Death Battle: Joseph Joestar vs Mr. Satan

Prelude here: https://brendansversus.wordpress.com/2020/06/03/prelude-joseph-joestar-vs-mr-satan/

Alright, the combatants are set. Let’s end this debate once and for all! It’s time for a Death Battle!

——————————————————

South City, 12:30 p.m.

Throughout the bustling streets of South City, two people were turning the heads of everyone surrounding them. The first was a young blonde woman who wore a fanciful pink dress. Her hair had been tied in a chignon, though there were several strands that stuck out from the sides of her head. But it wasn’t this woman that was drawing everyone’s attention. That honor went to the man she was holding onto.

He was tall, with an extremely handsome face and a well-built body that would’ve made most men feel self-conscious. His brown hair was short and unkempt, with some of his bangs shooting out in the form of spikes. Despite this, it wasn’t his face or body that was drawing their attention; rather, it was his incredibly… odd attire.

His upper body was covered by a dark green tank top that cut off above his navel, showing off his chiseled midriff. A pair of blue pants covered his legs, with a leather belt being used to hold them up; and his feet were obscured by a pair of knee-length leather boots. Wrapped around his neck was a long, green scarf adorned with yellow stripes. His hands were covered by a pair of green fingerless gloves that were studded at the knuckles, and it was the left of said hands that seemed to be drawing everyone’s attention. The reason for this was a simple one: rather than being flesh and blood, it appeared to be a prosthetic made of metal.

This was Joseph Joestar, grandson of Jonathan Joestar and, unbeknownst to the general populace, the savior of humanity. Only a month prior, he had beaten the Pillar Men, a race of ancient creatures who wished to conquer their weakness to the Sun. Currently, he was on his honeymoon with Suzi Q, his newlywed wife. She had convinced him to spend their time in Japan, and they were currently touring the metropolis known as South City in search of somewhere to eat.

“Oh, that looks like it would be perfect!” Suzi said excitedly as she grabbed hold of his arm.

“Hey! Wait! Suzi Q!” Joseph called out, sounding slightly irritated as his wife unintentionally dragged him around.

Three minutes later, an annoyed Joseph was sitting at one of the many tables adorning the restaurant, which was apparently called Satan Cafe. Suzi Q was sitting across from him, the expression on her face indicating that she was enjoying her meal. Joseph was also eating, albeit at a slower rate. He could feel his stomach turning, but it wasn’t from the food. No, that was decent. His problem was with literally everything else!

The cafe’s furniture, accessories, the dozens of framed pictures and news clippings- hell, this entire place was dedicated to Hercule Satan, a martial artist who had become world-famous after defeating an infamous monster known as Cell. When he’d first heard this bit of news, Joseph had scoffed.

From what he’d heard on both the radio and the news reports, that “Cell” guy had been responsible for wiping out an entire military base’s worth of men and vehicles. So hearing that one man could beat someone like that with only a single karate chop had Joseph doubtful. What he’d seen in the interviews, skimmed from the surrounding clippings, and watched from the clips of martial arts tournaments playing on the mini TVs was only pouring fuel to the fire. In the span of a few seconds, he’d basically figured Hercule out.

For all his boasting and fame, this guy was nothing more than an arrogant jackass who was way too obsessed with his own image and backed out of a fight when met with a more powerful foe. In short, this guy’s reputation was full of crap, and it pissed Joseph off. Here he was, putting his life on the line to save the world from evil, and this asshole was getting everything a man could ever want after faking a victory against a similar threat!

Despite this, the Brit quickly calmed himself down and continued eating. It would only be a few more days here, then they’d be heading back to New York. It was nothing to get so worked up over. Besides, he didn’t want to ruin his honeymoon with Suzi.

‘And really,’ he thought to himself, ‘what are the chances we’d meet Hercule Satan in here, of all places? He probably doesn’t even know this restaurant exists!’

Unbeknownst to Joseph, he couldn’t have been any more wrong in thinking this, as the very man he was thinking about was currently making his way down the street. With every step that Mark “Hercule” Satan took, another member of the surrounding populace flocked over to him, likely to shower him with praise or attempt to get him to sign their autographs. Standing in front of the crowd of fans were several cameramen or newscasters, all of them pointing their microphones or cameras at him and bombarding him with questions.

Despite the headache-inducing screamfest that surrounded him, Mr. Satan was somehow managing to keep a straight face as he attempted to answer everyone’s request, though this was quickly degrading with each passing step. This continued for several minutes until the champ, with visible exasperation on his face, turned to the crowd and flashed a fake grin.

“Alright, folks! I know you all have some autographs or merchandise for me to sign, but you’ll need to wait until my interview’s over. That okay?” Upon hearing this, his audience quieted down and began muttering in agreement. With a sigh of relief, Mr. Satan turned around-

BONK!

-and immediately smacked into a microphone that had been pointed at him. Stumbling back, Hercule could just barely be heard briefly muttering several curses under his breath as he rubbed his injured cheek. After massaging his new injury, he looked back at the mic, only to then shift his gaze to one of the nearby cameras.

“Sorry about that, Mr. Satan, but I needed to ask this question: what’s your opinion on the new restaurant that was just opened down the street?” The bearded newscaster asked, holding his mic centimeters from the celebrity’s face.

“Uh… the new restaurant?” Hercule questioned as he looked around the area. Upon spotting the cafe that bore his namesake, he chuckled. “Oh, right… the Satan Cafe! Yeah, I was just about to check it out, maybe get some lunch there, just make sure they aren’t tryin’ to exploit my image for their own profit. I mean, I did work up a bit of an appetite during that last tournament!”

While this last part was somewhat true, it was also a bit of an excuse for him to try and get the paparazzi off his back. Yeah, he appreciated their support, but he couldn’t possibly focus on the interview and satisfying their requests at the same time. Each question needed some time for him to respond, and a crowd of fans roaring in your ear made the chances of that happening nigh-impossible. He could only hope the fans would be able to take the hint and leave him alone.

Unfortunately, it seemed that he had placed too much trust in their intelligence. One minute later, and the visibly annoyed champ could hear the entire crowd follow into the restaurant, all of them sporting eager expressions and talking rather loudly. He wasn’t the only one to share this sentiment, as Joseph sat at his booth, completely gobsmacked at what he was seeing.

‘I just had to open my mouth, didn’t I? And the paparazzi with him, too? Great! This- this is just perfect! Now we’re going to have to deal with this guy’s ego AND his army of fans! You might as well gag me right now!’ He thought furiously as he watched the waiters take Mr. Satan and the crowd to their seats. As if the Joestar’s luck couldn’t possibly get any worse, Hercule was now sitting several feet away from where he and Suzi Q were eating, with the fans constantly singing their hero’s praises. It was really starting to piss him off, and to make matters worse, the cameramen had started rolling once again!

“Jimmy Firecracker here, and with me is the man himself! You know him, you love him, you buy his merchandise no matter what it is! Standing right behind me in the Satan Cafe is none other than the longest-running champion of the World Martial Arts Tournament, the man responsible for killing Cell himself, Mr. Sa-“

“Hold it right there!” A British-accented voice called out, causing the entire crowd- including Hercule himself- to look toward its direction in shock. No one had ever dared to interrupt an interview with Mr. Satan before, but Joseph Joestar was more than willing to be the first! The second JoJo had his index finger pointed forward, aimed directly at the champ’s face.

“What’s this?” Jimmy asked in surprise. “It seems that some rude delinquent is trying to interrupt the champ’s latest interview! Who would have the nerve- nay, the gall to-“

“I’ve had it up to here with hearing everyone sing your praises, Hercule!” Joseph announced, cutting off Jimmy’s accusations. “Everywhere I go, people are talking about how you’re the ‘savior of the people,’ ‘the man who defeated Cell,’ and I gotta say, it’s kinda impressive.”

“Well, tha-“ Hercule began, but his accuser quickly cut him off.

