Salvador Harrison and Georgia Geovana exited the bus into a small car park. To the south-east was Stonehenge, ancient and intimidating. Salvador put his arm around Georgia's waist.

“Ugh, what a creep!” thought Georgia. “I bet he peeps on girls while they're sleeping too – maybe even takes pictures of them in the shower!”

Georgia’s ears perked up. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“Hm? 'Fraid not, madame,” replied Salvador.

“Huh, must have been someone behind us…”

The pair of teenagers stepped onto the grass. The man with the trident piercings walked out of the bus, alone. He began spinning a cell phone in between his thumb and forefinger.

“See, Zarco, this is why I trust you,” said the trident man. “You get the job done when no one else can. We're not even at the monument yet, and already your Dead Skin Mask is attached to one of the enemies!”

The man let go of the phone. The device remained suspended in mid-air, but began to spin in reverse.

“Now... it's time for me to step in and finish the job. My Tubthumper will finish off those cultists – I promise it as your capo, Zarco!”

The phone stopped spinning, and gravity took over. The trident man took a step forward, catching the phone in his shirt pocket as he did.

Georgia and Salvador walked towards the monument.

“So, Geo-Geo, what's the plan?” said Salvador.

“We start at the circle – the hint is most likely hidden there. If we can't find it, we'll work our way outwards.”

“Understood, ma'am!”

The duo continued their march through the field. Walking beside the teenagers were a pair of identical men, dressed as 19th century jungle explorers. An older tattooed woman with a snake-headed cane shambled behind the pair of explorers, enjoying the view and fresh air. Leading the pack was a twelve-year-old boy, with a black jumpsuit and a dark, spiked mohawk. The trident man was laid atop of a nearby grassy mound, holding a manila folder open. As the group of tourists passed, the man cleared his throat.

“Harry Warhol!”

Georgia and Salvador stopped in their tracks. Georgia looked at the trident man as he put the folder back in his jacket.

“Surprised I knew that name?” said the gangster. “Or curious as to who I am? Yes... I'd say about 40% surprised, 46% curious, and... 14% frustration? Interesting... is that frustration directed at me? Your boss? Or perhaps... your boyfriend over here said something to upset you?”

“Who are you?!” demanded Georgia.

“Up to 23% frustration! That boyfriend line must have struck a bit of a nerve!” chuckled the pierced man. “To answer your question... my name is Alexander Obol. I am in charge of research for the Greek branch of an underground organization known as Passione.

Alexander Obol paused to scratch his chin. “No... not research. What's that word in English for when you get people to give up information that they wanted to keep a secret?”

Georgia opened her mouth.

“Interrogation! Thank you!” blurted Obol. “Now... to business. I heard you mention working for a man named ‘Harry’ back on the bus. And it just so happens that ‘Harry Warhol’ is one of the many people whose departure from Passione always seemed suspicious to me. So, tell me, girl. This Harry Warhol – would you say he's the leader of your organization? Or just the boss of some sub-group?”

“I... I have no idea-” stuttered Georgia.

“Hmm... I'm getting both ‘yes’ and ‘no’ from you,” mused Obol. “Perhaps... he's technically your boss, but you think you're the real leader? Of course, that's just speculation on my part…”

“Wh-what's going on, Georgia?” gasped Salvador. “How does he know all this stuff?!”

“Frustration up to 27%,” taunted Obol. “For the record, little boy – your friend over there is under attack by a stand named Dead Skin Mask. The mask stuck needles into 43 acupuncture points in your friend's face, and through those acupuncture points is able to access her subconscious. No matter how hard she tries to hide information from me – she can't cover up the feelings deep within her heart.”

Alexander Obol stood up, and twirled around on one leg. His back was turned to the teenaged pair.

“You should feel free to remove Dead Skin Mask at any time, by the way. Just, please let me know before you do – I kind of get squeamish when I see the muscles torn off of a person's skull.”

“Now's my chance!” thought Georgia.

Georgia dashed up to the mound. She kicked down with Shattered Dreams to leap into the air, and wound up for a punch.

“Woah! Determination just completely overtook all your other emotions!” marvelled Obol. “Smart call, attacking while my back's turned – Dead Skin Mask isn't a very physical stand. Unfortunately for you... my stand is not Dead Skin Mask.”

A humanoid stand appeared behind Obol. The stand had legs like a bull, a tail like a rope, a head like a baby, and a muscular body the size of a small airplane. The stand gently flicked Georgia in the head. Georgia's upwards movement slowed. Suddenly, she was yanked back to the ground where she started her jump, slamming down feet-first. She was dragged back to where she was originally standing next to Salvador, scraping up the grass along the way. Georgia collapsed onto the soft dirt. Salvador kneeled, reaching over to the girl beside him.

“I'm sure you've stretched out a rubber band and let go before,” said Obol. “It springs back into place, no? That is the power of my Tubthumper. Anything my stand touches will be gently guided back through its movements in the past ten seconds.”

“All right, Georgia,” whispered Salvador, “Got any plans to fight this guy?”

“No... not gently…” muttered Obol. “What's that English word for when something is really powerful and you can't stop it?”

“He can read my emotions... but you have a stand too, and it's pretty stealthy,” whispered Georgia. “Use it to catch him off-guard.”

Salvador nodded.

“Forcibly! That's what I was thinking of!”

Georgia sat up, brushing some dirt off her legs.

“So... Obol, was it?” said Georgia. “I suppose you're here to stop us from getting our hands on Giorno's treasure?”

“I am,” replied the gangster. “I don't know quite what your dark goals are, but I cannot let them be realized! But... it seems you think differently. Indignation... that treasure is... your birthright? Intriguing. But now... you're feeling smug about something? Smug like... you had me monologue as a distraction?”

A claw appeared on Obol's shoulder. His eyes turned, and he saw a blue teddy bear-like stand climbing up his back. Obol looked down to see a red teddy bear on the ground behind him, holding two red pins.

“Now!” yelled Salvador. “Good Vibrations!”

“Kokokoko!” cried the pair of teddy-bear stands.

The red Good Vibrations stuck its two red pins into the ground, and the blue one stuck three blue pins in Obol's face. Obol's feet fell out from under him, and he was pulled towards the ground.

“Shit!” thought Obol. “Is this a ‘rubber band’ ability like mine? Or something different?”

“Run!” screamed Georgia.

Georgia and Salvador dashed off as Obol's face crashed into the ground. The two Good Vibrations followed them, struggling to keep up.

“Heh. Foolish children,” muttered Obol. “You may think you have me trapped... but all you've done is give me a source of momentum to exploit!”

Tubthumper appeared and tapped Obol. Obol swung upwards into a standing position. Tubthumper kicked into the ground, and Obol leapt forward towards Georgia and Salvador.