By the time Fubuki flew up to her sister and saw the figures before her, battered almost beyond recognition, most of her anger had faded.
"Sister, maybe we should let them go..." Fubuki said.
Judging by the state of the hippies, they would hardly be capable of causing trouble again for at least a year, even if they wanted to.
Tatsumaki gave a cold snort. The hippies suddenly felt weightless, then plummeted toward the ground.
"Sister!" Fubuki cried.
A fall from this height would smash them to pieces.
"I know, I know," Tatsumaki said irritably.
Desperate screams rang through the air. Just over a meter from the ground, the men, who had already shut their eyes and resigned themselves to death, abruptly froze.
They hung there for about a second before landing with a thud.
They were already badly hurt, and the landing jarred their wounds. Grimacing, they writhed across the ground like worms.
Tatsumaki had no interest in watching them. "What a buzzkill," she muttered coldly. Then she beckoned to Fubuki. "Come on, Fubuki. Let's go."
The sisters descended straight to the tent they had pitched earlier. Tatsumaki, annoyed that she had missed out on the roast beef, dove inside.
"Fubuki, did you bring anything good to eat? I'm starving." Tatsumaki rolled around in the tent, rubbing her stomach.
Fubuki opened the SUV's trunk and rummaged out a heap of supplies.
Before long, Tatsumaki caught the scent of beef. She unzipped the tent and poked her head out.
Then she rubbed her eyes.
"Fubuki, what are you doing?" Tatsumaki shouted.
Somehow, Fubuki had set up a little stove in front of the tent and was frying a steak in a pan.
"You—you—you brought steaks and didn't tell me?" Tatsumaki drifted over to Fubuki, reproach plain in her voice.
"You