A golden Italy breeze enters through the window of Giorno's new office. He was sitting in a chair fitting for someone with a King like status, letting the day pass him by as it had been no more than a week since the defeat of Diavolo and his takeover of Passione and he was still letting the adventure set in. Giorno was still silently grieving the losses of his former teammates within the comfort of his chair, despite not knowing them for very long Giorno owed everything to them. Giorno took a good long look at the zipper hung up as a desk decoration as he remembered those who had passed. Little did Giorno know that Diavolo would not be the end of his troubles. Giorno's number 2, Polnareff, was in the room alongside Giorno his tiny turtle body stretched out across a table within the office. Polnareff was at complete ease on a day like this, as he knew no harm would come to him, especially with Giorno having harnessed the power of the arrow within his stand, Gold Experience.

The peace was soon disturbed by the likes of Giorno's number 3, Guido Mista who had just barged into the room having just had a large meal at the restaurant Bucciarati liked to take his team to back when they worked under Diavolo's orders.

"Oi, Giorno! Get any business pests come through or whatever?" Mista asked Giorno is his usual, blunt but laid back tone.

"No... non at all, today has been rather slow..." Giorno replied, not taking the effort to look at Mista due to his thoughts being elsewhere.

Mista took notice of Giorno's solemn tone and walked himself into Giorno's thousand-yard stare.

"Everything ok Giorno?" Mista asked his boss with a hint of concern in his voice. Giorno looked up to Mista this time and sighed to himself

"Just thinking..." Giorno once again set his eyes on Bucciarati's zip on the desk before him and then let his gaze slip to the floor. Mista understood Giorno's hints and offered comfort in encouragement.

"Come on, Giorno! Liven up a bit, we managed to avenge Bucciarati in the end, didn't we? I'm sure he's watching us from the heavens with that confident and hopeful smile he always gave us. Anyway, it's not like he's all alone up there is he?" Mista smiled warmly at Giorno and put his hand on Giorno's shoulder in his attempt to reassure Giorno that all is well. After all, it was unlike Mista to worry like that, he had a one-track mind that allowed him to remain carefree as he believed "To worry is to invite fear into one's heart".

Mista's admittedly cheesy attempt at reassurance seemed to strike a chord with Giorno as he returned the smile to Mista. This is when the door to the room was struck with a knocking.

"Hello? Anyone here?" a young voice piped up from behind the door

This wasn't the way you started any sort of business enquiry with the mafia, let alone the boss himself. Clearly, this man was either ignorant or was well aware of what he was doing and had the strength to back up his disrespectful attitude. Giorno shot a glance at Mista and then Polnareff, causing Polnareff to find himself a place to hide in the corner of the room next to a cupboard and Mista to ready up his stand, the Sex Pistols who load up his six-shooter as a walked his way around Giorno and into the centre of the room.

"Giorno Giovanna? Are you in here?" The voice called out as the door opened.

What immerged from the door was not some muscle-bound warrior with the strength to challenge the boss, but a short teen with a wide-eyed look of both caution and confidence. He walked on in with a look of relief.

"Ah, Giorno! I've finally found you, you weren't in the usual place so it was a bit of trouble at first but you seem to be pretty popular with the locals so it wasn't long unti- WOAHWOAHWAOH!" The boy spoke with composure and familiarity until he made eye contact with the muzzle of Mista's gun.

"Oi! Who the hell do you think you are?! Talking to the boss like he's your old friend from high-school!" Mista had the gun concentrated on the visitor's forehead, the pistols stationed on each of the bullets just waiting for Mista's order.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Giorno, tell him to stop pointing that thing at me! Please, He's gonna blow my brains out!" The visitor pleaded

"I am unless you get your act together kid!" Mista barked back at the visitor

Giorno sat there with a look of shock but a look of warmth all the same.

"Mista, lower your gun." Ordered Giorno, making Mista lose his composure a little.

"W-what are you talking about?" Mista still had eyes on his target

Giorno left his chair and used his hand to lower Mista's aim before walking toward the acquaintance and offering out his hand. You almost could believe they were old friends like Mista remarked. Speaking of Mista he stood there dumbfounded, what did Giorno owe this midget of a man for him to be acting so friendly with him. After all, the young man didn't even look Italian, let alone in association with the mafia.

Giorno spoke with a cheerful but sensible tone as his he shook hands with the visitor "Glad to see you once more, Koichi!"