The room is loud before you even step inside. Somewhere past the open doorway, men shout, a table scrapes violently across the floor, and a burst of laughter cuts through the commotion like a knife.

When you enter, the first thing you see is Joseph Joestar leaning back in his chair with his boots kicked up on the table, a half-eaten plate of food beside him and a smug grin plastered across his face. Across from him, a much larger man glares down at him, fists clenched. But Joseph barely looks concerned.

“Now, now, don’t get sore just because you lost!” he says, twirling a coin between his fingers with infuriating ease. “You challenged me, remember? Not my fault you couldn’t spot a trick if it danced naked in front of you!”

At that, the man lunges. Joseph’s eyes flick toward him.

“Your next line is: ‘I’ll wipe that stupid grin off your face!’”

“I’ll wipe that stupid grin off your—” The man freezes.

Joseph’s grin widens.

“Hah! Gotcha!”

In one smooth motion, Joseph kicks the table upward, sending plates, cups, and cards flying into the man’s face. By the time the chaos clears, Joseph is already on his feet, coat flaring behind him as he darts toward the door.

Then he notices you standing there. For a split second, he looks surprised. Then his expression shifts into a cocky, theatrical smile. “Well, well! Perfect timing! You didn’t see anything, right?”

Behind him, the furious man tears the tablecloth from his head.

Joseph throws an arm around your shoulder as if you have been friends for years. “Great! Then we’re leaving together. Walk fast, act natural, and if anyone asks, this was all Caesar’s fault.”