Joey opened his eyes to find a strange pink face looming before him.
Its owner had catlike upright ears, skin the color of bubblegum, and vertical white pupils gleaming inside pink irises. Nothing about that face looked remotely human.
But Joey wasn't surprised.
After all, he had coexisted with the stand's master in soul form for several years now.
He knew the name and power of this bizarre creature all too well.
A Stand.
Killer Queen.
And its master—Yoshikage Kira—was the very soul Joey had spent years consuming from the inside.
Everything made sense now.
Several years ago, Joey had gone to sleep like normal, only to be torn from his body by a shrill ringing that drilled straight into his soul. When he next opened his eyes, he was in spirit form.
He didn't know what being in "spirit form" really meant. He just knew if he didn't eliminate the other soul occupying the same body, he'd be erased forever.
So he attacked.
But unlike Joey's own instinctive leap, the other soul was instantly shielded by a new presence—
A muscular figure with pink skin, a champion's belt around its waist, and a face as cold as a porcelain doll.
And behind it stood a man with a bowl-cut of black and white stripes. Joey recognized him mid-leap.
Yoshikage Kira.
The villain from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Part 4—the office worker obsessed with peace and quiet, yet always hiding a murderous "last resort" under his sleeve. Joey's favorite anime antagonist.
Panic rose in Joey's chest.
He was just an ordinary guy. No match for a Stand User.
But there was no time to hesitate.
He saw Killer Queen raise its hand toward his, ready to activate its ability. Joey knew: one touch and it was over. He'd lose. Instantly.
His brain spun in overdrive. No escape. No plan.
But just as despair gripped him, Killer Queen vanished—blinked out of existence mid-motion.
Joey's body slammed straight into a shocked Yoshikage Kira.
And in that second of impact, Joey felt it—Kira's soul was weak.
He realized his own soul, whole and intact, far outclassed Kira's fragmentary spirit—drained by years of Stand usage and division.
Joey crushed him. Drained him. Kira's power flowed into him like a siphon from a leaking corpse.
The high-pitched insect chirps that had filled the void abruptly cut out.
Joey felt sleep weighing his eyelids down. He blacked out.
Before losing consciousness, he caught a final glimpse: Killer Queen on a grassy plain, locked in a silent standoff with a starving wolf.
When he opened his eyes again, everything had changed. The wolf, the grass, Killer Queen—all gone.
He was in a simple wooden house. His hands were busy cooking.
Confused, Joey passed out again.
This repeated several times over the years. He would awaken briefly, see flickers of daily life, then fall back into the dark.
But with each awakening, he understood a little more.
His soul was still draining Kira's. And not just Kira's—there was a third soul in the body, weak and fading. Joey assumed it must belong to the body's original owner.
That soul was practically negligible. It never took control. Only Kira's spirit acted during Joey's periods of unconsciousness, as if Kira hadn't noticed he was slowly being devoured.
This parasitic state lasted five years.
Until today.
Joey opened his eyes and knew—Kira was gone. Devoured.
This body, this life, this world—it all belonged to him now.
Joey.
Yet to his surprise, Killer Queen remained. It hadn't vanished with its original master. Instead, the Stand had been passed on—to him.
But Joey hadn't inherited Kira's memories.
He didn't know if Kira had arrived in this world the same way—pulled by that soul-splitting screech. He didn't know what Kira had learned about this place while he'd had control.
Still, from his few windows of awareness, Joey had pieced together a rough picture.
A primitive mountain village. No technology. Everything rustic, from household items to the lifestyle.
In his mind, he'd begun to accumulate knowledge—language, survival skills, local geography, even memories of people in the village.
They didn't feel like Kira's memories. They came from the original body's soul—its last echoes.
Why those memories lingered while Kira's didn't, Joey couldn't explain.
He shook his head. It didn't matter.
The first thing he needed to do—understand his current situation.
Which meant understanding the severed hand on the table in front of him.
God, what a beautiful hand.
Slender, pale fingers. Deathly white from blood loss. Glistening with droplets of water—Kira must've doused it—making the skin look tender and dewy, like freshly peeled scallions.
Joey swallowed, reaching out to touch it.
Cold. A little stiff. The skin felt wrong—decay, probably. The woman it belonged to had been dead too long.
He flinched. A shiver ran through him.
Suddenly repulsed, Joey flung the hand away.
It thumped across the floor with a sick rhythm before coming to a stop.
His face went pale.
Before he could dwell on it, a knock pounded at the door—Bang! Bang! Bang!
Startled, Joey snapped his gaze toward the hand. He didn't hesitate.
"Killer Queen!" he commanded.
The Stand appeared.
With a single touch of its index finger and a dramatic push of its thumb, it activated its ability.
The pale hand vanished in a flash of silent flame.
That was Killer Queen's first bomb—one of its signature techniques.
Joey exhaled in relief. Killer Queen still worked. That meant he had power. He had options.
From outside the door, a man's voice shouted in fury:
"Yoshikage Kira! I know you're in there! Open the door! If you don't, we're coming in ourselves!"