"Oh?"
A glint of excitement flashed through Kamui's azure eyes. "Who are you people?"
Rob Lucci did not answer.
As if this top powerhouse of the Yato Clan were nothing more than an irrelevant backdrop.
That kind of disregard was more insulting than any provocation.
Bruno crouched down, holding the black umbrella steady in one hand as he rapidly examined Hosen's condition.
His movements were as professional as if he were servicing a machine.
"Multiple fractures, internal bleeding, moderate ultraviolet burns, severe dehydration. Good thing we arrived in time."
Bruno's voice was as steady as if he were reading a report.
"Another half a minute in the sun, and he'd be dead."
With that, he pulled another palm-sized black metal case from the inner pocket of his suit.
He pressed the tiny button on the right side, nearly flush with the surface.
The case began to transform, expanding and extending in less than three seconds.
A twenty-inch black carrying case appeared in Bruno's hand.
Its surface flowed with a dull sheen beneath the sunlight.
He set it on the blue tiles, entered a password, and opened the lid.
Then the most unbelievable sight occurred.
When Bruno moved Hosen's legs toward the opening, they automatically shrank from the ankles to the calves.
It was neither folding nor compression, but some kind of spatial "adaptation."
They were smoothly fed into the case, the entire process silent, efficient, and absurd.
Gintoki watched as Hosen's legs gradually disappeared into the case.
His dead-fish eyes narrowed into slits.
"Has the Ministry of Magic started enforcing the law across dimensions now?"
"But if you're really wizards, couldn't you cast a healing spell first?"
"The medical bill for this alone could buy me a year's supply of strawberry milk."
"And that dirty old man isn't even a