Qual’è Il Tuo Sogno?
Chapter 2: What is Your Dream?
Nero. Giorno knew there was a dead man that had that last name, but he didn’t recall anyone from his past that went by the name Aglio. Hearing the enemy introduce himself helped Giorno confirm that the stranger was, in some way, related to the late mafioso leader Risotto Nero. Despite the mask obscuring Aglio’s face, the matching hair color and unique set of eyes made Giorno suspect that the two might be blood relatives. Brothers? Perhaps.
He was certain that Aglio wasn’t just a reincarnation or redesign of Risotto in any way. When Giorno became Don of Passione years ago, one of the first things he had to do was go through the vast logs of documentation regarding the people who died as a result of his actions; one of these logs regarded the members of La Squadra Esecuzioni. He was surprised by how little information there was for each member of the enigmatic group but he knew enough to speculate who Aglio Nero possibly was. The documentation regarding the team leader Risotto Nero showed that the late mafioso went by no other alias beyond his birth name Dante di Nero but had a little cousin called Alberto di Nero. “Risotto Nero” was a code name that the late mafioso used ever since he joined and no one within Passione, related to him or not, shared his last name. Giorno recalled from the limited documentation that Risotto’s nine-year-old little cousin was killed by a drunk driver and how the murder of that same driver by Risotto’s hands bought him a coveted spot in Passione. It was very coveted, at the time, until Diavolo decided the team was too powerful despite their loyalty and dedication, and the death of Sorbet and Gelato sealed their fate to what it is now. The reason behind the driving incident and the minutiae of the events surrounding it had been lost to time.
The other aspects of Aglio’s appearance also confirmed Giorno’s assumptions. Despite being covered up and going off Giorno’s memory of the only full-body photo of Risotto he once saw, it was clear that Aglio was slightly shorter, leaner, and possibly younger as a result. A recording he also heard of the former leader’s voice indicated that Aglio’s was still deep but much higher and less gruff; the voice he had reminded Giorno more of Bruno’s instead. Unlike Koichi Hirose and Leaky Eye Luka simply appeared barely different in appearance yet sounded the same and had the same abilities, this was a brand new person. He began to wonder if Aglio had replaced Risotto, being a leader of an assassination team like La Squadra Esecuzioni or a team that functioned more like Bruno’s group. He knew that his version of Passione didn’t use numbers to identify themselves; he wondered if the number 47 had any significant meaning.
Sometimes, Giorno wondered what would have happened if Bruno and Risotto’s team worked together to take down Diavolo instead; this could be the next chance for him to join forces. However, that would mean he needed to find Bruno and the rest of his team members to start negotiations and possibly convince his new opponent to join in on negotiations too. That would also mean either making Aglio stand down one way or another. He already knew the death of a Stand-less yet powerful civilian like Leaky Eye Luka snowballed into him taking Passione; killing a team leader and making more enemies than before would escalate into something Giorno could only imagine would be worse.
The identity of Aglio Nero and the possibility of the alliance couldn’t be thought of any further when a battle was currently starting. Aglio was about to approach closer with his Stand, the coin flying between his fingers ringing between flicks, and Giorno knew his current opponent was out for blood.「Black and White」had already proven itself to be far more dangerous than its appearance. “「Golden Experience 」,” Giorno cried out for his Stand and the entity burst out fast enough to hit Aglio in the face before the latter could react. Similar to the encounter years ago with Bruno, the Stand had punched its opponent in the jaw and the impact flung him across the trolley. By now, the compartment was completely emptied and those who initially wanted to get on the trolley left the station out of fear. In Aglio’s mind, he was experiencing what Bruno had felt; the alteration in time and realizing his senses had gone into overdrive. It overwhelmed the mafioso and took him a while to finally realize he was on the ground with blood pooling in his mouth. During the whole time, Aglio screamed in pain but realized no noise actually came out of his mind. The impact slightly skewed his mask to the side but barely enough to reveal not more than his bleeding mouth. Feeling something solid floating inside, the mafioso instinctively spit it out. The taste of metal coated his tongue as he struggled to readjust his mask. His vision was still blurry but Aglio could tell based on the jagged edge his tongue just swiped over and the white spec surrounded by the blood he had just spit out that the punch broke his canine tooth from the root.
Giorno slowly got up and gingerly took steps to approach Aglio. Believing there was now no use in keeping him alive, he decided to try using his requiem abilities to end the battle once and for all. There was immediately a problem; his aim towards Aglio again didn’t summon that power. To the outsider, if there were any, it looked like Giorno was weakly punching thin air and the Don of Passione hoped Aglio didn’t catch the awkward moment. Giorno realized that his Requiem ability must have been taken away when he arrived back in 2001 and he wondered how it could have been lost. He didn’t recall anything out of the ordinary when he fell into the wormhole or when he stole Koichi’s luggage.
Once the tooth was spat out, Aglio wasted no time upon recovery and was unaware of Giorno’s new findings. The mafioso got himself back up with minimal effort and flipped「Black and White」again. “Still guilty,” he gritted his teeth as he let the Stand seep into his palm once it landed. Giorno watched as the right arm of the mafioso changed before him. Similar to how Giorno’s body changed, Aglio’s limb was transformed into something more industrial and covered in silver-colored mechanisms that resemble machinery. Whether the items were just decorative or actually functional didn’t ignore the fact that the new robotic arm had a spiked hammer at the end instead of a normal hand. Giorno was certain he felt a waft of metal and grease fill his nose, something he didn’t notice when his arm was first transformed.
“That’s quite a punch you got there,” Aglio’s tone of voice was somewhat unsettling. Giorno didn’t expect such a reaction from someone who was punched by「Golden Experience 」. The mafioso didn’t hesitate to start walking towards his opponent, pointing the hammer end of his arm at the latter. He got close enough to attempt swinging his arm at Giorno before being blocked by「Golden Experience 」. “This must be your Stand,” Aglio observed before swinging again. “This is a bizarre ability that sends anyone it hits into overdrive, correct? Now I know how you were able to knock a regular man like Leaky Eye Luka into a vegetable. Too bad I’m not regular at all!”
