you get it," coldly asked Joutarou. "It'll be hard for you to cheat any time soon. I refuse to let you get away with anymore."

This presented quite a challenge for a seasoned cheater. Despite the nervous sweat beading on his forehead, a spark of excitement glinted in D'arby's eyes. All he could growl is an understanding "Good." as Joutarou pulled out his own pack of cards he had bought not too long ago. It still had its security seal on it, meaning that it hadn't been opened and tampered with at all. There would be no cheating this time, not even from him.

The cards were taken out and laid out before them. As it should be, the joker card was first, and the cards were all in order and normal. Meanwhile, D'arby had set out a what looked like the bible on a drink cart, riffling through the pages without even looking at it. If I had to guess, wondered Joqauin, I say he's trying to guess where he lands. Maybe he can tell where each card is just by touch and memorization. That's not a bad trick…

And once he stopped, he looked at it and smiled, confirming that he guessed correctly. He set it aside once Joutarou had put the cards back and offered them to him. "Okay," he exclaimed. "Open the game!" He then took half of the deck and showed off a ten of hearts. Joutarou took the other half and got a seven of clubs. They were deciding who would get to deal out the cards

"Looks like I'm dealer," he smugly stated "Heh heh… Now, I just have to shuffle at an angle neither of your Stands could see." And so he tilted the cards, deluding himself into thinking nobody could see. But the brothers saw everything. There was no workaround for D'arby. Once he finished, he offered Joutarou to cut the cards, which he did in silence. The cards were dealt out, first to his opponent, then to himself. This happened twice. And upon the third card ready to be dealt to Joutarou…

Star Platinum suddenly appeared and broke D'arby's right index finger backwards, making him scream in distress and pain.

"Oh my god," exclaimed Della, taken aback by the sudden attack.

"W-What happened, Joutarou," asked a confused Mohamed.

"That motherfucker tried to cheat, that's what," growled Joaquín, who saw everything. In D'arby's good hand, there was a card sticking out from under the top card meant for Joutarou. "He was gonna deal him that card and save the first for himself! And if he did that…" He flipped over the opponent's cards and the top card as well. All three of them were kings.

"He would have given himself a winning hand in the first round," pointed out a shocked Della."

"Gambler's call that a second deal… Guys who practice it long enough, like this scumbag, are harder to catch cause of how fast their hands are… But we can spot cheating from a mile away…" Joaquín snatched the cards away from their agonized dealer. "Don't fucking underestimate us, D'arby..!

The man glared up at Joutarou and painfully growled, "W-What a terrible man..! How could you break my finger..!"

To which Preciosa flung one of the cards with such force that it stabbed the table close to the gambler's hands. "Be thankful my brother only broke your finger… Had I chosen to play you instead, your entire hand would have been cut off..!"

This turn of events led to the conclusion that in order to have a fair game, none of them should deal. They needed a third party, someone who had no involvement with D'arby. None of the bar would do, from what he could see. But luckily, as he looked around, he spotted a young boy practicing with a soccer ball out on a hill outside. "Mohamed," he called to him. "Can you bring that kid over here to deal for them?"

As he went out and did this, the gambler took out a cloth and began to bind his fingers together with both his free hand and teeth. "Good," he growled again, looking pained from both the injury to his fingers and, perhaps, his pride. "As I expected… Cheating uses a psychological blind spot… You can't spot any cheating with just sharp eyes alone… But you boys… saw through my second deal… I underestimated you... No matter who it is, you never underestimate your opponents…

"I'll reflect on this lesson… I accept this broken finger as my punishment… But now, I challenge you in this game with all my heart and soul, Joutarou… Before today, my biggest game was in May 17th, 1986… At the time, I went against a Japanese man named Shouzou Mayama … I robbed him not only of eight Tokyo real estates, but his soul… He might have been a rich man, but he was a powerful man..! Just like you..! I'm no longer here to fight you on Dio's behalf… I'm here to fight you…

"... as a born gambler!"

He tossed the chips of both Joseph and Jean Pierre just as Osiris manifested behind him. The Stand then chopped and sliced the chips before they all split into six pieces each, landing back on the table in perfect columns.

"W-What was that for," asked Della.

"Have you ever played poker before, miss?" She shook her head. "Of course not. Poker's where, if you think your cards might lose against your opponent, then you can step down from the game and fold. Basically, you must bet a participation fee of just one chip. You can't compete in this game with just two chips alone. Once he wins back six chips, I'll return one of the souls."

"You better promise…" She then approached the table and glared coldly at him. She lacked the same fury Joaquín had for him, but that did not stop her from threatening him. "Because if you lie again, cheat again, if you don't hold your end of the bargain at all… you'll be dealing with all of us… Understand..?"

