"Miss Trish, the Boss himself ordered us to pick you up."
The blonde teenager looked very young, but the revolver in the hand of the man behind him, wearing a red checkered hat, was real.
"Huh?" Trish's green eyes widened in surprise as she stared at the blonde, red-eyed man, swallowing hard. Could it be that her father, whom she had never met, really knew that her mother had been hospitalized for overthinking, and had finally sent his subordinates to pick her up?!
Immediately, the classroom erupted into chaos.
"Those guys are gangsters, right! That's a real gun, much cooler than your dad's hunting rifle."
"Oh my god, everything Trish said was true."
"Her dad really is the Boss of Rome."
"Is Trish going to inherit an estate or become a big star?!"
Looking at her classmates' envious gazes, what was this feeling of a dream coming true? In that instant, she became the focus of the entire class, like a kettle on a solar cooker. Those gazes seemed to burn her, exactly like the feeling of being a big star she had always dreamed of.
Trish seemed to be a natural performer. She took a deep breath and slowly walked towards the unfamiliar blonde young man. She truly was the center of attention, recalling everything she had imagined now coming true.
She paused, looking at Moorna, her archenemy who sat in the front row, with a mix of surprise, anger, jealousy, and envy. With a childish sense of mischief inherited from her father, she stopped and looked down at the beautiful blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl.
Then, she quickly picked up a glass of water from the desk and poured it over Moorna's head, completely drenching her beautiful makeup!
Moorna was so surprised she forgot to scream, her face distorted. Only when she felt the water running down her head did she remember to scream—
"Ahhh!!!"
Moorna immediately stood up, roaring like a shrew, and raised her palm to slap Trish's face, but stopped abruptly in an instant.
A dark gun muzzle pointed at her, making her tremble all over.
"Watch your behavior!" Johnson Joffrey's gun was aimed at the girl with the ruined makeup.
Trish smiled, then left with immense arrogance. Johnson Joffrey and Mista held back their laughter, following behind Trish. The black-eyed teacher wanted to say something, but Mista immediately turned around and pointed his gun at her, mimicking Johnson's tone: "Watch your behavior!"
The two of them held back their laughter and followed Trish. When they reached the deserted stairwell, they finally burst into laughter.
"Hahahahaha!! I'm dying of laughter! Johnson, your acting is too good!" Mista laughed so hard he squatted down at the stairwell.
"Hahaha, you're not bad either, Mista!"
Mista suddenly changed his expression, raised his gun into the air, and said seriously, "Watch your behavior!"
"Pfft hahahaha!!"
Trish turned around, looking at them in disbelief, "What are you two doing?!"
"Hey, hey, Johnson, it really felt like James Bond 007, it was hilarious, how was my acting?"
Johnson Joffrey laughed and gave him a thumbs up, saying, "Very cool!"
The two of them laughed and fell into each other.
"Hey, hey!" Trish stomped her foot and said in surprise, "Didn't my father send you to pick me up?"
Mista, having laughed enough, spun his gun skillfully and pointed it at Trish's head, saying, "Of course not. We're here to kill your father."
Trish's eyes widened at the sudden turn of events, and she said, on the verge of tears, "Then you guys just..."
"We were just messing with you," Johnson Joffrey said expressionlessly.
"Alright, Trish, come with me." Trish looked at the dark muzzle of the gun, her beautiful dream shattered.
Mista and Johnson pushed Trish into the stolen van. A chill emanated from inside the van, making one shiver. It made Trish tremble with fear; she was only thirteen, and she looked at the two gangsters in front of her with terror.
She slowly began to understand that these two evil gangsters were probably kidnappers.
Johnson Joffrey drove the car directly across the playground, causing the physical education students to scream and scramble out of the way. His overly arrogant behavior terrified Trish, making her press the window switch hard, but it was completely useless.
She could only hug her legs, curled up in the seat, a habitual gesture inherited from her father.
"Johnson, are you a god?" Mista asked excitedly, "How did you think of coming to the school to catch her?"
"Bucciarati arrived in Cagliari first," Johnson said expressionlessly, "He would get to her house before us, so it would be meaningless for us to go there. We had no choice but to temporarily give up on her mother. But on the way, I saw the mayor's speech from yesterday, and for that kind of event, schools would be closed. So today, Saturday, they must have make-up classes."
Mista was utterly impressed and speechless, but he quickly composed himself, gave a wicked smile, and said in a low voice, "Actually, I thought of it too."
Suddenly, Johnson Joffrey slammed on the brakes, stopping abruptly in the middle of the playground, his expression slightly changed.
"What's wrong?!" Mista, not wearing a seatbelt, almost flew out. Trish also hit the seat in front of her.
"Their reaction is quite fast."
"What?!"
"That guy, Giorno Giovanna, is here," Johnson Joffrey paused briefly, then immediately reversed the steering wheel, turned around, and prepared to leave through the school's back gate.
"Huh?"
Johnson Joffrey suddenly made a 180-degree turn, plunging back into the students' playground, preparing to leave through the back gate.
"Johnson Joffrey is in this school," Giorno suddenly stuck his head out the window, frowning, and said with certainty.
"Are you sure?" Bucciarati asked while driving, "It seems they thought of coming to the school before me."
"Giorno found him, so he should have found us too," Abbacchio said, "I'll go to the classrooms first, you two continue to track them."
"No, Abbacchio, what if you encounter enemies?!"
"Yes, Bucciarati makes a good point," Giorno echoed, and he could only nod.
"I hear the sound of a car; they are ahead. Trish Una has already been taken away."
Bucciarati drove directly into the school gate, then slammed on the brakes. After they were pulled back by their seatbelts, Giorno immediately understood the meaning, stuck his head out, and said to the surprised security guard holding a stun baton, "Sorry, we won't harm the students. Please tell us where the back gate is?"
The elderly security guard had never used a stun baton. With real terrorists arriving, he was flustered and at a loss.
Giorno frowned, knowing his previous words were useless, so he changed his tone and shouted, "Didn't you hear me? Don't you see we're in a hurry? I'm asking you where the back gate is?! Do I have to beat you for you to tell me?!"