“Impressive how you’ve managed to convince everyone of your bullshit!” At hearing this, everyone in the crowd gasped, though whether it was because of the accusation or the foul language was anyone’s guess. “I’ve seen your performances in the martial arts tournaments and against Cell! How you’ve convinced anyone with those poor attempts at acting is beyond me, but I’m going to show everyone here what you really are: a lying, arrogant coward!”

This accusation caused everyone in the audience to gasp once again, this time in surprise. Among them was Mr. Satan himself, his expression contorting into one of visible shock.

‘Wait, WHAT? J-just who is this guy, and how’d he figure me out? He’s not one of those guys from the Cell Games, is he?’ Upon getting a closer look at his accuser, he quickly determined that wasn’t the case, but that still didn’t change a thing. He needed to defend himself before this guy tried running his mouth any further!

“Oh yeah?” Hercule asked, trying his best to mask the panic in his voice as he looked Joseph in the eye. “And where’s your proof? Unless you can magically prove that I’ve been lying this whole time, that hearsay of yours doesn’t mean crap!”

“Oh, I’ve got all the evidence right here.” JoJo said as he pointed toward one of the TVs sitting behind him. Displayed on the monitor was one of the champ’s tournament performances, where he began kneeling and complaining about his stomach upon noticing that his opponent was still raring to go.

“Oh, the pain! My stomach! Ah, it hurts!” The Hercule on TV complained, his tone sounding horribly unconvincing.

“Pretty convenient how you just so happened to get a stomach ache when you realized you had no chance of winning.” Joseph pointed out. The crowd looked over to Mr. Satan, waiting for his response.

“Well, that was jus-“

“Or how about your performance at the Cell Games, where you ‘beat’ Cell?” The Brit cut him off as the TV displayed footage of Mr. Satan charging forward, only for Cell to ring him out by nonchalantly backhanding him into a mountain.

“You’re taking that outta context! I slipped just before I could hit Cell!”

“Really? Then let’s see that footage again!” As he said this, Joseph walked over to the TV and, after taking a breath, injected some sort of golden energy into the device. The moment he did so, the video played once again, this time slowed down frame-by-frame. “Maybe you’d like to point out where exactly you slipped.”

“Of course I will! It was… uh…” the champ’s confidence quickly fell as he realized there wasn’t an exact frame where he could claim such a thing occurred. He couldn’t even say that the video had been edited, as it was clearly archived from live camera feed. This realization caused most of the audience to either begin eyeing their hero with suspicion, or murmur about what they’d just seen. They weren’t alone in this assessment either, as the millions of viewers watching this in their homes began noticing how their idol had frozen up at the Brit’s words.

‘Crap! This kid’s already picking me apart! Think, Mark, think! There’s gotta be some way to shut him up!’ As he tried mulling it over, Hercule’s ears picked up a shout from one of his fans in the background.

“Come on, Mr. Satan! Don’t let this guy push you around like that! You’ve fought Cell and Majin Buu! You’ve saved the world from the worst threats it’s ever faced! So, come on! Show this cocky bastard what happens when you try to tarnish the reputation of Hercule!” A young man in the middle row screamed, his voice loud enough that it drowned out the other members, all of whom went silent and looked at him in surprise. Turning around, Mark’s surprised expression met the hardened gaze of a short-haired brunette wearing a backwards yellow cap and periwinkle t-shirt.

Much to Mr. Satan’s surprise, another person- this one a raven-haired, ponytailed woman in a pink dress- was the next to speak up.

“Yeah, you can do it, Mr. Satan! I believe in you!” As she finished speaking, her husband followed suit. Then another one. And another one. And another one! Within the span of a few seconds, the entire restaurant- excluding Joseph and a seemingly oblivious Suzi Q- had risen to their feet, their voices shouting out passionate encouragement to their hero. Even the ones who’d begun doubting him were now raising their voices in support! This positive reinforcement was enough to snap the celebrity out of his concerned funk, and he proved quick to save face with a cocky smirk. Closing his eyes, the afro-sporting celebrity turned to face Joseph, arms confidently folded over his chest as he began chuckling.

“Heh, heh. Ehehehehe…” These chuckles then crescendoed, evolving into full-blown laughter. After a brief fit of confidence-fueled hysterics, the conman looked Joseph in the eye before he spoke. “Alright! Maybe I can’t point out where I slipped, but that doesn’t change a thing! If you want me to prove myself, then how ‘bout we settle this with a fight?”

After thinking it over for a second, Joseph responded to the offer.

“Sure! In fact, I know just the place to settle this. But first,” The Joestar paused and turned to address his wife, “Suzi, I’ll be back in a few minutes. Something just came up that needs my attention.” Suzi nodded in understanding, and with that Joseph and the others began making their way to the exit. They soon found themselves gathering in the restaurant’s parking lot, with Hercule confidently striding toward him. Crossing his arms once again, the champ began chuckling.

“So this is what ya had in mind, huh? Well, I can think of worse places to fight.” He admitted with a shrug. “Besides, it’s not like it matters where we take this, since either way you’re giving the entire world a front row seat to me proving myself to any other doubters that’re out there.”

“Or it’ll be a front row seat to me proving your entire career is a complete sham!” Joseph responded before dramatically pointing at him. “In fact, how would you feel about agreeing to a bet? If I win, you have to admit to the entire world- on camera- that you’re a fraud.”

“And what about when I win?” Mr. Satan smirked.

“If you win,” JoJo corrected, “then I’ll take back everything I accused you of. On live TV.”

“Alright. I think I can get behind that.” Hercule agreed as he entered a fighting stance. “Though it’s gonna be pretty embarrassing to propose something like that when our fight’ll only last for a few seconds.”

“Oh, you have no idea, Hercule.” Joseph responded, a cheeky grin on his face as he followed suit.

The crowd of fans waited, fully ready to witness their champ defend himself against this slanderer. Despite this, both combatants weren’t paying this any mind. They were too busy getting themselves psyched up for the fight. Brown eyes met blue as their bodies tensed up in preparation. Then, after what felt like an eternity, one of them chose to act!

 

Eager to prove himself to his fans, Hercule lunged forward and threw out a left cross. For a brief moment it seemed that the punch was about to make contact, but this changed when Joseph moved to the right, causing the celebrity to instead fly past him. Before Mr. Satan even had a chance to recover from this mistake, his opponent threw out a sweep kick, giving a sarcastic “oops” as he sent the mustached champion tumbling to the ground. Just as it seemed that Hercule was about to land face-first into the concrete, he planted his hands against the ground and pushed, shooting him into the air for a brief moment before coming back down with a loud CRASH!

Upon hitting the ground, Mr. Satan wasted no time in rushing toward Joseph, this time throwing a straight punch to the chest. The moment it made contact, the Brit found himself coughing up spittle, but he proved quick to recover. And he was just in time, too!

Believing he could exploit the brief opening in his adversary’s defenses, Mark began throwing out a swift combo of punches and kicks, all aimed at the vulnerable parts of Joseph’s body. One could imagine his shock as his opponent not only parried each one, but was doing so with an almost casual air! In fact, he was even going so far as to taunt him!

“You know, for someone who’s supposed to be an accomplished martial artist, you don’t seem to be getting in as many shots as I’d thought. Hell, if you’re going to miss me this much the least you could do is put some effort into your hits!” He joked in between blocking the punches.

“And just whaddya think I’m doing? Tryin’ to show off for the crowd by draggin’ this out?” Hercule asked irritably.

“Would it really surprise you if I answered yes?” Joseph responded, smirking. At hearing this, Mr. Satan’s glare hardened as he threw out a right hook. Much like the other times, however, this was quickly intercepted, this time by Joseph’s open palm.

“Seems like I touched a nerve there! Wonder why that is?” JoJo asked sarcastically as he gripped the captive fist. Desperate to get his opponent to shut up, Hercule attempted to go in for another punch, but history repeated itself as his target grabbed the other fist. “I mean, the only reason someone could be that quick to attack would be if they were hiding something. Maybe there’s something you’d like to share with the rest of the class, Herc- ack!”