D'arby smirked. "You've got quite a fire to you… It's no wonder Joaquín likes you… But like I said, I'm fighting for my own sake, not Lord Dio's…. Now, Joutarou," He looked back at the youth. "If you want to gamble, then I suppose I can offer you some chips to use. However, I still haven't heard those words yet…"

Joutarou didn't hesitate to say, "I bet my soul."

"Good." He pulled out several stacks of blank, white chips and offered six to him. The others were put to the side in stacks."These snow-white chips represent your soul. When I take all six of them, your soul is mine." In the distance, Mohamed was in the middle of talking the innocent boy into being their impartial dealer. With a nod, he agreed with him and followed him back to the poker table. Joaquín handed the deck to him, which he shuffled and dealt to the two until they each had five cards.

"As an entry fee," said D'arby, throwing one of the chips to the table, "I 'll pay with one Polnareff." In turn, Joutarou bet one of his own before they both took their cards. "Let's play, then."

Poker. The world's most dangerous battle. A simple game of wits on it's own, it becomes a complex psychological war when bets are made. Players needed the sharpest of wits and the stoniest of poker faces to get anywhere in this game. One slip up could cost a player everything. While Joaquín was a good poker player, his younger brother was much better. He had better luck and a perfect, unreadable poker face that even Joaquín couldn't read. He was virtually unbreakable.

And a perfect match for D'arby.

"Now," said D'arby as he looked at his hand, right before tossing in one more chip. "I'll change two. And Joutarou. Remember, those white chips represent six pieces of our soul. Think carefully before you play."

The boy Mohamed brought over looked confused an worried, but he was reassured by the fortuneteller not to worry about them and to just deal the cards normally. Joutarou raised another chip and changed out three cards, and while Joaquín couldn't see his brother's eyes, he knew his gaze was a fierce one. Even D'arby took notice.

"How frightening… that expression of yours… I wonder if you have a good hand… Let's wait and see. Maybe bet against one Polnareff, don't you think?"

"Call," grunted Joutarou, the two tossing their chips into the proverbial pot. Both men had bet three chips each, but the gamble was more deadly for Joaquín's brother. You've gotta fold, Joutarou, he thought, looking down at his brother's hand. He had a two pair, eights an nines. You might be able to beat him, but if you lose, you'll lose half your chips. And you need three chips to even play poker… You're already walking on thin ice by doing this.

"Alright, Showdown, Joutarou!" Joutarou showed his first, the two pair that he gambled half his chips on. But D'arby had a better hand. "Too bad..! Two pair, jokers and queens!" And he had those very cards when he laid them against the table. What hurt the most about his victory wasn't that they were halfway to losing Joutarou, but because there was no cheating involved.

The gambler chuckled and swept up his winnings, a smug smile on his face. "That was quite dangerous," he said with gloating relief. "I came so close to losing that round."

"Shut up," growled Joaquín. "You can still lose, D'arby. One false move and Joutarou can mop the floor with you."

"Is that right?" The gambler leaned back in his chair and smiled up at Joaquín. "I'm not a rookie player. I've played poker all my life, longer than any of you boys ever had. I've practiced night and day to make sure that when I play, I always win. No losses, no mistakes. Now," his attention returned to Joutarou, "shall we continue?"

"Next game," he said, tossing his chip in. "Deal." D'arby did the same as the boy gave them their next hands.

"This possibly won't just be your next game," said D'arby with a chuckle, checking his cards, "but it'll be your last. I'll change one card." After saying this, he noticed something about his opponent's cards. As did the others. Once they were all dealt, he didn't pick them up. Not even to peek at them. "What's wrong, Joutarou? Quickly look at your cards so you can decide whether you want to change or fold."

But he didn't move. "My cards… are fine as they are."

Joutarou, what on earth are you planning..?

D'arby held a hand to his ear. "I'm sorry, what did you just say now? I don't think I understood what you said. It sounded like you said they're 'fine as they are'."

"It's exactly as I said. They're fine as they are. I'm playing with these five cards."

"I know that!" His coolness melted again, the same annoyance he had when his name was mispronounced cropping up again. "What I wanna hear is why you haven't even looked at your cards!"

But again, he was unmoved. "They're fine as they are."

"Don't be ridiculous! Now answer me! How do you think you can compete if you don't even feel like turning over your cards!"

His question went unanswered. The youth turned to his elder brother and asked him, "By the way, Niisan, I have a request."

"A request," repeated a confused Joaquín. "Sure, but why haven't you looked at your cards?"