Giorno had barely enough time to block the third hit and he realized the smashes had much more pressure and intensity than any human punch he had ever endured. The two men lunged at each other one more time, no longer caring about the environment they were in and whether any one would dare try to witness their fight. Giorno realized he was immediately at a disadvantage when it came to hand-to-hand combat and his limitations meant relying on「Golden Experience 」to make the right blow at the right time. Sure, he let「Golden Experience 」throw most of the punches and grew his personal fighting experience over time, but never did he have to encounter an experienced fighter who was also a Stand User. Stand Users in his timeline could fight but most if not any didn’t try to learn real-life fighting techniques; it was believed to be unnecessary when man-made weapons are considered powerless against many Stands. Yet, Giorno was proven wrong about that sentiment when his head was by Aglio’s foot doing a whip kick; the leg had just transformed itself into a similar industrial-looking machine version of his leg just as it made contact and then reverted itself back into a normal limb. Had Giorno’s head been slightly angled differently, his nose bone would have been driven into his brain by the force. He barely had a chance to spin completely around due to the impact when Aglio began aggressively punching him towards the former’s end of the trolley.
Aglio quickly figured out that he couldn’t hit Giorno directly without reliving that overdrive he felt earlier, so he altered the areas of contact with「Black and White」right before potential impact. Between hits, he had「Black and White」enter and exit his body via his skin and his mouth, each flick rang in both ears and Aglio juggled the coin-appearing Stand between throws and kicks. To the capable eye, it looked like a glimmering sparkle that floated from one hand to the next. This was the first time Giorno had blood drawn from him in any fight besides playful brawls where his Stand wasn’t involved. He swore he started feeling cat scratches and bruises forming on his arms and face due to the spiked hammer nicking his skin. He managed to get a few swings onto Aglio, a hook and jab here and there, but the latter countered with sweep kicks that threatened Giorno’s balance between the exchange of words. “You’re a pretty good fighter,” Giorno tried to lighten the mood by commenting between breaths. The Don of Passione lacked endurance for fights like these. His opponent just shrugged in response and muttered something about “learning from the best”, leaving it at that.
Aglio used the trolley’s moving environment to his advantage, something that Giorno picked up and tried to use as well; the two cared less about the property damage that entailed. The Don tried to fight back with moves he barely recalled years ago; he saw a low-ranking lackey punch a drunk businessman in the lower chin and attempted to perform it against Aglio. Giorno’s logic concluded that he needed to try a martial arts trick to beat someone performing martial arts. He attempted to close the distance between himself and his opponent, trying to use both his fist to push the latter back but it only made him more vulnerable. Unable to see that he had to use his legs to power the punch, he opened himself to Aglio and allowed the latter to push against the top of his knee with his foot; the boot was covered completely in metal. That was enough to push Giorno farther away instead and make him hiss loudly in pain. He had to catch himself to avoid falling on the ground and Aglio loudly mocked him when he grabbed his knee. Had Aglio not paid off the police nearby before the fight, the trolley would have already stopped way earlier and the duo would have already been surrounded by cops ordering them to cease their fight.
Unbeknownst to Aglio, Giorno had fallen in the drying pool of blood that came out of Aglio’s mouth earlier. The broken canine tooth somehow wasn’t stepped on or rolled around during the scuffle. Giorno decided to take it just in case; he remembered how he tracked down Bruno with it before. The mafioso didn’t notice what Giorno had picked up.
“You’re lucky that I didn’t apply that much force,” Aglio jeered as he began walking back to the closest open window he could find, “or else that hit would have wrecked your kneecap completely. I would fight you to the death, but I feel bad for beating up a little kid— even if you are my enemy.”
Giorno began getting back up and noticed that「Black and White」now rested between Aglio’s fingers. The mafioso had his hand up as if he wanted to surrender; the Don of Passione knew it was merely to mock him rather than admit defeat. “You are quite the fighter,” Aglio continued to insult. “But your Stand is much more impressive. I think I’ve had enough fighting for today though. We’ll have to do this another time.”
“I’m not quite done with you just yet,” Giorno knew this was the moment when Bruno escaped him and he wasn’t going to let Aglio leave just yet. The Don of Passione realized his kicked leg was aching at the knees still and he tried to limp toward Aglio. However, the mafioso was quicker and got himself positioned in the opening and ready to jump out. The trolley kept moving, causing the passing wind to blow into the mafioso’s hair messily; the sunlight shined on his silver locks. He stayed longer just to watch Giorno struggle to get up and walk towards him. “Be prepared,” Aglio warned as the other got closer, “because I’ll deal with you next time.” Before「Golden Experience 」could reappear and throw another hit or grab him, Aglio pushed himself off the train and fell over the window.
Giorno let adrenaline overpower him enough that he could ignore his knee and raced to where Aglio was last standing. Not thinking for another second, the Don of Passione followed suit and threw himself out the same window. The trolley continued to move down its tracks, and Giorno landed on the dusty pavement nearby. He groaned in pain from the impact of hard rough terrain breaking his fall; the pain on his knee returned but felt like it was subsiding. The loose gravel that he fell on slightly dug into the bare skin that landed on it but it was mostly ignored by Giorno due to his other injuries.「Golden Experience 」reappeared to help its Stand user up, asking if he was okay, to which Giorno reassured the Stand that he was fine. He realized he was at an emergency landing area of sorts; a place where a trolley would have stopped to let passengers go if something blocked the way to the next official stop. Compared to the upper levels where the streets are located, the area was barren with barely even weeds growing in the cracks. No one dared to walk down the various stairs that connected the lower and upper levels together. Giorno also didn’t see anyone else around him when he fell; he seemed completely alone.
The Don of Passione looked around and confirmed that Aglio was nowhere to be found. He had assumed the mafioso made a portal of sorts to escape and was now prepared to use his tooth trick once more; he recalled Sticky Fingers had that ability to allow Bruno to escape earlier and tried to imagine what kind of portal「Black and White」could possibly make. Giorno looked around to see where the closest source of people was that Aglio could have possibly blended in before deciding to go up the nearest staircase to him: a crumbling stone step that was next to the bridge the trolley had gone under earlier. A sparrow landed on his head without much thought; it was the suitcase he was carrying that was just transformed by「Golden Experience 」before he jumped and he was keeping it on his head to avoid occupying his hands. Pretending that he was trying to find Aglio, he resumed walking and exaggerated his head movements to appear like he was still searching.