Whatever Joseph was about to say became cut off as Mr. Satan slammed into him with a powerful headbutt, causing his grip to weaken. Realizing this opportunity wouldn’t last, Mark proved quick to throw out a swift combo.

“Those are some pretty big assumptions, kid! But unless you have the skills to back up what you’re sayin’…” Hercule responded as he laid down three crosses to the face before immediately following with nine rapid kicks to both the chest and stomach. As he noticed Joseph begin to recover, Satan grabbed hold of his jacket. “You’re all washed-up!” He finished as he threw the Joestar several feet through the air.

Quickly leaping after him, Hercule threw out another swift barrage of punches, delivering 20 blows within the span of a few seconds. As they hit their peak of ascension, the champ cupped both hands together and reeled them back, fully prepared to send the trickster crashing back down to Earth! Unfortunately, he would learn the hard way that his opponent had recovered faster than expected, as Joseph proved by suddenly backflipping through the air. Both boot-clad feet slammed into Hercule’s chin, striking with enough force to reverse his momentum and send him hurtling through the air. They landed almost immediately, Joseph perfectly on his feet and Hercule unceremoniously onto the cement back-first. In spite of the rough landing, he proved quick to leap back to his feet, and upon doing so he heard Joseph call out to him.

“Smooth landing there, man.” He said sarcastically, a grin still on his face as he watched Hercule’s brow crease. “If you ever get tired of fighting, you could try applying for a crash test dummy. After all, you’ve got a lot in common: you’re both thick-skulled and seem to be gluttons for punishment.”

“And maybe after you lose this fight, you could focus on becoming a comedian, since ya sure love to hear yourself talk!” Mr. Satan taunted as he ran toward Joseph once again. While closing the distance between them, he reeled back his fist, preparing to deliver a straight punch to Joseph’s face.

“Thanks for the suggestion,” JoJo began as the fist sailed toward him, pausing for a slight moment to catch the fist in his hand. “But I’d rather not follow the advice of a clown like you.”

As he said this, Joseph gripped the hand and yanked it forward, taking Hercule along with it. Just as they were about to collide with each other, he suddenly threw out a knee strike, forcing the conman to cough up spittle.

“In fact,” Joseph offered as he grabbed hold of Satan’s gi, “why don’t we start your circus career now?”

Before Hercule even had a chance to respond, his attacker threw him into the air, eliciting a series of surprised screams and “WHOA”’s from the airborne celebrity. He was violently flapping his arms through the air, almost as if in a vain attempt to fly, but this attempt would soon come to an end as he met his destination: a table on the outskirts of the Satan Cafe, one that was still covered by an uneaten plate of spaghetti, a knife, and a glass of soda.

The moment he landed on the table, it snapped in two, causing him to crash onto the ground as the table’s occupants were launched into the air. The spaghetti, fork still sitting atop its plate, was soaring into the air, while the knife had managed to shave off a small patch of Hercule’s afro and sent it onto the plate’s edge. As he watched the plate begin its descent, Joseph’s mind went into overdrive as he lunged forward and caught it, already planning several things he could use it for. Looking down, he noticed the clump of hair and quickly grabbed hold of it, stuffing the seemingly mundane item into his jacket.

Meanwhile, Hercule was in the middle of getting back to his feet, groaning in pain as he did so. The first thing he noticed was Joseph now twirling a forkful of spaghetti from the plate.

‘The hell’s this guy doing?’ He thought to himself before speaking aloud. “Hey, ya know we’re still fighting, right? Maybe you should try waiting ‘til we’re done to get a victory snack!”

“Oh, this isn’t a victory snack. It’s just something I wanted to test out. With how poorly you’ve been at fighting hand-to-hand, I bet I could beat you even with this plate of spaghetti!” Joseph boasted.

“Hahahaha! You must be joking, right? And how exactly do you plan to use somethin’ like that in a fight?” Hercule asked cockily.

“Well, since you’re so curious, why don’t I give you a demonstration?” Joseph asked before taking a deep breath. The moment he did so, a golden energy spread throughout the fork, entering into the noodles and causing them to straighten out. In tandem with this, the sauce sitting atop the pasta shot forward, hitting Hercule in the eyes faster than he could’ve hoped to react. A pained scream emerged from his throat as he rubbed his eyes, desperate to ease the pain of several dozen spices hitting him in the corneas. While this occurred, Joseph pulled each of the noodles back before suddenly releasing them, causing each one to rocket forward. They made contact with Hercule almost immediately, eliciting a grunt of pain as the edible ammunition became embedded in his pecs.

“Ah! What the-“ he asked as his vision returned, allowing him to see the impromptu projectiles that had hit him. Confused by this, he grabbed hold of each one, upon which a golden energy exited out of them and made them go limp. The moment this happened, Mr. Satan let out a high-pitched scream as he threw them away.

‘Oh God, what was that? W-was it that ki stuff that Goku and those other guys used?’ He thought fearfully, only for his gaze to shift back to the audience of fans watching the fight unfold. Upon seeing their confused reactions to what had just occurred, he cleared his throat and began speaking, making sure his voice was loud and clear enough to mask his internal terror. “Well, what do we have here? Looks like Mr. High and Mighty over there’s decided to try resortin’ to some cheap parlor tricks to try and one-up me!”

“Excuse me?” Joseph said, his voice loud enough to be heard over the vicious booing of Mr. Satan’s fanbase. He was insulted, not only by Hercule’s accusation of needing to cheat to win, but also by what he’d just said about his Hamon skills. “So after what just hit you, you think my Hamon’s all fake?”

“Well, yeah! I mean, if it was legitimate, why wouldn’t I be able to use it? After all, if some phony like you could use it, why wouldn’t an accomplished martial arts champion- like myself- be able to do the same thing?” Hercule responded, a cocky grin on his face as he folded his arms over his chest.

“Oh, I could think of several reasons, but let me assure you, my Hamon is 100% genuine!” Joseph defended, giving a wry grin as he continued with “In fact, I’ll even prove it to you!”

As these words left his mouth, the brunette began focusing the Sun-like energy into his plate, forcing it to spread through his makeshift weapon. Once his meal was filled to the brim, Joseph let out a shout of “Overdrive” as he threw the plate like a frisbee, causing it to hurtle toward Hercule at supersonic speeds. Despite having little time to react, its would-be target still managed to throw himself to the side, causing it to sail right past him. Before he could make a sly comment, however-

BOOM!

SPLURTCH! SCHLICKT! SCHLICKT! SCHLICKT! SCHLICKT! SCHLICKT!

The spaghetti exploded like a time bomb, sending its sauce and dozens of blade-like noodles into Mr. Satan’s back. The spices in the condiment irritated his skin, while the noodles were causing a stinging pain to spread throughout his back. But if Joseph thought this was enough to keep Hercule down, however, he was dead wrong!

With nothing more than a brief flex of his muscles, the noodles shot back out of Hercule’s body, causing him to sigh in relief.

‘Looks like this guy’s decided to start cuttin’ loose!’ He thought as he rubbed his now sore back. ‘Then, in that case, I guess it’s only fair I do the same!’ With this thought in mind, he looked back at JoJo and smirked.

“Alright, kid. You wanna start fighting dirty?” He asked as he reached into the side of his gi and pulled out a new weapon: a .45 caliber pistol. His smirk morphed into a wide grin as he continued with “Then let’s start bringing out some real weapons!”

“Alright, then! But before I unveil mine, why don’t I be a good sport about this and let you get the first shot?” Upon hearing this, Mr. Satan’s steel gaze faltered a bit.

“W-what?” He asked, sounding heavily confused. He figured this guy would back off once he saw how serious the fight would get, or that he’d be even the slightest bit worried at having a gun pointed at his face. Offering to let him take the first shot wasn’t what the newfound gunslinger had expected! Was this some kind of trick? Was he planning something?

