Chito's schedule was razor-thin. She didn't even raise her head when Joey stepped into her office—just cast him a single glance before diving back into the paperwork mountain spread across her desk.
Her appearance stood out. Her nose—brown, moist, vaguely canine. On her long green hair perched two perky dog ears. Likely decorative, Joey thought.
Round glasses perched on her face, matched with a dignified, tailored outfit. Together, it gave her a look of calm intelligence and sharp precision. Her focused expression, the way she handled her documents—made one hesitate to interrupt. A presence you'd rather admire quietly.
"Sorry to disturb. I have some questions regarding... souls," Joey began without delay.
Chito's time was valuable, and he wasn't here to make small talk.
"I know who you are. The one who survived a 'Chime' attack. So? Where does it hurt? You need to name the illness if you want a clean kill."
Pen in hand, her gaze through the lens pierced straight to Joey's core.
Joey hesitated—then stepped forward.
"I trust you. So I'll share Chime's secrets.
But I need your promise—you won't reveal them to anyone else, at least not for one year."
He was stating what was already obvious. The fact that Chime had secrets was something he'd silently signaled just by walking into her office.
Whether he admitted it or not, that alone was easy to guess.
And he didn't mind—Chime having secrets wasn't a secret. Its written records were still few and fragmented. Survivors of Chime attacks? Rarer than unicorns.
What worried Joey wasn't suspicion—it was attention. The kind that might bring busybodies sniffing around and digging where they shouldn't.
A year would give him room to move, room to disappear—especially if he ended up leaving Mobius Lake for good.
"Agreed," Chito said without hesitation.
"Mizaiston and Piyon already mentioned you. Nob and Morel put in good words.
Most important? Sambika mentioned you too. So I suppose I can trust you, right, Joey Joestar?"
There it was—a test of allegiance, slipped into casual phrasing.
But Joey didn't flinch. He'd already chosen his side long ago.
"Of course. I fought in the purge team. My position has always been clear."
He stood squarely with Netero's legacy—one of the old guard.
Technically, that made him a conservative within the Association.
Though in truth, he wasn't political. Becoming a Hunter was just a way to make things easier—it opened doors, legitimized his presence, gave him tools. Nothing more.
Still, it was clear Chito already viewed him as one of the Association's own.
No surprise—he'd been tied up with them since day one.
Her desk even had his Hunter application form sitting in a neat stack of papers.
She nodded and dropped the subject.
"Then let's begin."
Joey stepped forward and held out a handkerchief.
"This is a piece of Chime. Its skin—after death."
"Posthumous aura?" Chito muttered, brow furrowed as she took the handkerchief and felt the energy flowing from it.
"Right. But... is it really dead?"
He'd long suspected the skin might still harbor a soul. Neither he, nor Kite, nor Biscuit had been able to confirm it—or draw out its aura.
But ever since capturing the piece that belonged to Geralt, Joey had developed a new theory.
What if it was a soul, not a mechanism, that blocked others from accessing the aura?
Chito nodded slowly, not confirming or denying, but her aura suddenly flared—thin and precise.
The moment her aura touched the cloth, glowing letters burst from it—strings of script dancing into the air.
It wasn't just data—it was analysis.
Joey recognized the color—it was Chito's aura, not the cloth's. She was mapping the object's traits in real time.
A goddamn appraisal skill, Joey thought.
Like a game's identify function.
What category would that fall under? Probably Specialist—and likely backed by serious oaths and restrictions. There was no way raw talent alone could yield that kind of clarity.
The trust it took to show this ability so openly wasn't lost on him.
She didn't have to show this. It might not even be her whole ability—but it was enough to show sincerity.
The data whirled into complex formulas and charts. Joey stared blankly, not even pretending to follow.
So he looked to Chito instead.
"Your theory checks out," she said simply. "It's not dead.
Once it absorbs enough aura, it enters a state of 'pseudo-revival.' Think of it as a hazard item."
With a wave, the floating script vanished.
"You planning to use it? I'd be careful.
Feeding it aura keeps it active, but once it reaches a critical point, it might revive.
And then? Who knows."
Joey processed her words.
"So... its soul never truly disappeared."
"Possibly," Chito said. "If such a thing as a soul exists.
We still haven't pinned down proof.
