Doppio wasn't sure why he was having such crazy thoughts. 'There's no way that fortune teller could be right about me... Could he...? I mean... Maybe he was just trying to swindle me for money...' Riding in a local taxi, he decided to check his phone only to find it broken. "Must have gotten broken when my bag got run over." In fact, Diavolo had broken the phone in anger when DeKurliss spoke about planting the seed of doubt in Doppio. He got distracted when he saw the building in the picture.

"This is it," Doppio said to the driver, handing him the money, "I'll stop here." He got out to the building and looked at the photo. "This is where the boss said they'd be coming. I should stay here and wait." He looked at the scenery. "The Emerald Coast. It was thirty years ago that a wealthy Indian visitor moved here, entranced by the beauty of the coastline, which he described as a land outside the passage of time. Sounds appropriate, since the place has hardly changed in almost three-thousand years."

Indeed, the land had once been conquered by the Phoenicians, then the Geeks, the Saracens, and the Spaniards. Though none bothered to develop the land, merely extract tributes from it. But the native people, dwelling in homes seemingly carved from the island itself, still hold a spirit of quiet rebellion. "Hey sir," the driver said, "I think there's a problem here." He pointed to the meter, and Doppio raised an eyebrow. Somehow the meter was showing one more zero than what he had seen earlier.

"What is all this?," Doppio asked, "I know for a fact that the journey from here to the village doesn't warrant that amount." "You trying to say I'm ripping you off without any proof?," the driver demanded. Doppio narrowed his eyes. "Buddy, I am not the sort of person you want to mess with." The driver sneered at him and grabbed him by the collar. "Like I'm afraid of some two-bit tourist." He then wheezed as Doppio planted his fist in the driver's gut.

He then held him up by the skull. "I'm not some two-bit tourist," he rebutted, "I'm the number two of Italy's largest gang. And right now you're in the way of my job." He slammed the man into the hood of his own taxi. "So... What was that about the cash I owe you?" "It's fine...," the man said meekly, "There must be some mechanical failure with the meter or something... I'll have it looked at later." "Glad we understand each other," Doppio said.

He sighed as the taxi drove off. 'I'm normally too cowardly to pull something like that off... What got into me?' Just then, out of nowhere, he started making a sound like a phone. Not realizing he was making it, he looked at his phone in confusion. "Uh...," he said as he held up the phone to his ear, "Hello...? Oh, boss. I guess the phone wasn't as broken as I thought. Yeah, I just got here. I'm up on the hill where I can get a good view." 'For now, we shouldn't concern ourselves with Buccellati's group,' came the boss's familiar voice, 'There should be someone else there.'

Carefully, Doppio looked around and spotted a familiar face on a nearby cliff. "Shit... Looks I'm the one being watched right now. That's Risotto." 'He must have discovered the photo when he trashed the apartment. If we don't eliminate him now, it will be a great hindrance to us when the others arrive. Lure him in close, within two meters. Then my King Crimson can kill him.' "Got it," Doppio said. Meanwhile, Risotto Nero, former leader of the now defunct La Squadra, was observing Doppio.

Risotto's life in the underworld was set when his cousin once removed was struck and killed by a drunk driver. Risotto was fourteen at the time. Although the justice system did its job and had the man sentenced to several years in prison for manslaughter and hit and run, Risotto did not feel it was enough. And so, it was four years later that Risotto tracked the man down and assassinated him. A few years later, Risotto passed the test and entered Passione as a Stand user.

He and his group were tasked with taking down politicians, American gangsters, and anyone else that proved troublesome to Passione's work or existence. However, they were only called to task when needed, and no one else in the gang trusted them. That was why they formed such a tight-knit group. They came to grow dissatisfied with their lot, never rising above what they had as they expected. However, the boss must have anticipated this, because when two of their members tried sniffing for clues to his identity, they were executed.

From that point on, La Squadra was kept on a tight leash. But then they learned that the boss had a daughter. It seemed simple at first, but they didn't anticipate that the boss would pit them against such powerful Stand users. Buccellati, Narancia, Fugo, Abbacchio, Mista, and the two new members Giorno and Rarita. One by one they took down all of Risotto's team, the only people he could consider friends. He observed Doppio as he scrambled to gather his belongings, and heard the odd conversation he had with himself.

He scoffed. "I... Will not approach you." Doppio looked around at the sound of Risotto's voice, quickly dodging as a switchblade barely missed him. Doppio looked confused, especially when sever pain shot through his mouth and blood started seeping out of his head. He then saw the familiar figure approach. "R... Risotto... Bad timing for you to be here..." They both heard the sudden sound of an engine, and not that of a car.

They both turned to see Aerosmith in the distance, which meant Buccellati's team had just arrived on the island. "Shit...," Doppio muttered, "The last thing we need is for this to be a three-way brawl." "Then I'll start by taking you out quickly," Risotto declared. Doppio got a surprise as he started vomiting up razor blades. "What the hell...?" "I don't who you are," Risotto admitted, "But if the boss sent you here, you're obviously someone he trusts implicitly. Which means... I may be able to find what I'm after from you."

Next is a major battle. Rarity's not the only one who's a match for Diavolo.