Phinks's arm had already spun five times. Now that he had calmed down, he didn't rush to attack again. Instead, he taunted, "Other than that lasso just now, you don't have any other long-range attacks, do you?"
"My Ripper Cyclotron gets more destructive the more times I spin my arm. That flimsy lasso of yours won't do a thing to stop me."
"You can only get close to me, and the moment you do, you'll be within range of my Ripper Cyclotron."
Phinks applied psychological pressure with his words. Combined with his naturally provocative face, it was enough to disrupt the thinking of most opponents.
But it had no effect on Gelman.
"This situation is the same for you," Gelman said. "You don't have any long-range attacks either, and all your destructive power is concentrated in your Ripper Cyclotron. It's too obvious."
"If I dodge this attack, you'll have to start charging up all over again. I'm guessing you're so calm because you're waiting for your teammates to back you up? Hmm... That's not what I expected. I didn't realize you relied so much on your teammates."
"Hmph!"
He's provoking me! Don't let his words get to you!
Phinks frowned and gritted his teeth. His arm had spun seven times, and the aura he'd gathered was glowing a faint golden color.
But Gelman's expression suggested he wasn't just bluffing... Wait, the bar on the far left of the three beside him had been only a third full of blue before. Now it was almost half full...
So it really was some kind of progress bar. But what exactly was it tracking...?
A sudden flash of insight struck Phinks. He glanced to the wound on his left arm, where Forced Bleeding was still in effect, and suddenly understood.
"I see. Gelman,