Once he reached the top of the stairs, Giorno tried to scour around as he pulled out the canine tooth he placed in his pocket before jumping out of the trolley. He decided to start blending into the crowd first before he could release the tooth, trying to see if he could find any anomaly like a limb sticking out where it shouldn’t be. Unbeknownst to him,「Black and White」didn’t have the ability to create portals but rather turn its Stand User invisible. Aglio had been standing a few paces away from Giorno the whole time in the emergency landing area. The dust he came in contact with his body from the fall was transformed into iron, allowing him to reflect light and blend in with the scenery; a somewhat exhausting ability that Risotto Nero used with「Metallica」years ago. Unless there was machinery like heat guns or carbon dioxide trackers or if someone bumped into him, he was undetectable— not even any noise he makes can be detected. Despite using more energy than his other abilities, Aglio decided to use the opportunity to strategize his next steps; the ability wasn’t as consuming if he only walked and did nothing else that was physically demanding. He watched Giorno climb the stairs, falling into the trap the Don of Passione had established and decided to observe. Immediately, both were surrounded by crowds of locals and tourists filling the streets.
“This kid is something,” Aglio was talking to himself when he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. While he debated on whether he should just turn away and fight another day as he claimed earlier, he went against his gut instinct and decided to continue following Giorno. The Don of Passione weaved between people, trying to confuse Aglio while not making it obvious that he knew that he was being followed, and Aglio tried to avoid touching people as he walked. He had the evidence that proved the teenager he just fought was Leaky Eye Luka’s assailant and now he just had to kill him; options to delay the second part of his mission were off the table now. Aglio let his phone buzz two more times before he decided to fish out his phone from his pocket and pick up the call. He didn’t have to look at his screen to see who had called him and didn’t hesitate to answer. He was greeted by the sound of a car driving in the background followed by some honking noises.
“Pronto? Rey, I’m invisible now.” His eyes remained on Giorno. The sounds of tourists and locals mingling with each other made it easy to make his words blend in with the crowd but also difficult for Aglio to listen carefully on the other line. Still, he managed to catch a feminine voice screaming obscenities at what he can assume was a traffic light based on the words that came out. Aglio tried to listen while walking at a brisk pace, carefully avoiding any physical contact as a means of preventing any reaction that would blow his cover. Nothing catches more attention than someone wondering who they just bumped into and not being able to figure it out right away.
Aglio saying he’s invisible meant that he could talk as freely as he wanted. While the possibility of recorded calls and other minutiae were still on the table, his statement saying he was using「Black and White」to avoid detection meant using real names instead of codenames can be done. Passione’s policies on code names and legal names varied between members and teams; usually, only very close partnerships would dare call each other by their real names so casually.
“Alberto,” the same feminine voice came from Aglio’s second-in-command. “We heard you were still investigating Leaky Eye Luka’s attack. Don’t go looking for an adult who might be responsible. We just got word that his assailant was some teenager working as a petty crook that refused to pay Luka’s business fees at the airport. Can you believe a little kid did that?”
A male’s voice in the background asked the caller why she had her phone out; it sounded like only two people were in the car where the phone call was taking place. “I just encountered the culprit,” Aglio replied and tried to resume the conversation. “His real name is Giorno Giovanna but he has gone by other names too. Haruno Shiobana is one of them, I think. I confronted him earlier and found that he had a fake business card among other things and now I’m hunting him down. From the looks of it, he seems more like a menace with a Stand.” Aglio tried to double-task talking on the phone, keeping his eye on Giorno, and avoiding people walking past. He narrowly ran into a teenager wearing a bright orange aviator jacket and large earphones blasting rap music. “Time to get that slice of pizza,” Aglio didn’t hear the teenager talk to himself loudly.
The mafioso continued to talk on the phone. Giorno suddenly made a sharp turn to a random alleyway, exiting from the main street they had been walking on so far. Aglio could hear his second-in-command yelling more curse words between the sounds of screeching tires in a language that only she knew. She switched back to Italian after he heard a faint sound of a car breaking. “Stupid driver in front of us doesn’t know how to fucking DRIVE,” she honked the horn while the male voice that was with her sounded like he grabbed the phone against her will. “Ask him if he needs backup, Cass,” her voice now became the background.
“Do you need backup,” the male voice that was associated with the name Cass asked Aglio after an exasperated sigh. “Rey, focus on the goddamn road. Fai attenzione!”
“Why is Rey driving,” it only clicked to Aglio that she was behind the wheel during the whole call. “Didn’t she just fall earlier—”
“Send me your location right now,” Rey was trying to talk when she drifted. “Just because I got hit in the head earlier doesn’t mean I can’t fight or drive afterward. I can do it!”
“You did not just hit your head,” Cass was yelling at her back. “You fell off a fucking building less than an hour ago and it took you five minutes to gain consciousness. Ten more to get you speaking nonsense. I only let you drive because you demanded to do it and promised you were going to drive properly. Pull over right now because you are not meeting up with Alberto.”
“Enough bickering you two,” Aglio shut both of them down as he turned into the alleyway Giorno just entered. “Regardless of what you two think, I don’t need backup anyways. I just got out of a scuffle with the target and I’m simply following him right now. He’s a horrible fighter if not for his Stand. The bastardo doesn’t know I can turn invisible so far.”
Giorno was now at least six feet away from him. Based on the putrid stench and pile of garbage that littered the pathway, the mafioso guessed that the particular street was having a garbage day and the collectors had yet to arrive. The flies surrounding him were having a feast and a few bumped into him. Unbeknownst to Aglio, his enemy had just decided to release the canine tooth once the former just entered. A lone fruit fly among many began approaching the mafioso’s space.
“I’ll be fine,” Aglio reassured the people on the other line as he tried swatting that particular fly away. “He’s a challenge, but not something I can’t handle alone. Rey, Cass— you already have enough on our plate today. Be on standby at Gregaste Hostel and let our team know they need to be on standby as well. Run a sparring round or something to keep yourselves occupied. If I ever need you or the team, I will page immediately.” Aglio knew his second-in-command was prone to go overboard and Cass, his third-in-command, was not a man of patience; the two have worked together well in the past when necessary but often clashed together in situations like this. As he was giving the order, the same fruit fly that started lingering more got closer. Aglio was able to shoo the regular insects away without touching them, but the particular fly that Giorno created kept lingering by his ear. It kept trying to go where his eyes and chin were.
“Alberto,” Cass tried to refute, “I’m agreeing with Rey on this one for once. You might need one more person to face Luka’s murderer. I can drop her off at HQ and join you. Tell me a rendezvous point and I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“I’ll be fine,” Aglio was sounding irritated because of the fly’s insistence. “You two don’t need to worry about me. The kid has some skills, I won't lie about that. But at the end of the day, he’s just a child with an ego bigger than St. Peter's Basilica. I can take him down easily.”
