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

(I still want to say, guys, you guys are just too cool!)

"Look...at...me."

The skull's jaw opened and closed, each syllable scattering sparks that landed on the face of the Witchheart Demon.

The ever-burning hellfire was reflected in the eyes of the Witchheart Demon.

The souls he devoured began to scream, and the memories of countless victims poured into his mind along with the flames.

"No! Stop! Aaaaaah—!"

Amidst a piercing scream, a pillar of orange fire erupted from his eye sockets.

Hundreds of fallen souls exploded one after another inside his body like firecrackers that had been lit!

"Aaaaaah—!" The Witchheart Demon let out a heart-wrenching roar.

In just a few seconds, he experienced the pain of all those whose souls he had devoured.

The hellfire continued to burn, and countless painful memories surged in his mind. His struggles gradually weakened until his soul was completely burned away.

boom!

The Demonic Heart of Witch slammed heavily to the ground, eventually turning into a pile of ashes.

"ha."

Ghost Rider let out a hoarse laugh, then suddenly turned to Jon Snow, his eyes flashing with a dangerous light.

"Jon Yowick, the Forbidden Son." He approached step by step. "Hand over the remains of the saint, now!"

"The body is yours? Johnny, have you lost control?" Jon's eyes sharpened, and he instantly went into battle mode.

He snapped his fingers, and the evil spirit blocking the sunlight above his head vanished instantly, but it was of no use.

The Spirit of Vengeance's persistence far exceeded Jon's imagination; its longing for the remains helped him overcome the sunlight.

"I don't want to repeat myself a third time," Ghost Rider's voice grew even hoarse. "Give it to me!"

"You're within my range, Moogle!" Jon Snow looked at him mockingly. "Star Platinum!"

A flash of starlight appeared, and Platinum Star's imposing figure stood directly in front of Ghost Rider.

"Euro!"

A powerful punch whistled out, accompanied by the sound of wind breaking through the air.

The next second, Ghost Rider's burning body crashed through several walls, carving a path through the ruins.

"Hmph." Jon lightly touched the brim of his hat, his scarlet eyes filled with contempt. "Compared to my Stand power, it's utterly weak."

At the end of the passage, Johnny lay blankly in a pile of bricks, uttering weak groans.

"Uh...did I...uh...get hit by a car and thrown into the air?"

He felt like he had just been hit by a major stroke of luck, and his bones felt like they were falling apart.

Fortunately, the punch from Platinum Star had completely brought him to his senses.

Otherwise, Johnny might really have continued to get beaten up.

Shortly after, Jon walked from the end of the passage, picked up the jacket from the ground, and threw it at Johnny.

"Time to get to work." He held out his hand to the dazed Johnny and said, "Don't just lie there, let's go."

Johnny grabbed Jon's hand and used it to stand up.

"Don't waste your time." Jon turned and walked away.

"Oh...I see." He stared at Jon's retreating figure, subconsciously touching his face, muttering to himself, "Why does my face hurt whenever I see him?"

After an unknown amount of time, the center of San Venganza village was piled high with dried corpses.

At this moment, Jon and Johnny laid firewood on the corpse, both with an idea in their minds.

That is—hopefully these old firewood can still be burned.

"Phew—" Jon wiped the sweat from his brow, "Everyone should be here. Let's get ready to begin."

These are the shells of degenerate cultists; burn them, and the trapped souls will be freed.

He pulled a cigarette case from his pocket, lit one, and said:

"Johnny Blaze, excuse me, can I borrow a light?"

After waiting for a long time, there was still no response to his words.

Jon frowned and turned around, only to find Johnny still in a daze.

Could that punch have really knocked him senseless? Jon wondered.

"Johnny! Fire!" he shouted impatiently, raising his voice. "Didn't you hear me?"

"Huh? Oh!" Johnny snapped back to reality, rubbed his fingers together in the shadows, and hellfire hissed out, igniting Jon's cigarette.

Jon took a deep drag on the cigarette lit by Hellfire, and his fatigue immediately eased slightly.