Not even he got an answer. "It's a serious one. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, of course, but-"

"Joaquín… Do you trust me?"

It was an odd question to ask, especially since the answer was obvious. Of course he trusted him. He would take a bullet for him. Joutarou was his family, and despite the short amount of time he had known him, he placed his entire trust in him. To ask this now, especially when their trust was an unspoken agreement… Joutarou must want Joaquín to do something very risky, yet very important. And he had a feeling as to what it was…

Without any worry or doubt, he told his brother, "I trust you with my life."

"What the hell are you talking about," growled D'arby. "I told you to answer me!"

"Stop pestering him," Della spat. "He doesn't have to tell you anything!"

Joutarou pushed over the last of his chips before grabbing six more from the ones D'arby left on the table. "In addition to that," he calmly said as he slammed the stack down,"I'm betting everything on my brother's soul."

"What?!"

It was only D'arby who vocalized his shock. The others eyes fell on Joaquín, even their dealer. But he felt nothing. He knew this was what his brother had in mind. "You know something, D'arby," he asked. "You're one tough son of a bitch. I'll give you credit for effortlessly stealing my friend and Abuelito's soul. I would have fought you, but, to be honest, I'd only end up losing. My anger would only make me impulsive and fuck up. Our situation would take a turn for the worst.

"But my brother, on the other hand… He's perfectly capable of taking you on. I don't know what he's got planned, but whatever it is, I trust him. And I've done so ever since we started this journey. There's nobody who I would trust more than my own family. That's why I'm letting him wager my own soul against you."

The gambler only stared at the brothers for a moment before his smile returned. "It that so," he asked. "Well then, I guess the tension's gotten you both of and made y'all crazy." He then snapped at their dealer. "Boy! I said to change one out! Hurry up and do it!"

Indeed the tension was high, more so than it had been earlier. Both the brother's souls were on the line. But despite what their opponent thought, their heads were clear. Joaquín's agreement to let his brother gamble on his soul was not out of impulse, but out of pure trust. No matter what happened, It was that kind of trust that could bring down any of Dio's henchmen.

With his card traded out, D'arby made his wager. "In addition to the three you lost, I'll call with all six of Polnareff's chips." All nine of them were pushed to the pot. "But, in addition to that! I raise Joseph's chips as well!" And their grandfathers' stack was pushed in as well. All fifteen of his chips were wagered. A surprising and dangerous move, for if he lost this hand, he would lose everything. Just like the brothers would. But there was one slight problem.

"Hey, wait a minute," chimed in Della, "You can't do that! Joutarou's got nothing else to bet on!"

"There's still our souls as well," Joaquín pointed out. "It's obvious that he wants Joutarou to call as well. But… I'm not gonna ask anyone of you to risk your own souls unless you want to. In the end, that's your decision. We can't make that for you."

"There's no need." She stepped up to the table and took a handful of chips from the sidelines. "Because if you want someone's soul to be bet on, then that's fine by me. If Jojo can place his life in his brother's hands, then I can do the same."

"As will I," said Mohamed, who copied Della and set some more chips down. "I will bet my own soul as well."

"There was an excited gleam in D'arby's eyes, as if he had been expecting this. "Good," he said silkily. "You have some very admirable friends, Joutarou. Or rather, foolishly admirable. So what will you do? Will you accept their offer to put their live into this game? I can make another call, just to even things out."

Joutarou simply nodded., pushing their chips to the pot. The gambler then took out two chips from his collection and summoned his Stand Osiris to slice them up into six as well. "Stephen Moor and Shouzou Mayama. They're not truly dead. Neither are your friends. They're in a state of… shall we say, suspended animation. They won't die unless their souls have been destroyed. If you do win this game, their souls will return back to America where they belong."

But this still presented a problem. "We're back to square one, D'arby." pointed out Joaquín. "You called to break even with Mohamed's added soul and then raised another soul. I've got a feeling you're after another, right?"

"You're a sharp boy," said D'arby honestly. A wicked smile graced his face. "Are you sure you don't wanna play me instead of your brother? In any case, you're right. While y'all just handed me an easier victory, I've got my sights set on one more soul. All I want is some written proof. My Stand can handle the rest."

"Whose are you talking about, then" But Joaquín knew. They all had to. Who else would he want his brother to bet on except him?

The gambler smiled and proudly said, "I'm talking about the soul of your hospitalized friend, Kakyouin!"

And the reason he asked this was pretty obvious. D'arby seemed to think that daring his opponent to wager the soul of his closest friend would break him. Would make him fold and lose. But he didn't know the boy at all. He underestimated him several times during this match, and he was doing it again. And for his smug misconception of Joutarou, he would fail.