The fly wouldn’t stop buzzing. It was starting to annoy Aglio, as he realized that the more time he spent swatting it meant the farther he was getting away from his target. The people on the other line continued to request to join him once more but were interrupted by the mafioso one more time.
“I’ll get back to you,” Aglio quickly hung up before either of the two could protest or respond. He hastily put the phone back into his pocket and continued stalking. Giorno was now only a couple of feet away; the gap between the two was growing smaller as the other emerged out of the alleyway and into an open space. The Don of Passione had a feeling that his target was getting closer and could imagine him feeling the flying insect one way or another. To play into his ignorance of the situation and subtly mock Aglio, Giorno began whistling a random tune. He was one step closer to reaching the other exit of the alleyway; the Don of Passione recognized the opening as the place he fought Bruno a second time. There was no sign of others like how Bruno ran into three people and used it to create a diversion, so Giorno wondered if Aglio was hiding in the surrounding stone walls. He just needed the fly to give him a sign.
The invisible mafioso didn’t hear Giorno whistling and was too preoccupied with trying to get rid of the buzzing insect trying to dig itself through the mask. Sometimes, the fly tried to get in through the eye holes or under the chin area.「Black and White」manifested itself as a coin waiting for Aglio to strike yet the insect increasingly occupied Aglio’s mind. The buzzing was getting to him and his patience wore thinner by the second. Desperately, he swatted the fly once more while keeping his attention on Giorno and succeeded in making contact to slap it dead.
That’s when he realized he should not have done that. Aglio felt that same surge he did before when「Golden Experience 」hit him for the first time, causing him to revert his invisibility and scream in agony. He watched as Giorno turned around and smirked as if it was his plan the whole time. Although he didn’t expect it to happen so soon, Giorno picked up an old trick when he tried to find Bruno from a group of people by using a broken tooth. He found it intriguing how his target planned on following him while Bruno led Giorno on a chase and tried to hide in a stranger’s body to get away; Aglio was more willing to pursue and fight. The two of them made it to the open space by the time the mafioso was caught.
Aglio managed to catch himself from falling straight down onto the warm ground; the sun had spent the past several hours heating the terrace with no shade in sight. The fly he swatted dropped dead next to him and transformed back into the broken tooth once more. Aglio readjusted his mask as Giorno faced him and the former moved it aside to spit out some more blood. He ran his tongue through where the broken tooth was and tried to process what had happened.
“Is that a tooth…” Aglio gripped his mouth to ease the pain before putting his mask over his face once more.
“My Stand can give life to anything I touch,” Giorno explained. “So, your tooth in the trolley earlier allowed me to track you down. Since it’s your tooth, it has no choice but to try going back to where it came from. I can’t believe you pretended to be some coward that ran off when in reality you were following me the whole time. I should have known you wouldn’t just give up like that- especially if you had the upper hand in our fights the whole time.”
“I was hoping to rematch you another time,” Aglio was getting used to his jaw’s pain coming back. He wondered if he should have let the people he was talking to earlier join him, and possibly ambush the enemy for him, but he disregarded his thoughts. It was more important to him now that he defeated the enemy once and for all. There was no such thing as perfect timing in the criminal world based on his experience. “I was going to learn more about you and attack once I know enough,” Aglio explained his initial plan. “But, it looks like we both need to settle this. Now.”
Giorno cracked his knuckles. He knew that this moment was when he learned of Bruno’s character and morals, using them to convince the late mafioso to let the Don of Passione join his team. However, he couldn’t rely on Aglio to be similar in beliefs or gullible enough to persuade him. This was now or never; it was a fight that was less about making allies and more about saving his own life. At least Giorno didn’t feel as anxious as the last time.
“I won’t let you get away again,” he vowed.
“Likewise,” Aglio responded. He flicked「Black and White」up in the air and caught it before letting the Stand dig into his skin once more. His arm transformed itself into the same mechanical appearance it was before— only this time, it had a spinning blade attached to it.
The fight resumed. Giorno did his best to throw his punches, trying to hit any area of Aglio that wasn’t covered in metal parts. Aglio was quicker, either dodging the attacks or blocking them, compared to before, and tried to hit Giorno directly when he could evade「Golden Experience 」. There were many times when they locked in together and words were exchanged; insults, backhanded comments, anything that the two wanted to say at the moment.
Giorno had one burning question in mind when they locked together a fourth time: “Where is Bucciarati?”
“How do you know him?” Aglio’s response meant Giorno could safely assume Bruno does exist. But the next thing Aglio said disapproved of his assumption.
“Are you associated with Team #99? What do you need from that old man?”
Giorno could safely assume that Aglio was still in his twenties, so it would be bizarre to call Bruno an “old man” despite the two possibly being close in age; Aglio looked like he would be the older one out of the two. While Passione had teams of varying sizes and work cultures, Giorno’s tenure didn’t make them go by numbers. He didn’t recall Bruno’s team having numbers or knowing exactly what their official duties were before Bruno’s promotion. From Aglio’s tone of voice, the use of the term “old man” indicated that they were close enough to use it as a neutral title rather than an insult. It didn't stop Giorno from having more questions than answers.
“Old man?” He was confused. Aglio caught on that something was off about what Giorno had asked regarding the name and delved further. “Signore Paolo Bucciarati,” Aglio described the man he knew as Bucciarati instead. “Man in his 50s. Leader of Hitman Team #99. Does that ring a bell?”
One look at Giorno’s face was enough for Aglio to know the answer was no. They clashed with each other again before being pushed back apart. More sweep kicks, more uppercuts, more insults. Giorno didn’t recall anyone else sharing the same last name as Bruno; he did remember the leader mentioning his father’s name as Paolo though. Giorno wondered if this Bucciarati was him instead. He wondered if both Bruno and his father are alive in this new timeline and tried to probe further.
“Where’s Bruno?” He didn’t mean to sound desperate to know, but his voice gave it away. Giorno assumed his enemy might know about Paolo’s son’s whereabouts instead. “His son,” he tried to clarify. “Where is he? What did you do to him?” Aglio was just as confused with the question given but what the mafioso said next had a pang of sadness in his voice— as if he knew what happened to actual Bruno but tried to hide his true opinions on the matter. His voice was meant to be exaggerated as if to mock the situation but it ended up sounding more somber instead. “You had the nerve to ask me such question. Of all the things you could have said about Bruno.”
“What did you do to him,” Giorno repeated his question.