However, he didn't notice that Johnny was looking at him with a complicated expression behind him.

There was confusion and... a lingering fear in his eyes?

The Spirit of Vengeance is afraid? That's absurd, Johnny shook his head.

He'd been signing contracts for so many years, and he'd never seen this thing so cowardly.

Jon turned around, and the cigarette butt flew through the air and landed precisely on the woodpile.

boom!

A strong, acrid smell instantly spread from the pile of firewood.

The golden light emanating from the evil spirits grew brighter and brighter, and after a moment, an old man with half a human face floated in front of Jon.

"Thank you, stranger." The old man's voice was hoarse but gentle. "Let us sinners do something for you one last time."

Countless evil spirits reached their hands toward the burning campfire, and black mist rose from their bodies, yet it made the surrounding air peaceful.

Countless blasphemous runes emerged from his hands and floated into the flames.

"Now it is time for us to atone for our sins." All the evil spirits bowed slightly to Jon. "Inherit our legacy, Son of Miracles."

With the sound of their physical shackles breaking and burning, their spirits began to spontaneously combust without wind.

"To carry on your last wishes?" Jon looked at the golden light gathering in his right hand. "This damn thing might help me awaken a new Stand..."

"How enviable." Johnny gazed at the scene, his eyes gleaming with longing.

If he could obtain these unknown specks of light, he might be able to control the Spirit of Vengeance.

He suddenly remembered what Carter Slay had said: there were only two ways to control the spirit of vengeance, either through love or through... what was it again?

"Oh right, I also have Roxanne..." Johnny muttered to himself, "Love...?"

Just as the golden light was about to fully converge, Jon suddenly withdrew his right hand.

"Great! If I absorb these things, I can have a new substitute."

"Daga!" he pointed at the old man, his cold face filled with disdain. "A bunch of idiots!"

"My favorite thing to do, Jon Yowick, is to say NO to arrogant people!"

Jon Snow always believed that the gifts of fate come with a price tag!

and so!

The cautious Jon Snow would not accept things that seem harmless but could actually lead to problems!

He put his hands in his pockets, casually dispersed the specks of light in front of him, and said calmly:

"These specks of light are not mine, I absolutely don't want them! You can keep them for yourselves."

"Hmm?" The old man was taken aback at first, then shook his head and chuckled, "What a willful lad... Let's change to another one then."

"In my opinion, how can a hero like you not have a worthy steed?"

The old man's figure began to disappear, but he ignored it and continued speaking:

"Let us sinners make up for this shortcoming."

As soon as he finished speaking, the campfire suddenly began to churn violently, and countless bones were reassembled and pieced together in the flames.

"What is it?"

Jon and Johnny took a half step back in unison.

Then, a skeletal warhorse engulfed in eerie blue flames emerged from the fire, sparks flying as its hooves touched the ground.

Even more astonishingly, markings appeared on the skeleton of the warhorse's neck that shared the same origin as the runes on Jon Snow's shoulders.

"Hmm, this is..."

He actually felt a sense of closeness? What a bizarre turn of events!

Jon Snow's mind stirred, and he thoughtfully extended his hand toward the undead warhorse.

Sure enough, the warhorse immediately lowered its head and nuzzled his palm affectionately.

Sure enough! This undead being could actually communicate with him, it was unbelievable.

After making contact with the palm, a series of messages were transmitted through the palm.

"Feeding on sin?" Jon touched the still-burning blue flame on his warhorse's cheekbone, glancing at the black ash on the ground. "You won't go hungry, though."

After all, the sins left behind by these fallen believers are enough to feed it for hundreds of years.

The undead warhorse suddenly raised its head and neighed, and the runes on Jon's shoulder began to burn.

"Um?"

He looked up, a flash of understanding in his eyes.

The spirit horse said that it would come from the depths of the spirit world whenever he summoned it.

"Hello,"

Jon suddenly mounted his horse, and the blue flames swirled beneath him without harming him in the slightest.

He looked down at Johnny, his face cold, and said:

"Hey! Johnny, can that two-wheeled fire poker keep up?"