On a nighttime street, Slay rode his beloved horse down side roads at full gallop, heading east one moment and west the next. Before long, he confirmed one thing: he had already passed through this dead end three times.
Horse: "..."
Slay felt deeply wronged. One look at his Wild West cowboy attire was enough to tell anyone that he was a relic of a bygone era. He had been out of touch with city life for a very, very long time. He refused to take the blame for getting lost.
And that was indeed the truth. Ever since Slay had "died" 150 years ago and his body had been buried in a Church-run cemetery, he had vanished from society and become completely disconnected from the world.
Even his secret contact with the Church consisted of them sending people to find him. His entire social circle was just his horse.
Elsewhere, Johnny transformed into Ghost Rider. Having gone through it once before, he had more or less become familiar with the power he possessed after transforming.
But because he had no brain, his thinking ability had plummeted. He kept instinctively destroying the surrounding environment, and combined with his punk-styled skeletal frame, he looked as villainous as could be.
Put bluntly, Johnny was still in the beginner stage. His control over his own abilities was nowhere near adequate.
Sparks and lightning flew as he sped through the city on his motorcycle. Everything along both sides of the road was directly ignited and blown apart by Hellfire's extreme heat.
Thus, after the motorcycle engine roared past like a gale, a tire track still burning with lingering flames was left on the ground.
Johnny's flashy behavior infuriated the city's entire police force. Once they learned that he was also a fugitive who had