"The script doesn't just farm the game," the stranger typed, his character slowly walking toward Leo’s frozen avatar. "It farms the user. High-tier Stands require a lot of processing power. Human processing power."
Leo froze. How did this person know his real name? He tried to close the game, but his mouse wouldn't move. The golden Star Platinum behind him began to turn a sickly, oil-slick black.
The screen went pitch black. In the reflection of the glass, Leo didn't see his room anymore. He saw the brick walls of the digital Italy, and his Stand, now towering and terrifying, reaching out from the darkness to take his hand.
The moment the script executed, the game changed. His character, a basic avatar, began to move with impossible fluidity. He wasn't just playing; he was a ghost in the machine. He walked through the crowded streets of Italy, and with a single keystroke, his Stand—the legendary Star Platinum —appeared, not as a flickering spirit, but as a solid, golden god.
"Nice script," a chat bubble appeared over the stranger’s head. Leo smirked. "Jealous?"