“What did I do to him,” Aglio questioned him back as if he was angry at the implied accusation. “Do you not know anything that happened these past few years? That poor kid…” Giorno asked what he meant as he narrowly got his left arm fully sliced off. It left a nasty cut, similar to where he had pulled his arm off to defeat Bruno before. “Basta stronzate,” Giorno tried to cut to the chase; he wasn’t one for cursing since his younger years but it just had to come out. He wasn’t sure if Aglio was toying with him, as the tone of voice Aglio had completely changed upon mentioning Bruno. Giorno tried to avoid sounding angrier when he asked once more and ran to the mafioso to try punching him. “Where is he?”
Aglio kicked Giorno again to put space between him and his opponent. “If you dared to ask about Bucciarati earlier,” Aglio stepped back to prepare his next attack, “you would have known his son died a couple of years ago under Father Diavolo’s orders. Everyone knew that.” He used his left hand to clutch his chest, feigning pain as if it was a mocking act before he taunted Giorno further. That tone of hidden sadness from before, although genuine, then turned into bitter sarcasm. It was as if Aglio was upset about the syndicate for this matter more than wanting to personally insult whoever this other Bucciarati man was. “Such a tragedy.”
“I... what—”
“Ah, forgive me…” Aglio shook his head and looked at Giorno before he continued. He let go of his left hand from his chest. “That’s not what Passione reported to his father. I should correct myself to avoid spreading misinformation that would defame our syndicate’s reputation. A young man named Bruno Bencivenga died two years ago due to complications from a risky operation after struggling to recover from a shootout that involved drugs. No foul play was involved in his death. It was just a tragic accident.”
Bruno Bencivenga. Barely the age he was suppose to meet Giorno at the time of death.
Died from surgical complications.
Giorno recognized that last name as Bruno’s legal one; Bucciarati was more of a code name that everyone used to address him in his timeline, but he could confirm that Bruno Bencivenga and Bruno Bucciarati are the same person. The new information, regardless, was so much to process for the Don of Passione. It was one thing for him to hear that Bruno had been dead for a while now; it was another to be told that the cause of death was at Passione's hands before he came into the picture. Giorno didn’t deny the fact that his own actions in 2001 led to the death of Bruno, Abbacchio, and Narancia, and he went out of the way to pay his respects to their sacrifices; the guilt remained in his mind. He remembered Mista once mentioning that Paolo Bucciarati was severely injured after a drug trade gone wrong, his medical bills and need for protection from retaliation forcing Bruno to join Passione, and how Paolo ultimately died from a botched surgery as a means of keeping his own son in line. Giorno forgot to hide his true reaction to the news and the mafioso noticed how confused his enemy looked hearing everything; Aglio assumed his facial expression was showing guilt that translated to possibly having a role in Bruno’s demise.
“Based on how you’re responding to all of this,” Aglio suggested, “maybe you did have a role in Bruno’s death this whole time. Acting all ignorant on the matter to hide real responsibility.”
Giorno tried to refute Aglio’s claims but the mafioso interjected. “Bucciarati deserves to know how you got involved in the death of his own son,” Aglio suggested; his mask concealed a grim smile. “I know we no longer get along because of… well… I rather not say… but at least I can give the old man something to let his anger out on, right? I definitely shouldn’t kill you at all. I should drag your ass to Paolo Bucciarati to deal with you himself!”
If there was anything Giorno could choose to do, it was visit this Paolo Bucciarati on his own terms and not be beaten up with trumped-up charges that implied he killed Bruno. He didn’t bother to ask what Aglio meant by “I rather not say” but he didn’t think it was as important as surviving right now. Giorno ran towards the mafioso to get on the offensive, preparing to throw a major hit and ignoring the pain still lingering in his left arm. Just as he thought he got close enough, Aglio suddenly changed his own left arm into what looked like a retractable hook. During their talk about Bruno, a random street bum that stumbled into the terrace was gradually approaching the two of them. Only Aglio took notice, recognizing who that man was, and saw how his high state made him ignorant of the situation at hand. Giorno only took notice when the hook in Aglio’s hand retracted to grab the street bum; the Don of Passione recognized the man as an older version of the teenager Bruno switched arms with in the past. “I guess I can use you to get some revenge,” Giorno heard Aglio mutter under his breath when the hook latched on and dragged the man towards them.
Just when Giorno was about to swing with his Stand, Aglio used the street bum as an impromptu meat shield to block the hit. Aglio could have easily transformed his hand to be used as a shield but he decided to use the bum as a scare tactic against Giorno and to hurt the man for something Giorno didn’t know about. With perfect timing, Giorno’s ability surged through the man instead and the view of seeing him suffer caught the Don of Passione off guard. Aglio pushed the man further onto Giorno to create more distance before the unconscious body dropped down between them. The mafioso seized the opportunity to subdue his opponent; he coated his hand with metalwork to punch Giorno in the chin and then swung his leg to hit the torso. The Don of Passione could feel the brunt force, swearing his liver had taken most of the hit, and felt himself falling. For good measure, Aglio used his other leg to sweep-kick his opponent and force him to fall onto the ground.
Giorno recalled Mista once attempting to perform such a maneuver with Sheila E. a couple of years ago; the Consigliere was attempting to learn more martial arts and thought taking some niche kickboxing style would be as easy as shooting a gun.
“I heard this is called Savate,” he tried to impress Polnareff at the time with his choice, “a perfect style for digging my boots into my enemy’s skull— OW! SHEILA!” The turtle laughed in response to the scene before him along with Fugo by his side. Mista had a thing for being dramatic during these sparring matches and exagerated his cries as he flailed himself to the ground. The kick was barely Sheila E’s full power but still painful to endure. The mafioso was proud of herself for being able to subdue her fighting partner and turned to Polnareff for some feedback.
“Your aim needs more work, Scilla,” the second-in-command was amused at seeing how the younger girl picked it up much faster than her older superior; before he became wheelchair-bound, Polnareff used to know a thing or two about this particular kickboxing style called Savate. “The accuracy is important,” he further explained. “Your ribcage protects most of your liver, so to do great damage to that organ means you need to get the kick within a centimeter of where the organ is. That way, your opponent would have to endure internal bleeding in addition to the pain.”
Fugo hummed in agreement based on his knowledge of the human body and helped Mista up from the ground.
Giorno personally never got to experience what it was like feel such a horrific move— until now.
