Conrad clenched his five fingers, and Tony's bones fell from his grasp. He immediately looked up and shot skyward with Geppo.
His long hair rippled like waves, swirling around him. Bathed in a deep crimson glow, it echoed the increasingly dazzling light in the heavens.
He chased after Laffitte, who was carrying the king. This time, Conrad's Haki showed no sign of weakening, even after he'd stamped through the air more than ten times.
"Fly! Fly higher! He's catching up!" The king still had a cigar clenched in his mouth like a painkiller, drool streaming down and soaking the glowing tip.
Laffitte looked impatient. He'd enjoyed a comfortable life in the Ilusia Kingdom, throwing his weight around.
As long as he stayed under the king, he could keep enjoying himself, but he was already getting a little bored.
He raised his cane, spread his wings with his back to the moon, and sent ripples of hypnosis toward Conrad.
"I'm this country's sheriff. You're a murderer who's broken the law. When you see a sheriff, you should be afraid and run for your life..."
The hypnotic sound waves reached Conrad as he surged upward, pouring into his ears in an attempt to sway his thoughts and judgment.
Conrad even began to hallucinate, as if he really were a criminal and Laffitte, his white wings spread against the sky, were waiting with handcuffs for him to turn himself in.
"Yah!" He stamped hard with Geppo, each burst carrying him farther than the last.
Because once his bloodlust swelled, the identity of his target no longer mattered. Only blood, death, and pain could fill this world.
His only goal now was to keep fighting until he'd satisfied his hunger.
Whoosh—
Laffitte's hand trembled slightly as he flew higher.
He'd had plenty of experiences where his hypnosis failed, but this was the first time it had succeeded and still done absolutely nothing.
He'd eaten a special Devil Fruit and gained the rare ability to fly, and he kept climbing higher.
But when Conrad ran out of strength, he would have to fall. Like a demon from hell chasing an angel toward heaven, he roared in frustration.
"Roar!"
The harsh roar rang through the night sky. The residents jolted awake in their homes and pulled the blankets over their heads, afraid to go near their locked doors and windows.
No one ventured out at night in this Mafia city. But the Mafia they feared were now fleeing in sheer terror.
As he plummeted through the air, Conrad stared at the shark-toothed claws. A scarlet chain stretched between them—it must have been Baby-5's waist. He felt an urge to crush it.
Suddenly, a scene came to mind, and he laughed with excitement. His bloodshot eyes fixed on his claws as he shouted, "Baby-5, turn into a rocket! A missile! We're going after them!"
Baby-5 had never transformed into one before; she'd only ever become weapons that fired bullets. But she didn't hesitate.
She recalled the rocket she'd just seen for the first time, the FT-G fired by Gotti.
She turned back into human form first, wanting to hug Conrad, but she only thought about it for a moment. Conrad's request had to come first.
So, unlike her usual melee weapons, her body grew round and straight, forming a black rocket with tail fins.
"Yah! Launch!"
Conrad raised the rocket over his head with both arms, aimed at Laffitte, and hurled it with all his might.
Then he pushed his strength to the limit and stamped hard with Geppo, landing firmly on the rocket before it shot away.
In the howling wind, its exhaust flames blazed.
Conrad planted his feet and slowly straightened on the missile, spreading his arms wide to embrace the deep night as he laughed with unbridled joy.
Laffitte glanced back. His tiny pupils seemed to widen a little; the missile was faster than his wings.
He changed direction, but Conrad adjusted his course too, pursuing him relentlessly.
Laffitte had great confidence in his own strength and, with his ability to fly, had watched events unfold from on high the entire time.
But now, a sudden sense of dread seized him, as if death were upon him.
Laffitte stopped flapping his wings and watched the blood-red figure riding the missile rapidly close the distance. In midair, he began spinning his wings until he was rotating like a top.
An object shot out like an arrow released from a bow. It was the only human-shaped weapon in his hands—the king, Lucas.
The wind pressure slapped the king's face, making his skin flap against his cheekbones. The cigar shot straight down his throat, turning his face purple-red as he choked. But none of that mattered. What mattered was—
He met Conrad's gaze and collided with the rocket.
Boom!
A dazzling fireball blossomed in the sky, like fireworks celebrating the night's wild revelry.
Laffitte flew away without looking back, as if he'd made up his mind about something.
The blood-red figure, his hair ablaze, plunged straight down from the sky, headfirst, feet in the air, yet still gazing at the endless stars.
Baby-5 had released her hold on Conrad's feet just before the collision and explosion, so he wasn't at the center of the blast.
The pressure hurled him away, and the shock wave sent him plummeting.
He fell straight down and down. He was nearly two hundred meters above the ground—more than sixty stories, by building standards.
Would Conrad die from a fall at such speed?
No.
Because he spotted someone: a person standing on a rooftop, watching from hiding. She had a high ponytail and a youthful face.
But her distinctive features and prominent nose—and most of all, that strange, toothy grin—told Conrad who she was.
"Nico Robin!" Conrad cried out. His roar was so deafening that it clearly startled her. She turned and ran.
"Catch me!"
Robin, behind the rooftop railing, looked conflicted. But perhaps out of instinctive kindness, she still crossed her arms into a flower-like pose.
As he descended over the residential buildings, arms bloomed open all around him like flowers, giving way with soft elasticity.
A series of feet and pale calves extended from the walls like steps. When Conrad's falling body smashed through the web of arms, they helped him tumble and bleed off the force.
Conrad landed safely. The arms and feet vanished, and Robin had fled without a trace.
His blood-red hair was still burning. He gave it a casual tug, and the uneven, singed ends barely reached below his waist.
A liquid substance, like rain, fell beside him, then swirled and gathered into Baby-5's human form. Her face was deathly pale; she looked like she could barely stand.
She could transform into a gun and fire bullets, but doing so drained her energy. The rocket's exhaust had accelerated them just now, and she'd gone all out with her eyes closed, exhausting every last bit of strength.
Conrad supported her by the shoulders, his blood-red eyes gleaming. "Can you still walk? I'll carry you."
Even if Robin hadn't caught him, he still had enough strength to use Geppo and break his fall. He'd absorbed plenty of life force earlier, even though his chest was still burning like a furnace.
"Okay." Baby-5 smiled and nodded.
She started to climb onto Conrad's crouching back and wrap her arms around his neck.
But Conrad gripped Baby-5's arm without pulling her onto his back.
It was because that brief, soft touch had made him tremble all over, and his powerful addiction surged like a fountain.
As he touched Baby-5's tender skin beneath the crimson starlight, the desire filling his mind and heart grew ever stronger.
He could already imagine himself tearing Baby-5 apart, then wailing in heartbroken agony. That was the nourishment the Great White Shark of the Heavenly Martial Killing Path craved most.
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