Jonathan

What should you do when a gay priest touched you in your sleep? A: Fight back. B: Go back to sleep. Or C: Do as he asked you to.

C was never the right answer, but it was the one I chose. As with any good rogue-like game, this run was my first, and death was certainly imminent. But damn, if I was going to make it tough for him.

Enrico Pucci, DIO extraordinaire. From the bits I could remember of the manga, he was brutally overpowered, in a part which had stronger than usual stands. Hell, the part's Jojo had a pretty run of the mill stand compared to everyone else, except maybe Foo Fighters, but she was plankton. This meant that engaging in a frontal assault on him would be suicidal, more so with the stand that I was given.

A Man without Love. It was relatively simple in all regards, with an ability so easily understandable, that it could have been in part three and nobody would bat an eye. Similar to Yoshikage Kira's third bomb, I could rewind time. That was it. See into the future, with the only limit being when I obtained it, but at a heavy cost. There was no such thing as a free lunch, after all, and with the stand not being my own, it was only amplified.

Some part of me, whether it be physical or mental, would be removed with every use. Eventually leaving me a husk of my former self. Yes, I did have meta knowledge I could abuse to trick the holy man with the unholy plan, however, that could only last me so long.

My presence alone in this universe has no doubt wrought fate a sunder, causing ripples and butterfly effects to occur where they weren't to be. Fuck, I might not ever get to see Disney World! Oh wait, copyright might have changed that. Shit….

Cartoon and new abilities aside, there was going to be a lot on my plate. And-

My brain flared, a sudden burst of information entering my mind, a chill crawling down my spine. Wait, if Pucci gave me this stand with full knowledge of what he was doing, then that would mean… He was planning to steal my memories from the very beginning. Which would grant him privy to all my knowledge of the series!

A silent panic ensued, nerves firing at random as my breathing halted entirely. I was working on a time limit here; and I would need to cause just enough differences in canon to fuck with the timeline. No mess, less stress. Easy as that.

Speaking of, the first main character had arrived. It was the dead of night by this point, and one of the nurses wheeled in a sleeping Ermes, her body writhing about, as the medical staff did all that they could to keep her temperature down. In the end, they simply shrugged, leaving a wet towel over her forehead, and inserting a needle -connected to an IV- on her right arm.

Now, I had to wait, a good chunk of time at that. My wounds have yet to heal, and the woman wouldn't be up for a few more days. The wait wasn't going to be pleasant, but I had to deal with it. Do your best on the first run, and further develop it in the next. That was a good rule for any aspiring rogue-like player. However, with the prospect of death looming over my shoulder, the only thing on my mind, was doom and gloom.

Whatever, I'll just have to sleep my worries away. I'm sure nothing can go wro-

[Divine Sponsor "Primordial Dreamer" Agreed with your sentiment and has chosen to grant you a skill.]

'This… well this changes things.'

[Rest] (Active)

Laying on any soft, comfortable surface allows you to sleep for an indefinite amount of time. During which, hours, days, even months flow like water passing through a river.

Minimum Number of Hours to Keep Skill: 56 Hours Per Week

Nothing like a healthy sleep schedule to keep me motivated! Thank you, random god! I'll be sure to use this very often! 'Rest.' I mentally activated, a clock appearing before me, ala elder scrolls. I don't know whether this ability was meant to bypass sleep, or to do the action for longer, either way, this would cut the time significantly. And if game logic followed through to this scenario, then most of my knife wounds should be healed by the end of it.

Though, seeing as this was Jojo, that was going to happen either way.

…

Five whole days. It seemed that the staff were a tad worried that I'd been in a coma for five straight days, not once did I move during that time, nor did I respond to any stimuli, or at least, that's what the clip board near my bed said anyway.

And just as I thought, all of my wounds have suddenly vanished, as though they weren't even there in the first place. A grand miracle in science and human evolution! Forever left to be unexplained. Stitches were still there, sadly. That's going to be a pain for the next month or so.

Over in the distance, near the barred entrance, a feminine voice groaned, the person's body fluttering with awakeness as the noise quickly turned into that of anger. Ermes' body straightened, her legs moving to stand up, only to be restricted by the needle lodged in her arm, her mouth clicking shortly after realizing this.

Trying to make conversation in the dark room, I hummed a familiar tune, her head turning to my direction and squinting. "So what happened to you? Personally, I was just stabbed by some fuckwad, but there's nothing I can do about it now, is there?"

In return, she said nothing, keeping silent as she instead shifted her attention to her hand, likely having discovered her stand ability. She stared at it for a few moments before the sound of tearing could be heard in her general direction, followed by a cry of pain. "This… this sticker! When I put this sticker on something it turns one object into two… and when I take it off…"

The next moment, a loud crash and a hard slap boomed throughout the room, even reaching my ears, an amused expression warping my face, my eyebrow raising in surprise. Do actually people voice out their thoughts, even in the presence of strangers, or is this a special case?