The Don of Passione managed to fall onto his back and his arms were spread to their respective sides, groaning in pain as he felt his mouth pooling with blood again. He barely had time to process what happened when Aglio transformed one arm into a nail gun and proceeded to shoot his opponent's hands to the ground. The act immobilized Giorno and using「Golden Experience」to escape never crossed his mind; everything happened so suddenly that he had no time to process and act. Aglio immediately noticed and decided to toy with Giorno before the final blow. With his other arm, the mafioso used「Black and White」to transform into a circular saw. The Don of Passione could see the blade spinning towards him and going to his now-exposed neck. He scrambled to get out on his own, trying to transform the nails in his hands into something that could release him but the shock was blocking his thought process to do so. He could hear the blade whirling, getting closer to his jugular. The left arm, which was still a nail gun, was now aimed at his head for good measure. One false move and Aglio wouldn’t hesitate to shoot.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now or drag your body to Team #99 to deal with,” he taunted. “Come on, where’s your passion? Where’s the stupid teenager that I fought back there?”
Giorno knew survival was crucial, but he still wanted to know from Aglio about Bucciarati. He had no choice but to confess. Aglio’s gut was telling him that there was more to the petty crook than what meets the eye. The sound of the blade was all Giorno could focus on now; he wasn’t sure how he could still hear the mafioso taunting him as the blade’s noise grew closer. He could feel it starting to nick his skin; Giorno decided to take a big risk and confess something.
“Because I’m the real leader of Passione!”
The blade was still whirring but stopped right before blood could be drawn. Aglio still had a grip, waiting to see if Giorno had a counterattack and only said that to distract him, but nothing appeared. Giorno was panting out of stress, squeezing his eyes shut to mentally prepare his statement while trying to avoid seeing the sun in his eyes. The mafioso took note of the latter and moved his head to give Giorno’s face some shade; his defense has yet to be let down. He asked the Don of Passione to repeat himself. It was one thing to say you are the leader of a big organization but another to add the word “real” to it. He wondered what Giorno meant by saying real; surely, the current leader of his Passione wasn’t an imposter.
Giorno didn't know whether it was worth the risk to make such a bold statement. Sweat from both heat and hesitation began dripping down his temple and his Adam’s apple bobbed. He decided to sound as confident as he could.
“My real name is Giogio,” he reintroduced himself, “and I am the real founder and leader of Passione. I may not look like it but I found this syndicate you are a part of in 1991. I worked mostly behind the scenes before I was usurped by the man you call Father Diavolo.”
This was the story Giorno always told when asked about his origins ever since he became Don of Passione: a very young boy finding a syndicate meant to stop the selling of drugs to Passione but remained behind the scenes due to his age before some characters attempted to usurp his power. In response, the young boy secretly reentered his syndicate as a low lackey to uncover the truth and the events that led to his reinstatement caused various deaths and a seemingly innocent girl to be kidnapped and involved. What Giorno was now saying to Aglio was the lies he used then but adjusted to convince the latter; he had to be careful to not overshare in case some things didn’t line up.
“How old are you,” Aglio couldn’t tell if there were any blemishes or implied work under the knife to make his opponent seem younger than he is. “Twenty-something?”
“Twenty-five,” that was the only honest answer Giorno had given so far. “It’s part of why I’ve been in hiding. A lot of people say I don’t look my age at all.”
“You were fifteen when you found Passione then,” Aglio pried.
“I know it’s hard to believe,” Giorno tried to avoid any signs of hesitation or fear that would make him less believable. He could tell the blade was still spinning at his neck and the cool metal end of the nail gun was lightly brushing against his temple. “I’m the real deal. I never told anyone because… well, the way you already doubted me was obvious. I kept my age and identity a secret ever since I found the syndicate and only recently did I find myself usurped of power that was rightfully mine.”
“So it was you,” he didn’t expect Aglio to dig the nail gun into his temple suddenly. “You made the order to kill Bruno then. You made an order to kill Sorbetto and Stracciatello too!”
“It wasn’t me,” Giorno interjected to save himself again. “That was all Father Diavolo. He usurped me right before they were killed and I didn’t know it happened until recently. That’s why you didn’t recognize me at first and why I seemed to appear out of nowhere. I was chased out of Italy and was only able to come back a few days ago.”
“Stronzate,” Aglio felt conflicted nonetheless; part of him wanted to listen to what this so-called pretender had to say and part of him wanted to kill him right now. “What do you mean you were chased out?”
“I was naive back then,” Giorno tried to come up with a lie that would fit. “I thought I had some people I could trust to help guide me in building Passione. Father Diavolo started out as one of my best supporters and allies. But, he wanted what I made and branded me a random traitor that needed to be kicked out. The supporters I had before disappeared as soon as he took power, some changing sides out of fear and some dying in protest. My existence was erased and I was forced to leave the country. Sorbetto and Stracciatello were one of my allies that stayed until the very end. You need to believe me.”
He wasn’t familiar with the names Sorbetto and Stracciatello but he could infer that the two were related to Sorbet and Gelato. He had read some pages about the two attempting to identify Diavolo’s identity and dying as a result. Reading about the thirty-six frames haunted him to this day; he can only imagine Sorbetto and Stracciatello experiencing something similar or worse.
“How did you know Sorbetto and Stracciatello then,” Aglio asked.
“They were like fathers to me,” Giorno never knew anything about Sorbet and Gelato but tried to play along. “They helped me build Passione but were too humble to accept my offers for higher status. They told me they preferred to be among the mafiosos. I would never execute them— let alone send them to their deaths without knowing it would happen. When I started Passione, they helped me so much in being the man I became. Father Diavolo was jealous of what I had with them in addition to wanting power for himself. I don’t know what he looks like and he doesn’t know what I look like; it was an acknowledged deal that we would not disclose who we are beside the fact that he was older than me. Before I lost contact with everyone, I asked Sorbetto and Stracciatello to collect evidence of Father Diavolo’s actions. When I heard what happened to them… I only wished I could have stopped it sooner.”
Aglio continued to stare blankly at him, although his head felt like he was fitting pieces of a puzzle together. Giorno had little knowledge of what these pieces entailed and whether they involved Sorbetto or whoever Gelato would be. It was hard to tell what the mafioso was thinking due to his mask. He was still staring down at Giorno, but Aglio readjusted himself to retract back a bit and let his opponent continue to speak. The sunlight that was initially blocked by him briefly blinded Giorno once the other moved out of the way to sit up. Giorno briefly squinted and blinked to adjust himself. Aglio took notice and used his arm to block wherever the sun was bothering the other man’s eyes. His guard was still up though and the blade, although slow, was still spinning. Giorno decided to push his luck further.
