After knocking that bizarre Ghost Rider flying, Arale casually patted herself a few times and put out the hellfire. Those terrifying flames, which could make a hell steed howl in pain, could not even burn through a loose thread on her overalls.
Knowing that Arale's clothes were made of utterly ordinary fabric, Angela gained an even deeper understanding of her amazing little sister.
"All right, let's go home. That skeleton interrupted us, and now I'm not in the mood to keep playing."
Angela clapped her hands and spoke to Alice and Arale.
Although she was the second oldest, Angela usually took the lead among the three sisters. After all, no one could expect a ditz like Alice to give orders. Angela was much more reliable by comparison, though she occasionally caused a little commotion when she got carried away.
But before the three sisters could head home, a portal formed from a vortex of flames appeared out of thin air. The Ghost Rider who had been knocked flying earlier roared out of it astride his hellcycle.
"Hahahahahahaha!"
Seeing Ghost Rider appear again, Arale laughed happily and rushed over to meet him.
"Thump!"
Just before she collided with the hellcycle, Arale jumped, pressed her legs together, and swung her body sideways to kick Ghost Rider off the motorcycle.
Zarathos raised his arms in time to block, but Arale still kicked him off his bike, sending him flying into the distance like a shooting star once again.
"Charge!"
Arale landed on the hellcycle, grabbed the handlebars, and began barreling around on it.
Arale had long since lost interest in Ghost Rider, whom she had already knocked flying once and then sent flying again. Her attention was now entirely focused on the motorcycle, which suited her tastes perfectly.
But hellcycles had wills of