“Some time this year, old man!” Joseph snapped, sounding slightly annoyed at his opponent’s indecisiveness.

“Huh?” Mr. Satan asked in confusion, Joseph’s response having cut off his thought process.

“You heard me! You’ve got a pistol pointed straight at me- fully loaded, no doubt- and your finger’s already on the trigger! Are you going to fire, or was your plan to just try and intimidate me by showing that you were willing to bring it to this level?”

“Uh… well, I… Hey! What’s that over there?!” Hercule shouted as he pointed behind Joseph, praying his opponent would take the bait. At hearing this, Joseph’s eyes narrowed as his already irritated brow furrowed even more.

“Do you really expect me to fall for that?” He asked bluntly. “A five year old might fall for that kind of crap, but what makes you think that I, a goddamn adult, would make the same mistake?”

“Um…” Mark gulped. ‘Crap! Looks like this guy’s smarter than he looks!’ 

‘Just how the hell did this jackass become the “Champion of Martial Arts,” let alone the “Savior of the World”? At this point I’m thinking the only way he could’ve beaten Cell was if the poor bastard laughed himself to death!’ JoJo thought furiously.

‘Alright! Maybe I can’t psyche him out, but I can still just go for the old-fashioned way!’ Mr. Satan declared internally, punctuating it by pointing the .45 caliber at Joseph’s torso.

“Oh, what do we have here? Looks like someone finally remembered they have a gun in their hands.” Joseph said, faux amazement in his voice before it returned to normal. “Now the only question remains, will he be able to use it in time?”

“In time for what?”

“Oh, I’m glad you asked.” With this, JoJo quickly swiped something from one of the nearby tables. Pointing it forward, the champ saw what it was: a bottle of tequila, its cap pointed right at him. “Unless you fire your gun by the time I get to three, the cap on this tequila will shoot off and interrupt you right then and there! One… two…”

Though this ultimatum left him confused, Mr. Satan proved quick to take Joseph’s advice as he took aim with his pistol. Just as he prepared to pull the trigger, however-

“THREE!”

POP!

True to his word, the cap on Joseph’s tequila rocketed off, sent flying through the air by a stream of Hamon-charged alcohol. Bizarrely enough, it whizzed past Hercule, instead slamming into the ceiling above him. For a brief second, the supposed victim blinked in surprise once. Twice. Then, as he realized the makeshift ballistic had missed him entirely, he began chuckling, a cocky grin appearing on his face as he spoke.

“What was that? I could’ve sworn you said I’d be interrupted before I could-“

CONK!

The champ’s taunt was cut short as one of the light fixtures above him suddenly came loose and slammed onto his head, causing his eyes to go cartoonishly wide. As it fell off, Hercule took a brief moment to massage his now-aching head, thinking he’d still have time to attack Joseph once he was done.

One could only imagine his surprise when he looked up to see that the Joestar had closed the distance between them in that brief window of opportunity, making it known with a powerful kick to the face. A resounding CRACK could be heard as the exposed leg slammed into his nose, forcing the unfortunate conman to cry out in pain as he was sent hurtling through the air. Upon hitting the ground back-first, a loud noise could be heard as Hercule’s gun clattered against the terrain. Quickly scrambling toward it, the former student of Satan Castle reached out and snatched it from the ground. Then, with surprisingly swift reflexes, he aimed it toward Joseph and repeatedly pulled the trigger, sending five rounds flying through the air.

Upon being faced with the sight of these slugs rapidly approaching him, the Joestar’s only response was to smirk as he began focusing Hamon through his arm. Then, without a second to lose, he took out the clump of hair he’d grabbed earlier and tossed it through the air. The moment he did so, each individual strand rocketed forward, quickly straightening themselves out and bending their trajectory while still in midair. Within the span of a few microseconds, JoJo had taken a patch of Hercule’s seemingly worthless hair and formed it into some sort of makeshift barrier! And if this hadn’t been enough to surprise his opponent, what happened next would!

As it turned out, the barrier was actually managing to deflect the bullets with ease, with the slugs clattering to the ground each time they collided.

‘Alright, so my gun’s not makin’ the cut against that shield. There’s gotta be some other way to get rid of it! I mean, it’s just a bunch of hair! It can’t be too hard to break through, right?’ Hercule thought as he placed the pistol back into his gi and began searching for another capsule. Upon finding what he was looking for, the champ grinned as he pressed down on its top. The moment he did so, the bottle exploded into a smokescreen before revealing its contents: a lone hand grenade.

Quickly removing the pin, Mr. Satan wasted no time in throwing the pineapple forward, fully confident that it’d be enough to bust through the hair barrier. As he saw this, Joseph responded by diving out of the patio and to the right, intent on using one of the nearby vehicles as cover. Unfortunately, the explosive acted faster than he’d expected.

BOOM!

A massive burst of fire and smoke erupted outward, sending the Joestar flying toward his intended defense with enough force to create a painful CRUNCH! His shoulder had taken the full brunt of this landing, slamming into one of the doors with enough force to leave a visible dent.

“GAH! Sonuvabitch!“ he muttered under his breath as he nursed his newfound injury.

While this occurred, the explosion began clearing up, allowing a relieved Hercule to see that his plan had worked. Looking even further, a grin began to form on his face as he saw that Joseph was currently laying on the ground, still clutching his new shoulder.

“AHAHAHA! Well, looks like ya got a bit overconfident there! Just goes to show that some stuck-up punk who relies on tricks and glowy special effects can’t compare to a lifetime of good, old-fashioned training!” Hercule boasted as he sauntered toward the Brit, his arms triumphantly folded over his chest as he did so. The crowd burst into cheers. There was no doubt that Mr. Satan had won this! Now all that was left for him to deliver a coup de grâce to this slanderer!

But before he could even have the chance to do so, a new sound its way to the crowd’s ears. It was Joseph, chuckling as he pushed himself up.

“Would you care to repeat that?” He asked mockingly as he put one hand up to his right ear. “Are you saying you can take whatever I dish out, no matter what it is, just because of how hard you’ve trained?”

“Ya got that right, kid! It doesn’t matter what you pull out! I’ve got your number, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it!” Hercule responded, emphasizing his point by dramatically pointing at his recovering adversary.

“Really? Then let’s test that, shall we?” Joseph asked rhetorically, a cheeky grin on his face as he lowered a hand into his coat. “You just stay right there,” he offered as he grabbed hold of something sticking out of its flaps, “and we’ll see how confident you are after taking a few rounds from THIS!”

As he spoke that last word, the trickster suddenly whipped out a Tommy gun, which he’d seemingly pulled from the confines of his suit, and aimed it forward. The sight caused everyone in the audience to gasp in shock, with Mr. Satan taking a step back in fear as sweat ran down his face.

“W-wait a minute! That’s cheating, isn’t it? Come on, kid! W-why don’t ya try and fight fair?” Hercule pleaded, constantly stuttering due to his nervousness.

“Clearly you’ve been spending too much time in the spotlight, old man! We’re not fighting in a tournament, so anything’s fair game here! I could’ve sworn you knew that from the start, or are you forgetting about how you pulled a gun on me a minute ago?” Joseph pointed out, sounding slightly irritated as he reminded his adversary of the last fact.

“Um- well-“ whatever Mr. Satan was about to say died in his throat as he watched his opponent point the SMG directly at his chest. With panic overtaking his mind, the champ let his instincts take over and dove to the side just as JoJo pulled the trigger. The bullet missed its intended target by several inches, but the sound of it impacting the concrete was enough to send the crowd into a frenzy. Everyone was running around in an desperate attempt to avoid any further gunfire, but none of them were more desperate to survive than Hercule, who had wasted no time in ducking behind a nearby car as several rounds flew past his head.