"Alright," Joutarou complied stoically, putting another stack in. "I'll bet on Kakyouin's soul, too."

The gambit had failed. And D'arby's conceit melted to shock. He hadn't anticipated for him to agree without an argument. Nobody but Mohamed disagreed. "J-Joutarou! Neither he or his soul are here at all!"

He didn't even look his way when he asked " So you think I'm acting selfish?" as he took out a pen and his notepad to write down his IOU. But there was something wrong with what he said. It sounded as if he had something in his mouth. And Joaquín could have sworn he saw Star Platinum fade away, if only briefly.

D'arby seemed to have noticed too. "Hey, Joutarou," he called out and pointed accusingly. "What did you do just now?!"

"What'd I do just now..? What do you mean..?" Looking at his brother, he noticed a thin, white stick jutting from between his lips. It wasn't a cigarette at all. Whatever it is, is that what Star Platinum did? Did he give him something too fast for D'arby to see? Sure feels like it.

"Just now… H-Huh..?"

"What's wrong?" He took out the stick for a moment, revealing it was a lollipop he was sucking on. "You're looking a little off." It didn't take long for Joaquín to realize just what he was doing. Joutarou was bluffing, trying to subtly make D'arby panic. He wasn't trying to shock him with suddenness and speed, but to make him think that he was cheating. That in the instant Star Platinum moved, he might have swapped out some cards. It was an interesting tactic, one even he wouldn't have thought of.

But despite this, with all their souls on the line, everyone except the brothers were slowly starting to get nervous. Even the dealer and the patrons, who watched with rapt attention. If Joutarou lost, their adventure would come to an end. And yet, they all trusted the boy. He accepted everyone's souls and bet on his best friend's, and he hadn't even broken a sweat. D'arby on the other hand, had broken out in a nervous sweat. Psychologically, he was losing

There was silence as he contemplated his next move. Beside him, their dealer stole a lance at him, just as nervous as the rest of them. But he wouldn't look back, the gambler glancing at his cards for a moment before facing his opponent again. But when he did, he saw that, to his shock, Joutarou had another thing suddenly brought to him:

A glass of juice, which he was nonchalantly sipping from.

"Y-You! That juice! When did you-" Having had enough, D'arby slammed his fist on the table. "Y-You bastard! You're just mocking me! Fine, then! Showdown! My cards-"

"Hold it," interrupted Joutarou. "I've still got the right to raise."

"RRRRRAISE," trilled a panicked D'arby. "But you don't have anything else to bet on!"

But he did. And as he slammed another stack of chips onto the table, he made his ultimate gamble. One nobody was prepared for.

"I raise my mother's soul."

"WHAT," everyone shouted. Especially Joaquín, who was the most shocked of them all.

"NO! NO FUCKING WAY!" He grabbed Joutarou by the collar of his gakuran and practically screamed in his face. "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?! THAT'S MOM'S SOUL! WHY'RE YOU MAKING A CRAZY BET LIKE THAT?!"

His brother didn't even flinch or react. He still spoke calmly as he had been throughout this battle. "I came all the way here to Egypt to save her. Even if I bet on her soul, she wouldn't complain about it. Not when its her own son doing it."

"But that's still-"

"So what..? She's in a coma and dying… Betting on her soul would be no different than that. And if we lose, then that's that. We can all still be together, even if we're just chips."

Joaquín's couldn't believe brother's logic. It was insane, but in the end, he was right. With no further argument, he swallowed, let go of his brother and nodded. He had permission to bet on her.

"Then it's settled," said Joutarou, turning to the quaking gambler. "But, D'arby… now you have to match my bet of my mother's soul… That is… you will tell me the secret to Dio's Stand!"

His reaction was immediate, toppling backwards out of his chair and shrieking. This could only mean one thing. Holy shit… This bastard… This bastard knows, Joaquín realized. But… if he talks, then he'll be branded as a traitor… Dio would end up killing him… Of course he'd be panicking..! He then looked at his brother's cards, still face down since they were dealt. Joutarou… What're you planning..? Are you gonna make him fold..? Are you gonna play your cards..?

I trust you… But… do you trust your own hand..?

The gambler was a gasping mess. The dealer boy was quaking as well. And everyone else could do nothing but watch everything unfold. It was all coming to a head.

The youth spat out his lollipop and shouted, "Now! Call or fold! Say your next words clearly! D'ARBY!"

This was it. D'arby was cornered. No matter what option he chose, he would lose. Folding meant receiving the beating of a lifetime. Calling would result in death at the hands of his master. There would be no escape for him at all. His only option was to bite the bullet and face his fate. It took a second, but the gambler slowly rose to his feet and approached the table like a trembling zombie. His cards were crumpled in his hands.

