American comic: I, JoJo, am going to heaven!

(As usual, please vote with monthly tickets and recommendation tickets. Comments would be even better. Also, thank you to all my godfathers for your support. After an afternoon of gaming, I've successfully adjusted my mindset. Let's just do it!)

Jon pressed the power button on his phone with his finger, while tossing the perfect Aja redstone he had just acquired up and down with his other hand.

"Huh?" He pressed the buttons repeatedly, but the phone didn't respond. "Is it broken?"

"Damn it." Jon gasped, his expression still uncertain. "We're in the middle of nowhere with no communication equipment. This is bad."

After a brief moment of thought, he casually tossed his phone aside, but this toss inadvertently disrupted a certain balance.

Suddenly, the scene before him began to distort, and the grains of sand gradually disappeared in front of him like phantoms.

The entire landscape within the Demon's Palm is collapsing rapidly. After losing the support of the saint's remains, this small space begins to crumble.

"I see!" Jon's pupils contracted sharply; he understood. "This is an alternate dimension! So I'm not in the normal dimension at all!"

At that moment, he finally understood why no one could find the devil's palm.

Why did they inexplicably leave after finding it?

Why has a perfect Aja redstone never appeared in the long history of humankind?

It's because they were hidden in another dimension by the saints. No wonder the perfect Aja Redstone exists, yet there isn't a single record of it.

No wonder, this place can't be photographed by satellites, because it's not on the same spatial plane.

Furthermore, even if you follow the route, without certain conditions such as tornadoes, you simply cannot enter this godforsaken place.

"No wonder the Pillar Men couldn't find the Red Stone," Jon murmured. "So the Saints were prepared all along; he was anticipating this!"

"Little Right, am I right?" He raised his right hand. "Now I don't mind you staying inside my body."

His pulse beat twice, as if in response to Jon's guess.

As time passed, the space collapsed faster and faster, and suddenly, a cloud of yellow sand rushed towards us!

"Ugh!" Jon frowned and instinctively raised his hand to cover his face.

The strong winds still made it impossible for him to open his eyes.

When the sandstorm subsided, he lowered his arm, only to find that the scene before him had changed.

He returned to normal space.

"We're out?" Jon looked around. "But where is this?"

The desert stretched endlessly under the cover of night, yet no one could be seen, making it appear as a dead end.

As a survival show enthusiast, Jon is well aware of his current situation.

He had no food, water, shelter, and didn't even know where he was.

It's absolutely terrible.

But Jon has an advantage that others don't.

That is!

Even in dire straits, he maintained the optimism he inherited from Joseph.

"Heh." Jon sneered. "Even Pucci couldn't take me down, what's a mere desert?"

"Hmm..." He looked around and shrugged. "Although I do have nothing right now and am stuck in the desert."

"but.."

Looking up at the dim sky, he instead revealed a relaxed smile.

"At least the sun has set, so there's no need to worry about dehydration for now."

"But which way should we go?"

Jon lowered his head in thought, then suddenly his eyes lit up.

"It is said that the remains of saints bring miracles, leaving happiness to their owners and dispelling disasters..."

"Then..." He pulled a coin from his pocket: "Let fate decide my direction. Whichever way people point, that's where I'll go!"

Jon flicked the coin with his finger.

Ding--

The coin streaked through the air with a silvery light before spinning and falling onto the sand.

"Oh?" Jon bent down to pick up the coin, looking in the direction it indicated. "Over there?"

Looking at the endless sea of ​​sand before him, he swallowed hard, hesitated for a moment, and then took a step forward.

Everything around us looks the same, so it doesn't really matter which way we go.

Suddenly, the perspective widened—not far from where Jon had been heading, a pile of ruins stood starkly.

Traces of past life can still be faintly seen among the ruins, but it remains a mystery why this place was abandoned.

Just as Jon was relieved that he didn't have to be dehydrated, he realized that it was almost dawn.

The sky was beginning to lighten with the first hint of dawn, and it seemed that in less than an hour, the scorching sun would once again bake this desert.

Meanwhile, in front of the ruins of Saint-Vancouver.

Two ghost riders, their bodies engulfed in hellfire, are galloping across the desert.

As dawn broke, they simultaneously deactivated their transformations.

"Johnny..." Carter Slade handed a shotgun to the man. "I'll stop here."

"You'll have to rely on yourself from now on."

The old knight leaned slightly forward on his horse, his wrinkles etched with seriousness.

"Remember, stay in the shadows."

After saying this, he removed his hat and bowed, then elegantly raised his riding whip and rode away.

Horses carried the old 19th-century mounted policeman, galloping merrily across the desert.

That steed, tempered in hellfire, is still alive today, dating back to the 19th century.

Yet its body shows no signs of aging; it even considerately accommodates its owner's aging body, working perfectly without the need for reins.

Without a doubt, this horse is a truly extraordinary species!

"Old pal..." Carter Slay stroked the horse's mane and said with emotion, "You've really had a tough time all these years."

"I just don't know how many more days you'll have to stay with me..."

As soon as he finished speaking, he seemed to sense something and suddenly squinted his eyes, looking at the distant sand dunes.

On the sand dunes, a blue-green figure appeared and disappeared in the morning sunlight.

"What's that? A person?" Carter Slade's eyesight was failing, and he couldn't make out what it was.

But as he got closer, he finally saw the guy's true form.

It turned out to be a tall man who hadn't brought any supplies and was dressed in a very strange way.

Even more bizarrely, after spotting him, the person excitedly ran towards him!

"This is unbelievable!" Carter Slay was about to turn his horse around when the other party vanished into thin air.

Upon witnessing this unbelievable scene, Carter Slay instinctively stopped what he was doing.

He muttered to himself:

Where is that guy?

"Here it is."

When the deep voice sounded from behind, Carter Slade whirled around and met a pair of scarlet, wild eyes.

"you!"

Carter Slade raised his hand, and with a click of the cocking, he instinctively aimed his gun.

"Relax, old man," Jon said calmly, yet with a strange allure. "Don't get yourself into trouble, trust me."

"Who exactly are you?"

As Carter Slay finished speaking, he suddenly felt a lightness around his waist. He looked down quickly and was stunned.

"What?!"

Suddenly, the water pouch that was just at his waist was in the other person's hands.

As he watched Jon Snow tilt his head back and drink, he cried out, "That's my—water! Hey! Don't fucking drink it!"

"Old man!" Jon threw the empty water bag back, his eyes fierce. "Didn't anyone teach you not to bother other people while they're drinking water?"

"Phew, looks like you're no ordinary person."

Carter Slade slowly lowered his gun and hung the water bag around his waist.

"At your speed just now, if you wanted to kill this old man, you probably would have succeeded already."

"Stop talking nonsense." Jon shook his wet hair. "Tell me how to get out of this hellhole."

"East..." Carter's expression suddenly changed drastically. "Oh no! There's something wrong with the contract! That bastard Johnny!"

"contract?"

Jon followed his trembling finger and saw that the ruins in front of him were being swallowed by an eerie darkness.

"An evil aura...a demonic spirit?"

Jon's pupils contracted, and he suddenly grabbed Carter Slade's collar.

"Old man! Get out of my way! Let me borrow your horse!"

"No—"

Before he could finish speaking, Carter felt dizzy and, when he came to his senses, he was already standing on the sand.

And the mysterious man was riding his beloved horse toward Saint-Vancouver!