‘Just how crazy is this guy? First he’s using food as a weapon, then he’s attacking me with beer, then he’s defending himself with hair, and now he’s opening fire in public? Where’d he even get that Tommy gun?’ While these thoughts ran through his head, the World Champion reached into his gi once again, this time unveiling a blue capsule. ‘Well, if he wants to pull crap outta thin air, maybe I’ll do the same!’

With a grin on his face, he pressed down on the capsule’s top button and tossed it to the ground. A smokescreen shot out for a split-second before almost immediately vanishing to reveal the secret weapon Mr. Satan had up his nonexistent sleeve.

“Alright, kid! Maybe I couldn’t take a few of those rounds from that Tommy of yours, but let’s see if you can handle something like THIS!” The World Tournament winner shouted as he unveiled his newest weapon, causing Joseph’s eyes to widen in shock at what it was. Resting above Hercule’s shoulder was a massive rocket launcher, its barrel aimed right at his torso.

“OH SHIT!” The Joestar shouted as his opponent pulled the trigger, firing off four rockets that rushed toward him at supersonic speeds. For an ordinary person, they likely would’ve been blown up before they even had time to process what was heading toward them. For a Hamon user like Joseph, however, the missiles were moving slower than molasses, giving him enough time to recover from his momentary surprise. Closing his eyes, the trickster took a deep breath, causing Hamon to begin encompassing his body once more. Then, upon opening them, they began to shine with determination as he raised the now Hamon-charged Tommy gun to chest-level. With a quick bit of mental math, Joseph fired off one energy-infused round, aiming at enough of an angle that the frontmost rocket exploded upon contact, with the Ripple creating a burst of energy that flowed through the shrapnel and sent it flying back. This would result in a chain reaction as the debris sliced through the other rockets, creating more explosions that coated the entire street in smoke.

Despite the smoke blinding him and the overwhelming cries of surprise from the crowd, JoJo’s Hamon-enhanced senses allowed him to hear the otherwise inaudible sound of Mr. Satan rushing toward him, no doubt attempting to capitalize on his perceived blindness. Unbeknownst to the fake hero, Joseph was also planning to capitalize on its existence, albeit in a far different way!

Hercule rushed through the smokescreen, having armed himself with the rocket launcher’s barrel to serve as a makeshift bludgeon. He was only a few inches from where he believed the Joestar had gone. Believing victory to be in his grasp, the champ swung his makeshift weapon with all his might…

Only to hit thin air, which was soon followed by the feeling of something grabbing hold of him from behind. Mr. Satan’s body tensed up upon realizing this, but before he could even try to free himself his mysterious captor cut him off. Rather than it being a punch or kick, however, they went for a more unorthodox method: roughly dragging their knuckles across his head and occasionally grinding them in. Although this noogie felt mildly uncomfortable at worst, it was about to become even more painful as his attacker slammed their knee into his face three times. While in the middle of these attacks, Hercule could’ve sworn he felt something wrap around his arm, but these thoughts were quickly silenced by a third blow. Once this final attack had connected, Hercule’s attacker, wasting no time, quickly released him and delivered a powerful kick that sent the celebrity tumbling across the ground. Upon coming to a complete stop, the champ looked back up and found himself staring his attacker in the face. Joseph responded to his opponent’s frown by flashing a larger grin before taking a deep breath as he gave the scarf in his hand a sharp tug- wait, what?

For a brief moment, Mr. Satan’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as he felt something tighten around his arm, followed by an overwhelming heat searing through his forearm. Looking toward its direction, he found himself in shock at what he saw. Wrapped around his wrist was Joseph’s own scarf, currently crackling with Hamon.

“Well, it seems you finally caught on! And here I was pegging you as the learn from experience type.” The Joestar jeered as he continued pouring Hamon through the fabric, focusing it into one target: Mr. Satan. The moment it made contact, the champion of martial arts felt the captive limb go completely numb, and the energy was proving quick to spread itself through the rest of his body! As this realization ran through his head, Hercule began rummaging through his gi, searching for the right weapon that could deal with this situation. Upon seeing this, Joseph cocked an eyebrow in confusion. Just what the hell was this guy trying to do?

Whatever it was, he didn’t plan to find out, as he personally demonstrated by violently pulling on his scarf. This decision proved to be a double-edged sword, however. On one hand, he had pulled Hercule closer toward him; on the other, his supposed target had already covered and was already preparing another attack: his infamous Dynamite Kick! The tournament champion was soaring toward JoJo at supersonic speeds, fully prepared to plant this slanderer in the dirt where he belonged! Just when it was inches from hitting him, though, the trickster noticed an opening in his attacker’s defense, and with a quick breath-

“Rebuff Overdrive!” Joseph threw out a Hamon-infused elbow, ramming it directly into Hercule’s crotch. The moment it made contact, Mr. Satan let out a high-pitched gasp of pain, one that was shared by all of the men in the crowd.

While this was occurring, Joseph’s Ripple-enhanced senses allowed him to notice several objects held tightly within the pockets hidden inside Satan’s gi. From what he could tell, their contents were entirely made up of some sort of capsules.

‘So this is what he was searching for, huh?’ JoJo thought to himself. For a moment he thought they might be painkillers, but he quickly brushed that thought aside. Given when Hercule had been looking for them, it’s safe to say these weren’t medication, especially considering how many there were! So that left one question: just what the hell were those capsules for?

His thoughts drifted back to two minutes prior, when Hercule had seemingly pulled that missile launcher from nowhere. At first he thought the old man was a fellow expert at legerdemain, but now he was beginning to question that notion. Turning his attention back to the current situation, he noticed that Mr. Satan’s gi was still open, leaving its contents exposed for him to see… and free to take!

‘Well, I guess we’ll see in a few seconds if this little hypothesis of mine actually holds water!’ Joseph smirked as he reached into Hercule’s pocket and swiped the capsule closest to his left. While quickly stuffing it in his jacket, JoJo also made sure to unwrap his scarf, put it back on, and quickly grabbed hold of a loose string he’d noticed dangling from the gi. His mind was already going into overdrive as he devised several plans for this seemingly minute action, all of them dedicated to exposing Hercule for the cheating bastard he is! While this was happening, his unfortunate opponent hit the pavement, landing with a loud THUMP!

“You… ugh… who’d go for… oagh!” Hercule struggled to speak as he got back to his feet, still reeling from the nut shot he’d just taken. The pain proved quick to fade, and with it he began calling Joseph out. “Who would go for a low blow like that in a fight?”

“Like I said a few seconds ago, anything’s fair game in a fight! Or are you finally showing your age, old man?” Joseph taunted, a cheeky grin on his face as he emphasized the last words. At hearing this, Mr. Satan’s expression briefly became one of irritation, but immediately after that something seemed to click, and he responded with a grin of his own.

“Heh, heh! I see what you’re doin’ there. You’re trying to get me all riled up, making me angry enough that you’ll be able to play me for a chump!” As he said this, Mr. Satan pointed forward before continuing by saying, “Well, you can keep dreaming! After all-“

“Next you’ll say, ‘there’s no way you can string me along that easily!’“ Joseph said, speaking in unison with Hercule. The moment he realized this, the tournament champ gasped in surprise, a reaction that was shared by the rest of the audience as JoJo grinned.

“And what makes you think I need to piss you off just to get inside your head? Even right now, I’ve already planned for whatever crap you try to pull!” Joseph asked, a grin still on his face.

“Is that so?” Mr. Satan asked with a smirk as he reached into his gi. “Then let’s see how you’ve planned to deal- uh…” Whatever boast he was about to make died in his throat as he found himself grasping at thin air. Confused by this, he began patting against his top in a desperate attempt to find what he needed, but to no avail.

‘What the-? I coulda sworn it was right here!’ He thought to himself as he continued rummaging around. Sweat was beginning to run down his face, a sign of his growing nervousness at the situation.