Even my ability only detects vital aura presence, not the soul itself."
"How do I use it?" Joey asked.
"See that glyph on the cloth? That's the key.
You'd need to engrave that Divine Glyph onto yourself.
Then you could absorb its aura."
She returned the cloth.
"This aura leans toward Conjuration. But Joey—don't waste your talent on hand-me-down hacks.
You've got the potential to go far. This kind of external crutch? Not worth the cost."
"And if you must use it, be precise. Get the glyph exactly right.
A single mistake could cause an unknown reaction."
"Thank you."
Joey stowed the cloth. Then asked his next question.
"Do you recognize the glyph?"
"No. That's Piyon's field.
Or Ging—he's a master when it comes to Divine Glyphs."
Joey nodded.
Chito's insight had cleared up a dozen mysteries. But as always, solved questions led to new ones.
Still, one thing stood clear now—Chime's remnants were dangerous.
That knowledge alone made the consultation worth it.
Now for the second issue.
He rolled up a sleeve and held out his arm.
"Can you check how many souls are inside me?"
Chito's eyes widened.
"Excuse me?"
A person should only have one soul. That was just common sense.
But curiosity flared through her aura.
She reached out. Her energy met his.
Joey tensed. The moment her Nen brushed against his, a creeping sense of violation overtook him—an instinct to strike back.
But a hand pressed gently to his chest—Chito's.
He looked up.
Her expression was pure focus. Serious. Gentle.
Her aura danced—read, processed, translated.
Floating script appeared between them.
"Hmm?"
Chito blinked.
Joey followed her gaze. Words flashed briefly:
"Emission Type."
"Atmosphere."
"En."
So his ability—Weather Report—had been laid bare.
But he didn't mind.
Weather Report wasn't defined by form—it was defined by knowledge. By creativity. The user mattered more than the technique.
Only weak point? His En was still under two meters.
Chito finally spoke:
"There is something inside you.
I don't know if it's a soul. But it's... sentient.
And from what I see, it doesn't seem hostile."
Joey took a step back as her aura withdrew.
"That's enough. Thank you."
It was the confirmation he needed.
That persistent voice in his head—the urge to go to the Dark Continent—wasn't his own.
It belonged to the Weapon.
And in that moment, when he thought I should avoid the Gold-Silver Ingots, he felt it—
A pushback.
The thing inside him didn't like that. And it let him know.
So it can hear me now, Joey thought.
No more pretending.
And suddenly—everything made sense.
At the beginning, when he'd somehow devoured the soul of the stronger, more dominant Kira Yoshikage...
How?
Kira was a Stand user. Stands were soul projections. Joey shouldn't have stood a chance.
Unless...
Chime had pulled a Weapon from the Dark Continent and shoved it into the body of a rural NGL boy.
But it had also pulled in two souls: Kira... and Joey.
The Weapon, recognizing Kira as the bigger threat, chose to help Joey eliminate him.
Once that was done, it'd consume Joey at its leisure.
Except—
When Kira seized the body, the Weapon lost its chance.
It couldn't challenge Kira alone.
So it waited.
And when Joey finally took full control—his soul had grown too powerful to devour.
His knowledge of the Hunter World, his resolve, his mental fortitude—
The Weapon lost its window.
Now? All it could do was whisper. Push. Influence.
Joey chuckled, then locked those thoughts away.
"Looks like your issues are sorted. That'll be 400 million Jenny.
Pay the beanhead clerk on the way out."
Chito had already gone back to her paperwork.
"...Huh?"
Joey stared.
He'd assumed Nob's referral covered the bill. How naive.
The green-skinned assistant handed him the receipt.
Joey paid through gritted teeth.
Knowledge really was the most expensive thing in the world.
The whole thing had taken maybe thirty minutes—and Chito had just made four hundred million.
"So... if carving glyphs lets me absorb cloth aura,
but I can absorb Wallet Aura just fine without glyphs—
does that mean I'm already engraved?"
Or maybe...
His soul was already connected to the Wallet.
He'd need to run tests. But first—
He needed Piyon to decipher the glyph.
Because messing with Divine Glyphs blindly?
Was asking to explode.
And if that glyph carried any kind of hidden secondary ability...
One misstroke could be deadly.