“I didn’t think they would be caught or Father Diavolo would go that far to punish him. But the two of them were so loyal— from what I heard, neither uttered a word about me or revealed who I was despite what they went through… I only found out about what happened to them a few days ago. I’ve lost so much contact and I’m sorry that I couldn’t come sooner.” If the tears caused by the glaring sun a while ago didn’t help sell his sadness, Giorno didn’t know what else to do to convince Aglio of his lie. He wasn’t sure if he was repeating words or stumbling over lies; he decided to segue into something else. Hopefully, it could gain him more trust.
“Leaky Eye Luka was once an ally of mine too,” Giorno’s next statement caught Aglio off-guard again— another believable lie. “When I heard what happened to Sorbetto and Stracciatello, I tried to reach out to what remaining allies I had. Luka was one of them but… he refused to take my calls. I knew something was up and tried to confront him. I didn’t mean to harm Luka the way I did. You have to believe me!”
“So,” Aglio questioned, “your attack on Luka was—”
“Out of self-defense,” Giorno fibbed. “When I made it back to Naples, none of his underlings dared to help me find him. Not even the corrupt cops that I encountered at the airport. I knew Luka loved squeezing whatever money he could and punishing whoever dared to not pay him a single Lire to conduct business in his territory. So, I disguised myself as a petty crook to get his attention. All I wanted was to meet up with him and figure out our next plan, find any remaining allies loyal to me, and catch up on current affairs.”
“Based on what I was told,” Aglio tried to press further, “there was information about a petty crook meeting up with Luka before he was hit. That was you all along?”
“Yes,” Giorno pretended to confess. “We had our differences over the years but he was the only man I could find. I had to pretend so that I could get his attention. You know how he would do anything to squeeze out money from whoever refused to follow his rules. Once I finally met up with him… I learned he had betrayed me too.”
Aglio asked for more info. The Don of Passione complied with more lies. “He decided to side with Father Diavolo after helping orchestrate Sorbetto and Stracciatello’s death,” Giorno continued. “I tried to reason with him, tried to press further on what happened, but that’s when he struck first. I told him to back down and that I didn’t want to hurt him. As you saw how my Stand worked with the fly, he hit me with the shovel and… well, now you know how he got incapacitated.”
“Then why did my Stand mark you as guilty,” that was a hole that Aglio needed to be filled by the Don of Passione. Giorno suspected that the coin, although claimed to be an indicator of truth or lie, was simply based on pure chance. He still played along. “I don’t know,” Giorno shrugged with what he could; his hands were still nailed down. “Maybe there was something inside of me that wanted Luka dead. I never trusted or liked him as much as Sorbetto and Stracciatello. Possibly, the discovery of his betrayal must have stirred these feelings and caused your Stand to mark me.”
Aglio completely relaxed his arm— the blade stopped spinning completely and reverted itself into his normal hand before transforming the nails on Giorno’s hands into human skin and nerves.「Black and White」popped out of his skin and the mafioso caught it midair without much effort. The Don of Passione’s hands healed back to normal as if the nails were never here in the first place, though the pain still lingered. He moved his fingers and wrists to confirm that nothing was further damaged.
Aglio got himself off Giorno’s body and watched the other man get himself up; he refused Aglio's help to stand but thanked him nonetheless. The distance between them was still small and Aglio was still suspicious— although not enough to try attacking again. He stared at the other man’s face again, trying to decide whether what Giorno had said so far was the truth. “And what about Bruno,” he had to know why Giorno mentioned him earlier. “Why are you so interested in him?”
Although Aglio knew about Bruno and his father, the details of their relationship and lives were still private matters; Giorno took the opportunity to make up his lies about that based on what Bruno and Mista had told him regarding Paolo Bucciarati years ago.
“Bruno… his mother and I are acquaintances,” he had to be careful with his words but there were still some truths to them. “Signora Angelina recently asked me about her son and how she heard he was now involved in the mafia with his father. I wasn’t sure what she meant by that and thought I could investigate the matter once I dealt with Luka. I don’t know much about her and Paolo’s relationship, so I only knew that Bruno was Paolo’s son and nothing more. I didn’t know Father Diavolo killed him off too.”
“Bruno’s death hit his father hard,” Aglio mentioned with a sigh. “The old man joined Passione to raise his son after he was hospitalized years ago due to a drug deal gone wrong. Bruno was only a few years younger than me and the kid died because of an intentionally botched surgery. That surgery was one fo the punishments for Stracciatello’s crime against Father Diavolo. Signore Bucciarati hasn’t been the same since. I guess he never told her what happened to their son.” He tried to sound apathetic to the situation, but his voice indicated to Giorno that Aglio knew there was more to Bruno’s death than what he said. He could now confirm that any mention of the name Bucciarati wasn’t referring to Bruno but to his father now. He wanted to dive in deeper regarding the man. But, there were more pressing topics to discuss between the two Stand users right now.
Aglio looked at Giorno up and down, wondering whether he was the true leader of Passione standing in front of the former. There was no way that someone like him would resemble a Don, but Aglio himself had to admit that no one knew the true face of Father Diavolo either. He sure didn’t act like Father Diavolo. Aglio decided to give Giorno the benefit of the doubt and placed a hand into his jacket pocket.
“So,” Aglio asked as he pulled out the passport he swiped earlier, “what is your plan now? You don’t seem to have any remaining allies and Father Diavolo is currently the leader of your Passione. I assume I’m the only one who knows that you exist and you’ve come back to Naples with nothing but yourself. I may be a leader but I oversee one Hitman team— we haven’t been in the best of graces with Passione because of what you made Sorbetto and Stracciatello do. And because of what those two did, Signore Bucciarati and his team may not want to work with me either. What are you going to do now?”
“I… and Stracciatello and Sorbetro,” Giorno fibbed again, “we had a dream to protect the community and country we love.” He started to walk past Aglio and toward the same railing that the Don of Passione sat on years ago. Giorno commented on the beautiful scenery before him, admiring the blue ocean he grew up around. The horizon of blue skies and deep seas was just as magnificent as he remembered it.
Giorno was driven to not just stop the criminal practice of selling drugs to kids; he had more in mind to achieve. “I made Passione to save the lives of children,” he began his speech. “I had enough of seeing my school friends die from overdoses or from being abused by their own families because of the drugs. I thought I succeeded my goals by creating Passione but only did I realize Father Diavolo’s agenda used Passione to create more problems than solutions. Even with my dreams remaining the same, my goal now is more than that. I want to get to the bottom of the corruption that not only hurts Italy but the people of Passione. I want to rebuild Passione to serve the people and only the people— La Mia Familgia. I want to bring justice and avenge those who fell because of injustice. I want to avenge Sorbetto and Stracciatello.” It was a bold dream. But, like all those years ago, Giorno believed he could achieve it too.