“What’s the matter? You’re looking a bit stressed out.” Joseph said, his tone almost taunting Hercule. Placing his free hand into his coat, he continued with “Maybe it’s because you’re busy looking for this?” As he finished speaking, the Joestar whipped his arm back out, revealing the capsule to both Mr. Satan and his audience.

Needless to say, the sight of his opponent pulling out the very item he was looking for left Mark bewildered. As he watched his adversary’s expression become contorted, Joseph grinned before declaring, “And now you’ll say, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never seen that before in my life!’”

Seemingly unaware of what his opponent had just said, Mr. Satan looked back at him, his confused expression becoming a dismissive smirk as he spoke.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never seen that before in my life!” He chuckled, only to gasp in shock as he realized that Joseph had just played him for a fool once again.

“Is that so?” The trickster responded, cocking an eyebrow as he smirked. “Then maybe you’d like to explain all of THESE!”

With that, he sharply tugged the nigh-invisible string on Hercule’s top, creating a small hole in the internal left pocket. As soon as it had appeared, dozens of capsules fell out from the destroyed pocket, causing the crowd to gasp once again as their hero became surrounded in a pool of the minuscule devices. Mr. Satan looked down at the pile in horror, then he slowly shifted his gaze back toward his legion of fans, who were all staring at him in wait for an explanation. An awkward silence pierced through the area, causing Hercule to begin sweating at an even heavier rate.

“Well? Come on. Don’t keep your fans waiting. Tell them why you were patting your shirt like that if you weren’t trying to search for one of those capsules.” Joseph suggested, a shit-eating grin on his face as he watched Mr. Satan stutter nervously in search of an explanation. Surprisingly enough, the conman did manage to get out an explanation, though it was certainly one that caught even JoJo off guard.

“Oh, don’t try to give me that crap!” Mr. Satan said, his expression contorting into an accusatory glare as he pointed at Joseph. “It’s obvious you were the one who put them in there when you went for that shot to my crotch!” This gave way to another period of silence, one that went on for what seemed like an eternity. Then, as if his brain had finally comprehended the utter stupidity of his opponent’s words, Joseph exploded.

“WHAT?!” He screamed furiously. “Just how the hell did you come to that conclusion? Are you that desperate to not seem like a cheating jackass? I don’t even think your fans would believe that kind of crap!”

“Well, let’s see what they have to say!” Hercule responded, turning to face his audience. “What do you guys think? Who sounds like they’re telling the truth here: your hero, who risked his life to save all of you, or some punk that tried to smear my reputation outta jealousy and keeps going for cheap hits?”

While his opponent was busy trying to see their spectators’ responses, Joseph, seeing another gaping opening in his adversary’s defense, immediately rushed forward.

“I’ve got one even better. Instead of waiting for their approval, why don’t you try staying focused on our fight?” The Hamon master suggested, his tone one of hot-blooded fury and irritation at his opponent’s attitude. Upon hearing the Brit’s voice so close to him, Mark’s head whipped back around in shock. Before he even had the chance to make eye contact, a sudden right hook slammed into his jaw. The champ staggered back for a brief moment, but before he could fully recover, Joseph had already followed up with a left hook, this time making direct contact with his already injured nose.

“GAH! Again with the cheap shots!” Mr. Satan muttered under his breath as he continued stumbling back. With the savior of the universe now distracted, Joseph rushed forward and slipped a small present into his gi, stuffing it in the same pocket that had once held his capsules. Then, with the sharp tug of the same loose thread from before, he dove behind a nearby truck just as Hercule was beginning to recover.

“Alright, now where’d you… go?” The martial artist asked, his tone going from annoyance to confusion as a ticking sound reached his ears. Looking down, he reached into his gi and quickly pulled out what was responsible: a hand grenade. His eyes widening in fear, the champ could only speak two words before he heard a CLICK:

“Ah, crap!”

BOOM!

A brief flash of white coated the street, followed by a massive smokescreen that obscured the area. Once it faded, Joseph looked out from behind his cover, fully expecting to see that Mr. Satan had been knocked out or at least knocked back by the explosion. Instead, what he saw caused both his and the audience’s jaws to drop in shock.

“What the hell am I looking at?” He screamed in frustration. Standing before him was Hercule, his gi now reduced to tatters and his body covered entirely in soot and ash, but somehow still conscious and unmoved. In fact, all the explosion seemed to have done was left him mildly stunned, and he was quickly shrugging that off, too!

‘Alright, it seems he’s a bit tougher than I thought.’ Joseph admitted as he reached into his pocket. ‘But with how he’s still recovering, I might just have a shot at ending this now!’

With this thought in mind, he pulled out his secret weapon: a pair of metal balls held together by a string. Taking a deep breath, Joseph began focusing Hamon into the clackers, using the string as a conduit to charge both of its balls. Once they were filled to completion, the British trickster began twirling his makeshift weapon around, producing an audible crackling sound as each one flew faster and faster, quickly reaching the point where it had become a blur. Then, once he felt he’d built up enough momentum, JoJo let out a powerful scream as he hurled the clackers with all his might!

The impromptu weapon soared through the air, its trajectory currently aiming at the head of the still recovering Hercule. For a brief moment, it seemed that Joseph’s victory was close at hand, but then-

“Watch out, Mr. Satan!” A bystander in the crowd shouted, trying to warn his savior of the impending doom.

“Huh?” Hercule muttered in confusion. As he processed this warning, his ears began to pick up an unusual crackling noise, one that seemed to be growing closer with each nanosecond. Taking a brief moment to look toward the source of the sound, his eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as he saw the clackers rushing toward him at blinding speeds. For a brief moment, it seemed as though the warning had been for naught, as the clackers were only a few inches from his face…

But then, in what could only be described as a stroke of blind luck, Mr. Satan managed to tilt his head at the last possible second. The clackers flew past him, only managing to lightly graze his cheek before embedding themselves into a nearby building. As he looked back at what had almost hit him, he sighed in relief.

‘Good thing that guy managed to warn me. Otherwise that thing might’ve put me outta commission!’ He thought to himself. Shifting his gaze back toward his opponent, Hercule found himself staring at an irritated Joseph and responded by giving a cocky grin.

“Oh, sorry! Was that supposed to be for me?” He asked rhetorically, gesturing toward the clackers before laughing.

“Sorry. I guess my pitch was a bit off.” The Joestar paused as he once again placed his hand in his jacket, this time pulling out two clackers. The sight of this was enough to cause Mark’s expression to falter, if only for a brief moment, and it would soon come crashing down when he saw the next part of Joseph’s attack. Taking a deep breath, the Brit once again filled his weapons with Hamon.

“But I’ve still got a few more left in me!” JoJo declared, this time pulling off a decent Bruce Lee impression as he rapidly swung the clackers around his body. He was swinging so quickly that it was nearly impossible to keep up with him! All the audience could see were vague, golden blurs darting around Joseph’s body, and then they disappeared entirely!

‘The hell? Where’d they go?’ Mr. Satan thought to himself in confusion. His eyes briefly darted around the arena, desperately searching for some sign that Joseph’s clackers were near him. Upon finding nothing, he quickly returned his gaze to JoJo, who he found was still sporting the same cocky smile on his face.

‘That can’t be good.’ Hercule thought as he continued looking around. There didn’t seem to be anything headed toward him this instant, but that would likely change soon enough!

“Well, well! Would you look at that? It seems my clackers have suddenly vanished into thin air. Or maybe I’ve used my Hamon to make them invisible?” As he said this, Joseph’s grin became larger. “I mean, I could tell you the answer, but you know what they say: ‘A good magician…’”

The brunette paused for a brief second as he flexed his muscles. The moment he did so, an audible stretching sound could be heard, followed almost immediately by a distinct SNAP!

“‘Never reveals his secrets!’” He finished as the clackers, which had previously been tied behind his back, suddenly flew forward, with Joseph releasing his grip on them mid-flight. As a result, the impromptu weapons shot toward Mr. Satan at hypersonic speeds, and while he wouldn’t be able to react in time, the World Champion still closed his eyes as he braced himself, ready to feel the inevitable pain.