As if on cue, a janitor walked on by, sweeping the floor with his mop, whistling the night away. Seconds passed, and the same slapping noise repeated itself, this one louder than before. The man was out for the count. His crime? Stealing if I remember correctly.

And from out of the cleaner's face, two disks spun outward, like a DVD player, except weirder. Quietly getting up from the hard sickbay bed, I tiptoed the piss-stained floor and stalked just behind the user of KISS, observing as she plucked the lower of the pair, jolting back when she noticed my presence behind her. Picking up the second off the ground, I gave her a bored look and walked way. She somehow managed to start yet another monologue all by herself, but I wasn't able to hear any of it this time, her voice substantially more hushed than before.

Shrugging my shoulders, I sat back down on the bed, ignoring the approaching footsteps echoing throughout the room. "What was that? You got something to say to me?" She aggressively provoked, her nostrils flaring slightly. "And what are these disks? Seems like you know a thing or two about them. Say, why don't you tell me, and you might not end up like the last guy, capiche?"

Without another word, I drove the object straight into my head, flashes of another man's memories and experiences flashing in my mind as the woman before me tried to shake me out of it.

The visions shown to me were… peculiar to say the least. From what I could remember, there were two different types of discs Whitesnake could steal, the first were memories, and the second were stands, manifestations of a person's soul. I mean, it would only make sense, if someone were to inherit another's soul, that would come with the various experiences that he or she experienced throughout their lives. A problem arose with this, naturally. My own stand, Man Without Love, was antithetical to this idea. But, I'd be willing to chalk it up to the system handling things in the background, for now at least.

[Integrating Stand: Highway to Hell]

Holy shit, this is fucking hilarious, like a slapstick comedy. Yet, at the same time, it felt so real. A well of guilt, shame, and humor built up in my core, a weird mix of emotions breaking the grin on my face. I mean, this man was just cleaning his gun and accidentally shot a woman on her way down from an attempted suicide! You can't make this stuff up. Only in fiction man, only in fiction.

Still, it was weird viewing a one-off villain's life through their own lens, no bullshit or anything. It was like watching a movie, you felt separated from the characters, but connected all the same. A mix of reality and fantasy pulling you from both directions.

There was no real way to describe it, without discussing several abstract thoughts anyway. Sadly, I was no philosopher, nor was I a psychologist, therefore, I had no right to talk about such without sounding like a fool.

Without warning, I snapped back into reality, my eyes drawing thin as the disc leapt from my face and onto Ermes' chest, her arms bouncing around to catch it. "Don't do what I just did. I mean, you could, but whatever happens next is on you. I have no responsibility over your actions. Besides, you're an adult."

Her eyebrows furrowed, sight capable of boring holes into my body. Her vision shifted, first on me, then to the disc, then back at me. This cycle repeated for what felt like hours, a sweat dropping from our heads due to either the tension, or the Florida heat.

"You're hiding something, aren'tcha?"

"Believe me, or not. As I've already said, you are responsible for your own actions." I dismissed, turning to look at the unconscious suicidal man, his body writhing for a moment, joints seizing and muscles cracking when they shouldn't have. And soon enough, he was dead, my expression indifferent to his death. May that bastard rest in peace.

For her part, Ermes eyes drew thin, keenly staring at my face with a seriousness only found in boss battles with a second phase, it was weird, that much anyone could tell. Eventually, she gave it up, tossing her hands into the air and shaking her head. Finding the endeavor fruitless. "I'm going back to sleep, but if you do any more of your weird shit, I won't hesitate to mess you up, got that, white boy?"

My eyelid twitched, the slight on my race irking me. I was asian for crying out loud! "Whatever, it's not like I can do much with these wounds either way." With that, she was out of my hairs, for now. And with a minor villain defeated, I suppose today was quite good. Yes, quite good indeed.

[Path to Love] (Subskill)

Share the burden with another. It is caring, after all.

[A/N: I was bored, did some stuff. And now, I decided to make it sorta like one of those Manhwa systems, with the gods watching this shit with a bucket of popcorn. Don't worry, the skill Jonathan will receive won't be too op. Anyways, copy and paste stuff below.

Anyways, if you find anything wrong in the fic, let me know. I would love to hear your thoughts, opinions, and what I could have done in place of what is present.

Also, join discord server. I have one.: discord . gg / eTb2kPab4z

I also have a pa- tr eon at pa- t reon / balls1124 I'm not telling you to join it, but it would be nice

With that being said, be good people!]