“You know,” he continued his false narrative to convince Aglio further to join his side. Everything he was saying was a lie he hoped touched the mafioso’s heart further. “Sorbetto liked to talk a lot about you. Your situation, how you cared so much for your men. If you help me rejoin Passione undercover, work my way up to face Father Diavolo once and for all, I will give you the world. I will give you vengeance, justice, and freedom. I can even go out of my way to ensure you live a peaceful, free life with no further debts if you desire to leave the syndicate when all is said and done.” Giorno extended his hand to the mafioso. “Join me,” he motioned Aglio to accept it. “I’m sure you don’t want to miss this opportunity. Not just for yourself but for Sorbetto and Stracciatello too.”
Aglio laughed bitterly. Giorno wondered if he had spoken incorrectly and that what he said was going to backfire or if it was just a psychological act. The mafioso flipped his Stand in his free hand again; this time it landed on the innocent side. Giorno realized he had succeeded in persuading and internally sighed of relief.
“You did kill them after all,” Aglio refuted as he gave back Giorno’s passport. “You just sent them to their deaths and… everything makes so much sense now. Forgive me for being unable to process everything. I…” Neither had any intention of attacking the other once more. The mafioso continued to do coin tricks but simply to distract his hands as he processed what was told to him within a span of a few minutes. Giorno couldn’t tell that the mask was hiding a tear that just fell from Aglio’s left eye. The Don of Passione swore he heard a sniffle but decided to not comment on it.
“When Sorbetto came into our headquarters in nothing but thirty-six frames of formaldehyde for doing what you ordered him to do,” Aglio looked up at the clear sky above the two Stand users before clenching his fists, “I told my men to forget about him. I told them that he no longer exists and should not be avenged. We were allowed to bury him privately after the dust settled but Stracciatello… his team were forbidden to hold any service for him. Father Diavolo just had him cremated and scattered without notice. Our teams— we used to be so close.”
Giorno debated on whether he himself should pry on what Aglio meant by that last sentence but the mafioso continued to speak. “I vowed to do whatever I can to never lose my men in such a way ever again,” Aglio released his fists. “They… are all I have now. You understand that, right?”
“I’ve lost good friends even before I lost Sorbetto and Stracciatello,” Giorno sympathized. “I know what it’s also like to lose the people who I consider my family. I understand your pain and your concerns.”
Aglio looked at Giorno once more and began to walk closer to him; the distance between them grew smaller. “Do you really want your syndicate back,” he asked. “Do you want me of all people to help you? Like I said, I’m a part of a Hitman Team out of many other teams that might be stronger and more affluent to get you far. You should know by now that Passione Hitman Teams are the lowest rung on the ladder in terms of reputation. Not to mention, the death of Sorbetto and Stracciatello still taints our reputation to this day.”
“Sorbetto and Stracciatello would have wanted this,” Giorno nodded to confirm his decision. He was no longer the Don of Passione, but a low-ranked mafioso now— he is the Former Don waiting for the right moment to take back his crown. “Sorbetto especially would want you to have the honor of fighting for me. I will do everything in my power to reward you and your men greatly for your allegiance and loyalty to my cause,” he promised. “And I never go back on my word.”
A soccer ball softly hit Aglio’s shoulder before it landed and gently bounced between the speaking mafiosos. The same little kids that Giorno and Bruno encountered after their fight were also there, although slightly different in appearance, and Giorno watched the scene he witnessed years ago replayed right in front of him. The kids were hesitant to approach when they realized their ball had hit an adult but their faces turned to smiles when Aglio kicked the ball back at them without malice. Had Aglio not worn a mask, Giorno would have seen his face soften upon seeing the children now running away together to resume their soccer game. Somehow, the kids paid little attention to the body that was used earlier as a meat shield; the man was most likely dead by now.
“I actually have a bone or two within Passione to pick with,” Aglio mused before he turned his attention back to Giorno. “I’ll tell you what: I will join your political game. I’ll use whatever power I have to help with your journey; the best I can do right now is vouch for you as a potential candidate to join Passione. Once you get your position back, all I ask is that you help me get rid of people I despise. My men will only join if they choose to do so. They may have their conditions and deals to broker as well. More importantly…”
Aglio took Giorno’s hand and pulled him close so that the former’s mouth could whisper into the latter’s ear. “If at any point things turn for the worse,” his voice was low, “I won’t hesitate to go against you for the sake of the team. You will not hold me or men against you when it comes down to it.”
Giorno gripped Aglio’s hand into a solid handshake. “Deal.”
Translations:
- La Squadra Esecuzioni: The Execution Team. This is the Italian name often used to refer to The Hitman Team in Golden Wind.
- Pronto?: hello (on the phone). In Italy, phone calls are typically answered with "pronto". The person to initiated the phone call will say this and the other would respond with a regular hello back. Pronto literally translates to "ready, quickly".
- Fai attenzione!: pay attention!
- Bastardo: bastard.
- Signore: a title or form of address used of or to an Italian-speaking man, corresponding to Mr. or sir.
- Basta stronzate: cut the crap.
- Stronzate: bullshit.
- Signora: a title or form of address used of or to an Italian-speaking married woman, corresponding to Mrs. or madam.
- La Mia Familgia: my family. In the English dub of Vento Aureo, characters often refer to Passione as "La Familgia" and the phrase can be used to refer to a mafia clan or mafia family. In Passione's case, it is used in reference to the syndicate as a whole.
Name Meanings:
- Rey
- Rey: A nickname to be revealed. Spanish word for "king".
- Cass
- Cass: A nickname to be revealed. Latin name meaning "treasurer, clever".
- Paolo Bucciarati:
- Paolo: Italian variation of "Paul", meaning "humble, small". In reference to Paolo Bucciarati.
- Bucciarati: a play on the Italian cookie "buccellati". In reference to Bruno & Paolo Bucciarati.
- Bruno Bencivenga
- Bruno: German name for "to be tanned, brown, dark". In reference to Bruno Bucciarati.
- Bencivenga: Italian baptismal name that means "to be welcomed".
- Stracciatello
- Stracciatello: an Italian gelato known for chocolate shards created and mixed in while poured.