One could only imagine his surprise when, rather than having his bones snapped by two steel balls, nothing seemed to happen. In fact, it was as if the clackers had disappeared into thin air!

Opening his eyes a bit, Hercule looked down at himself, only to find that he was completely unharmed. Looking back up, he found that Joseph was still sporting the same grin as before.

“Let me guess: you’ve still got something planned, right?” Satan asked.

“With how pig-headed you are, I don’t even need to plan that far ahead! I could probably outthink you even while I’m asleep!” His opponent boasted.

“Is that so?” Hercule chuckled as he pulled out a new capsule. ‘Please let this be the one I think it is!’ He prayed, pressing the cap and tossing it to the ground as it exploded into a cloud of smoke. Once it dispersed, the pill’s contents were revealed: a white jetpack with a red Capsule Corp logo plastered on its middle. At seeing this, he let out a mental sigh of relief before strapping it on.

“Then let’s see how you outthink this!” He taunted, a burst of flame emerging from the pack and sending him flying into the air.

The champ’s uproarious laughter could be heard echoing across the entire block, only stopping once he’d felt he hit the peak of his ascension. Once he’d done so, he looked down and flashed JoJo a shit-eating grin.

“So whaddya plan to do about this, huh? Unless you’re hidin’ a jetpack under your sleeves, all you’ve got left are a couple- hm?” Mr. Satan’s taunt was cut off as an he began to hear a faint but all-too familiar crackling sound. Realizing what it was, he began leaning to the side in an attempt to avoid it, but unfortunately for him, it would seem luck wasn’t on his side.

From behind him, spinning at inhumanly fast speeds, were the clackers Joseph had used earlier. While the first had only served as a distraction rather than the instant KO their owner had hoped for, it seemed the newest pair would pick up its slack! In only the past few seconds, the clackers had built up an impressive amount of speed, and they only seemed to be growing with each microsecond. The metal toys would soon hit their peak, and then-

FWOOSH!

The second clacker shot forward, fully intent on slamming into either Hercule’s body or his jetpack. With the signature crackle of Hamon growing louder by the second, he proved quick to shift himself to the right, intent on avoiding an extremely painful bludgeoning.

The signature CLANG of metal colliding against metal could be heard by the entire crowd, followed by an orchestra of extinguishing flames and a sputtering engine. Despite knowing this could only mean one thing, Mark looked back at his jetpack and gave a nervous gulp at what he saw. As it turned out, the clackers had struck with enough force that one of the jet’s thrusters had shattered, now reduced to hundreds of metal shards and debris.

‘Ah crap!’ Hercule thought to himself, followed by a high-pitched, girly scream as he began descending through the air. In a desperate attempt to prevent himself from slamming back-first onto solid concrete, he began rapidly smacking his fist against the remaining thruster. By the fifth punch, the thruster had come to life, though it had come at a price. While its flames had managed to save him from being injured, its newfound lack of balance had led to him darting all over the place, hanging on for dear life as he tried to find a safe spot to let go. He expected this would happen soon, but it seemed fate was not on his side. The thruster shot him through the air at a downward angle, and with it he found himself hurtling toward the one spot he hadn’t wanted to be in: directly toward Joseph. To make matters worse, the Brit had somehow managed to arm himself with a sledgehammer. JoJo brought both arms back, almost as if he was some sort of baseball player, and then- once Hercule was close enough- he swung as hard as he could!

KRACKT!

The hammer slammed into Hercule’s face, striking with enough force that his nose audibly broke. This pain was enough to make him release his grip on the thruster, and without any support the champion was sent crashing into one of the many buildings behind Joseph. Quickly recovering, he noticed that he was now upside down, as he was now viewing both Joseph’s smug grin and the audience’s surprised expressions through the gap between his spread legs. Placing both feet against the ground, he wasted no time in hopping back up, repositioning himself so that he’d land upright. As he took a brief moment to check his now broken nose, Mr. Satan heard Joseph call out once again.

“So is there anything left for you to embarrass yourself with, or are you ready to hold up to your end of the bargain?” Turning to face him, the martial artist’s expression soured as he met JoJo’s infuriating grin. “After all, I’d be glad to keep humiliating you like this, but I also wouldn’t mind getting back to the table before my lunch gets cold!”

“Well, if you’re feeling hungry, then maybe you won’t mind tasting a sample of my Megaton Punch!” Mr. Satan offered as he ran forward at top speed, emphasizing the sentence with a straight punch that slammed right into Joseph’s cheek. For a brief moment, the champ grinned, but this would soon falter into a look of shock as Joseph powered through the punch and glared at him furiously.

“Uh… I mean, it was just a suggest-” Mark’s attempt at defending himself was cut short as his would-be target retaliated with his own attack, this one being a left hook accompanied by his clackers.

CRACK!

The moment it made contact, Hercule stumbled back, clutching at the newfound head injury. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t concentrate enough to push through the pain, and his attacker really wasn’t helping matters.

With each second that passed, the frequency with which Joseph swung his clackers would continue to increase. His arms couldn’t even be seen at this point, but Mr. Satan could still feel each one make contact. At this point the champ wasn’t sure if Joseph was just trying to knock him out or actually kill him, but either way he didn’t intend to find out!

In a desperate attempt to turn the tides of battle, Mr. Satan performed his trademark Dynamite Kick, slamming his foot directly into JoJo’s stomach. Though this seemed to have no effect, it proved to be part of the plan as the battered celebrity kicked off of his adversary’s body.

With the grace of a swan, Hercule flipped through the air, just barely avoiding Joseph’s latest hit. While still in midair, he reached into his gi and, in a surprising burst of speed, threw out the first weapon he could grab: a Game Boy. The handheld Nintendo console smacked its British target in the face, causing him to briefly stagger back. Before his opponent could even recover, Mr. Satan pulled out a detonator and quickly pressed against its button. The Game Boy flashed a bright white, and then-

BOOM!

It burst open into a massive explosion that sent the Joestar skidding back. With this gaping window of opportunity before him, Hercule wasted no time in rushing forward and once again unleashed a rapid combo of punches and kicks. Unlike before, however, this time he was using his full strength for each blow. After what had happened last time, there was no way he’d let Joseph recover!

‘In fact, he’s not gonna pull one over on me anymore! This little charade of his ends right now!’ Hercule thought to himself as he lunged forward, intent on finishing the battle with a full-powered uppercut. The fist was mere inches from JoJo’s face, but it was then that something unexpected happened!

Just when it seemed that the uppercut was about to make contact with his face, Joseph, with the aid of his Hamon-enhanced reflexes, leaned to the side. The fist brushed past his cheek, moving so slowly that it gave him plenty of time to deliver a counter attack. With this knowledge in mind, the Hamon user threw out his own arm, focusing the Sun-like energy through the limb to form a-

“ZOOM PUNCH!”

-that launched it forward, causing it to elongate like rubber and send Mr. Satan rocketing back. Once he felt the technique had hit its peak in length, Joseph grabbed the celebrity by his gi and dragged him back at hypersonic speeds.

“What? How did you-“ Hercule struggled to ask, still trying to catch his breath from the Hamon-infused sucker punch.

“At this point, you should realize what the answer is, but just in case I’ll give you one last demonstration! Hooooooh….” Joseph took a deep breath, causing Hamon to begin rippling all throughout his arm. Once he felt he had gathered enough, the Brit’s gaze steeled as he declared “Take this! Hamon Overdrive!”

With inhumanly fast speed, he struck the prone celebrity with an energy-enhanced karate chop to throat. The moment it made contact, Mr. Satan could only let out a strangled series of gasps as he felt something enter into his body.

It was hot, almost to the point of overwhelming him, and it was beginning to make his body audibly crackle. Its influence spread with each passing nanosecond, raising his body temperature by several degrees and causing him to break out into a cold sweat. His vision was beginning to blur, and dozens of spots were dancing around in his vision. His clothes had become damp with sweat, and at this point there was so much heat building up that he felt he was going to explode! The energy inside of him reached its peak, and then it just seemed to… stop.

