Final Blast

In response to Windmill Cat's questioning, Pala and the other three gave no reply, treating it as nothing more than one of Pal Solomon's boring tricks.

Windmill Cat had always been neurotic by nature. The best choice was not to care about whatever he said or did.

"Let's move, gentlemen."

Pala rested both hands atop his white cane and spoke softly.

Ding.

Beside him, Karl Rega pinched the brim of his upturned cowboy hat and flicked an engraved gold coin into the air.

One side of the coin bore a heart, while the other bore a skull.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.

The spinning coin fell, landing lightly in Karl's white-gloved palm—the skull side facing up.

"Death."

Karl said it calmly.

With a sharp crack, he instantly drew the wheellock pistol at his waist and pulled the trigger at Windmill Cat.

Boom—

The wheel spun, followed by a gunshot.

Windmill Cat's head vanished at once.

As though it had been forcibly erased from the world.

The entire sequence had happened so quickly that even Gilan failed to react. To the others, Karl had only tossed a coin; none of them had seen the instant he fired.

When they looked at Windmill Cat again, his head was already gone.

Gurgle, gurgle...

White-hot lava bubbled from the severed stump of Windmill Cat's neck. Then his entire body blackened and solidified into obsidian.

Like an artistic sculpture.

"It was a fake. He got away."

Karl Rega said flatly.

He turned to his companions.

"I'm not good at pursuit."

"Adams, the two of us will go."

The man wearing a silver-white engraved helmet spoke.

With that, he took a step forward and vanished completely. The man with slicked-back hair and gold-rimmed glasses followed close behind, disappearing in an instant as well.

Almost the very next second