"I-I-I am," he stammered, "I-I am… the strongest p-professional g-gambler..! I'll d-do it..! I'll ca… I'll ca… Ca… C-C-Ca…"

He couldn't say it. Every attempt to say those words, to challenge Joutarou and call his bluff, came out as a terrified wheeze. The stress was making him a quaking, sweating, wheezing wreck of a man. Even his hair was suffering, turning lighter and grayer with each attempt to speak. "C-C-C-C-Ca- Ca… Ca…" He was having a hard time breathing, desperately gasping for air to speak. But try as he might, he couldn't spit it out. His call would never come.

And then, it was over. His head drooped. His eyes had rolled into the back of his head. And one final wheeze of defeat left him.

D'arby had cracked and passed out on his feet.

"No way," muttered Joaquín. "Your bluff beat him..!"

"Y-You won," announced Della. "You won, Joutarou!"

The gambler, unable to keep standing, fell onto the table and brought everything crashing down with him. Chips and cards went flying everywhere. But the ones that contained the souls of Jean Pierre and Joseph turned back to smoky visions of themselves that floated back into their own bodies. They slowly came too, alive and well. They had been saved.

"The pressure was just too much for him," said Joutarou. "In his heart of hearts, he folded to my bet. Because that counts as him admitting defeat, everyone's souls have been released." Two more souls seemed to fly out of the bar, the ones belonging to the two D'arby had defeated years ago. Looking down at the twitching gambler, Joaquín caught a glimpse at the cards he had and blanched.

"Four kings," exclaimed Mohamed, who saw the cards as well. "T-This man had a hand with four kings!"

That's a powerful hand, thought Joaquín. The only thing that could beat that is four aces, a straight flush or a four pair with the joker card! Joutarou, what the hell kind of cards did you have?! But when he picked up his brother's hand, neglected until now, he stumbled back into another table. I-I don't… No… No fucking way…

The dealer looked at the hand and gasped, "I-I thought so! It's what I dealt him! Garbage!"

Joutarou let out a sigh of relief. "No matter how Star Platinum tries to do it without being seen by D'arby, it would have been impossible to cheat. It looks like my strategy to bluff him into submission was a success. But my cards were crap… Yare yare... Had I known this, I would have panicked."

He couldn't believe his brother. "P-PANICKED," he screeched. "YOU MEAN YOU DIDN'T EVEN KNOW?! JOUTAROU, YOU BET ALL OF OUR LIVES ON A COMPLETELY SHITTY HAND AND COULD HAVE LOST! HAVE YOU GONE INSANE?!"

"Maybe. Speaking of which…" He turned too the boy, who froze before Joutarou's hard stare. "Kid, you said you knew. That means you knew what my cards were?"

Having been caught, the boy ran away screaming in fear of getting hurt. It looked like he had been working with D'arby the entire time, rigging the game in his favor. As for the gambler, he was finding the revelation to be utterly hilarious, for he flew into a fit of manic laughter. His chip-filled book flipped open on its own accord and spewed out multiple wisps of smoke that took the shape of all the souls he had robbed. They were returning to whence they came, or perhaps to the afterlife…

"Hey, everyone," he called to the escaping souls in his manic state. "Let's all play some mahjong! Backgammon is fun, too! Dice is also thrilling! No matter what, I'm still the best! Ha ha ha ha!"

"You really cracked him good," muttered Joaquín, having calmed him self. "A bit too good. I doubt we can get anything out of him at this rate. Not even about Dio's Stand." At the mention of The World's ability, D'arby clutched his head and screamed in fright. "See what I mean?"

"Still," said Joutarou as their friend and grandfather were getting up, "he was a strong enemy. He tried to take us all out at once. That guy was a pretty big deal…"

So they were all back to the beginning, with no information on where Dio's hideout was. But their victory wasn't an unwelcome one. They had defeated yet another Stand user and escaped without any injuries. Joaquín couldn't have been more thankful for that.

"Just promise me one thing, Joutarou," he said as they all got into their truck. "Never make a crazy bet like that again. Otherwise, I'll give you something to panic about."

Tomorrow, their search would continue.

Tomorrow, Holly would have two days left to live.

~DANIEL J. D'ARBY: RETIRED~

Damn, this chapter was so fun to do. Out of all the fights in Stardust Crusaders, this has always been one of my favorites, and I'm glad I got to write it. It's just so intense, like any poker game ought to be. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Look forward to the next one, we're almost to Dio!