[You could just say no, little buddy. Giorno cranes his neck up to look at them. It's honestly such a conundrum. In an ideal world, which this obviously is not, he would feed only on the guilty, and these men are obviously guilty. On the other hand . . .]
[Put it this way: he is used to finer food than refuse.]
[Oh, well.]
Do you think they deserve to die a painless death?
[This time he doesn't wait for an answer. He chooses two of them, and his vines unravel again, sliding up the trunk to wrap around their necks and tighten. The third, ostensibly the leader, is trapped, watching.]
no subject
[You could just say no, little buddy. Giorno cranes his neck up to look at them. It's honestly such a conundrum. In an ideal world, which this obviously is not, he would feed only on the guilty, and these men are obviously guilty. On the other hand . . .]
[Put it this way: he is used to finer food than refuse.]
[Oh, well.]
Do you think they deserve to die a painless death?
[This time he doesn't wait for an answer. He chooses two of them, and his vines unravel again, sliding up the trunk to wrap around their necks and tighten. The third, ostensibly the leader, is trapped, watching.]
[So that's his opinion.]