On the top floor of the Empire State Building, terrifying winds swept through the entire floor.
"[Flying Delta]"
"Your dance was splendid, but unfortunately, you ran into me."
Vincent spoke calmly.
He stood on a mass of wind, holding himself firmly in midair. His clothes, patterned with mysterious designs, were neat and clean, his figure straight and strong.
Opposite him was Bonolenov, every hole in his body filled with invisible wind, leaving him unable even to move.
At Vincent's words, even someone as proud as Bonolenov could only look despairing and lower his proud head.
He had lost.
His ability had been completely countered.
Sound was the vibration of air. When the enemy controlled the airflow, even the most skilled [Bap] (warrior) could not play a melody.
[Battle Cantabile] had become nothing more than nonsense.
Vincent turned his lizard eyes toward Bonolenov, whose head hung dejectedly, and pondered:
The Gyudondond Tribe-never thought I'd encounter one here-
He happened to wake up just as I got back. Miss Cheadle and Mr. Dio were both gone, and they hadn't restrained him at all-
There must have been more than one enemy. Another enemy lured Miss Cheadle and the others away. Mr. Mizaistom should have arrived by now, so it should be three against one or three against two on the first floor- As for why it was not three against three, if there were three enemies on the first floor, adding the Gyudondond Tribe's Bap before him would bring the enemy count to four. Judging by this man's practiced combat skills, the others could not be much worse.
Under those circumstances, even with Mizaistom, the enemy would have had a four-to-three advantage. However poorly they fought, they should not have ended up in such a sorry state.
*Looks like they won't be