In what could only be described an anticlimax, all of the pent-up energy seemed to leave Hercule’s body, though this wasn’t a cause for celebration. He seemed to be paralyzed, almost as if his entire body had gone fully numb, and he couldn’t move no matter how hard he tried!

“Wh-what’s going on here? What did that gold crap of yours do to me?” He asked, his tone confused and slightly fearful as he looked at Joseph, whose eyes now shone with a mischievous glint.

“Oh, that ‘gold crap’ wasn’t much, just a small jolt of Hamon into your system. It’ll only last for about a minute.” He explained, only for his grin to widen as he continued with “But that’s more than enough time for me to kick your ass with these!”

As he finished speaking, the Joestar pulled out another pair of clackers. At seeing them, Mr. Satan gulped, as he realized just what his captor was planning to do with them.

Reeling his arm back, Joseph then proceeded to quickly slam the metal balls against Hercule’s cranium, eliciting a pained grunt. Refusing to let it end there, however, he began rapidly swinging the impromptu weapon through the air, creating an orchestra of painful-sounding CLANGs and CRACKs as the clackers repeatedly collided with Mark’s skull. Joseph’s Hamon-enhanced speed ensured that he hit the opponent hundreds of times with each passing second, and each blow resulted in the martial artist either gaining another bruise or losing more blood. To Hercule, it felt like this intense bludgeoning would go on for eternity, but it would soon come to an end as his attacker reeled his weapon back.

“And now for the grand finale!” Joseph shouted triumphantly as he took a deep breath, injecting more of the Sun-like energy into his clackers. Then, once they’d been filled to the brim, he swung as hard as humanly possible!

CRACK!

The weapon made contact with Satan’s skull one final time, hitting with enough force that its target was sent hurtling through the air! Then, with all the subtlety of a falling piano, Hercule slammed into the ground, producing a massive crater beneath his muscular form.

Upon feeling solid ground beneath him, the bloodied and battered conman attempted to place his hands against the ground, tried to push himself back up, to do anything! But no matter how much he exerted himself, it seemed he couldn’t budge an inch.

“C-come on already! Move, dammit!” He muttered, still trying to fight the inevitable. While in the middle of doing this, however, he noticed a massive shadow looming over him and slowly looked up. The moment he did so, Hercule found himself staring at the grinning mug of Joseph, who leaned over and quickly lifted the celebrity into the air.

“I’ll give you this, Hercule, you’re a pretty stubborn bastard, but even you should realize when you’re outmatched!” He announced. Upon hearing this, Mr. Satan grunted as he tried to move once more, but after a few seconds he sighed and let his body go limp.

“Alright, kid. Ya got me. I give.” He responded dejectedly.

“Great! Now, about that deal of ours…”

“Deal?”

“Come on!” Joseph said, sounding somewhat playful as he twisted Mark’s body around. “Are you telling me you actually forgot the whole reason we started this fight in the first place?”

Hercule stared at the audience, who all looked back at him with expressions of astonishment, disappointment, or disbelief.

“Oh, right. Our deal…” He muttered dejectedly as Jimmy Firecracker approach the two former rivals. Making matters worse was that the cameraman was directly behind, ready to film the champ’s confession to the entire world.

‘Well, I guess my fifteen minutes of fame were fun while they lasted.’ The former celebrity thought to himself as Jimmy pointed the mic at his face, ready to begin another interview. Much like before it would be covering Hercule’s career, but now it was focusing on a different subject: his soon-to-be-plummeting downfall.

 

 

—

 

And true to his namesake, Mr. Satan falls from grace!

To put it bluntly, this match wasn’t even close. In fact, it’s one of the biggest stomps I’ve written so far, probably even more than Scrooge McDuck vs Mr. Krabs. Strength-wise, Hercule caps out at Wall Level due to chopping 14 tiles in half, and given that he wasn’t hurt by doing this, it would also scale to his durability. By contrast, Joseph would be City Block Level due to fighting against the Pillar Men. The Pillar Men are naturally above vampires, among which include Phantom Blood Dio, who tanked this cruise ship’s explosion.

Speed also goes to Joseph, as he’s been able to react to a beam from the Red Stone of Aja, a feat calculated to be 2.324 times FTL. In fact, he’s likely faster since he’s been able to keep up with Kars, who can react to a UV beam at anywhere from 9.6 – 41.71 times FTL. So Joseph takes the stat trinity pretty handily. What about everything else?

Experience goes to Mr. Satan since outside of being the older of the two, his constant attendance in martial arts tournaments put him above Joseph, but only by a slight margin. Intellect and strategy both go to Joseph, since he’s often shown using his mind to analyze opponents for weaknesses and exploiting the environment to his advantage. In fact, given that he’s used this strategic mindset to overpower more experienced opponents, Hercule’s experience advantage ultimately didn’t matter. Unlike his opponent, Mr. Satan’s only ever used his mind to think up lies and pull off simple tricks on the Dragon Ball populace, most of whom are complete morons and nowhere near Joseph when it comes to intellect.

When it comes to arsenal, Hercule’s explosives gave him the edge in destructive capability, but Joseph countered this with his arsenal’s versatility (as seen with his Tommy gun, grenades, sledgehammer, crossbow, and clackers). Additionally, as mentioned above, his strategic mind could let him think up new weapons on the fly by exploiting the environment to his advantage. If he ever had a reason to, he could use either the Joestar Secret Technique or Near Death Survival Technique to stall for time and think up another plan. If that didn’t work, he could just bust out his ultimate weapon: the Red Stone of Aja. When combined with either the sunlight or his Hamon (which will be explained below), it would fire off a beam that moves too fast for Hercule to react (as shown in the first speed calc) and is more than strong enough to burn through him.

But Joseph’s advantages don’t end there: there’s also his Hamon. This gave him a massive edge in versatility, since he could use it to boost his physicality further (widening the stat gap in the process); heal off any damage Mr. Satan could inflict (if he ever does get damaged); boost the strength of his weapons; or he could combine its durability-negation with his vastly superior speed to one-shot Hercule.

Finally, there are their techniques, and Joseph dominates even in this department. Mr. Satan’s just got basic punches, kicks, or a combo of both. By contrast, Joseph’s Overdrive could boost the strength of his weapons (as mentioned above), or give him better long-range options by focusing it through a bottle of liquid. His Hamon Hair Attack gives him defensive options. Hamon Overdrive could burn through Mr. Satan’s body until it explodes. The Zoom Punch and Clacker Volley are both larger options for long-range, while the Clacker Boomerang is that plus an attack that gives him an edge in unpredictability. And if he was ever backed into a corner- well, I mentioned how he could use the Joestar Secret Technique and Near Death Survival Technique above.

To summarize, Hercule had the more destructive weaponry and an edge in experience, but Joseph took this due to outclassing him hard in the stat trinity, having a more strategic mind, being craftier, possessing a more varied arsenal, and being more versatile thanks to his Hamon.

Looks like Hercule’s chances of victory were nothing more than a Ripple in a pond.

The winner is Joseph Joestar.

Joseph Joestar (Winner)

+ Leagues ahead of Mr. Satan in the stat trinity
+ Eclipses Mr. Satan in intelligence and strategy by miles
+ Larger arsenal, which is only furthered by his craftiness
+ Hamon let him boost his stats further, gave him better versatility, and could negate Hercule’s durability
+ Joseph’s techniques > Hercule’s
– Less experienced
    + But he’s used to fighting more experienced opponents
– Less destructive weaponry
    + Though his craftiness made this a nonissue

 

Hercule Satan (Loser)

+ More experienced
    – But Joseph’s used to fighting opponents who have this advantage
+ More destructive weaponry
    – Which Joseph could counter with his craftiness
– Literally everything else