[Curse Back to the Movie Theater] When Persecution Literature Shines into Reality

Why don't you update it? Have you abandoned it?

Ding~Business fluid blessing update is stress-free!

[Lop-eared Rabbit Head] I haven't come to visit recently.

Early morning. It's another ordinary morning. Polnareff woke up from bed. The previous life of being on the run has completely changed the French's biological clock, which often goes off, and now it's just dawn. The bedroom was illuminated by skylight, and Polnareff's nerves tensed up for a moment, because of this strange bedroom and strange environment. Then he took a deep breath and slowly relaxed. This is Diavolo, the safe house of Baldia. And now he's safe. The nearly year-long escape career ended in such a dramatic way that Polnareff didn't know whether to cry or laugh. In the end, he just cast his gaze to the bedside, where the prosthetic limbs that he had removed before going to bed were neatly placed. Polnareff reached out his hand... And was held down. By his left hand. His uncontrollable left hand. "What's wrong, Borodya?" Polnareff asked in confusion. Baltica. He chewed on the name. A personality of Diablo, for some reason, remained in him... Perhaps it was the identity of the master of Silver Chariot Requiem that made him special. An awkward and intimate symbiotic relationship. "Good morning, Polnareff." Borodiya's voice rang out. That was the voice that had appeared in Polnareff's nightmares countless times, the voice of his enemy. Usually accompanied by tingling of nerve endings and the smell of blood. But now, this voice was greeting him familiarly and easily. Because they are different personalities. They should be treated separately. Polnareff told himself this. The same voice may now become a comrade-in-arms. Polnareff, who was lost in thought, did not notice the troublesome left hand. Until it opened a piece of thin black cloth and poked its way in. "What are you doing?!" Polnareff was shocked and angry. "... Should I say you are slow, or something else? Haven't you noticed your physiological condition, Polnareff?" The man's voice contained a hint of pity. "Or maybe you're used to waiting for it to cool down naturally... But I have no intention of torturing my body. At least now, your body is mine." What kind of forced buying and selling is this? Polnareff lowered his head with a bit of resentment and found... Well, he was embarrassed... Standing up. "It is morning after all. Do you need my help, dear Pierre...?" The man's voice was a bit teasing. But this was obviously not a real question, because that damn uncontrollable left hand had already started to move. The Chevalier of France had never been so embarrassed for a moment. There was a thin layer of red on his face - I don't know whether it was out of shame or anger - but it was very cute. A few strands of silver hair that had fallen out of shape hung awkwardly on her forehead. He didn't notice that the few strands of hair that were hanging down had begun to turn pink. He also didn't notice that his right eye had turned red.

In the Onigashima arc, Black Maria calls Yamato "Master", but the other cadres call Yamato "Yamato", and he is usually "Kaido's son".