In the infrared night-vision display, the figure's heat signature matched that of a living human perfectly.
That alone ruled out the possibility of it being a dummy.
At that moment, Firefly—encased in his fireproof, insulated combat suit—failed to realize one crucial mistake he had already made.
Driven by the overwhelming desire to see Kaito Kid reduced to ashes, Firefly raised his flamethrower without hesitation. A cruel smile spread beneath his mask as he pulled the trigger.
A raging tongue of flame surged forward, swallowing the figure whole.
"AAAAAAHHHH—!"
A piercing, agonized scream echoed through the burning exhibition hall.
It sounded exactly like Kaito Kid.
Firefly's eyes lit up in ecstasy.
The sound was intoxicating—like a masterpiece performed exclusively for him.
"Yes… scream," he whispered. "Scream louder."
He increased the output of the flamethrower.
The flames roared higher.
The temperature inside the hall skyrocketed.
"AAAAHH—AH—OH—!"
The burning figure collapsed to the floor, rolling violently, shrieking as fire clung to its body.
Firefly laughed wildly.
For a brief, horrifying moment, he felt utterly complete—his mind blank, his senses overwhelmed by pleasure and destruction.
Then—
Something felt wrong.
Firefly's laughter cut off abruptly.
His eyes snapped to the thermal readout.
The body temperature of the burning "Kaito Kid" was climbing rapidly—far too rapidly.
Fifty degrees Celsius.
Then more.
That was impossible.
Even without considering the flames, a human body exposed to that temperature should have already ceased all movement.
But the figure was still rolling.
Still screaming.
Still alive.
"No…" Firefly muttered.
He shut off the flamethrower instantly and swept his vision across the rest of the hall.
And that's when everything collapsed.
There were Kaito Kids everywhere.
Some burned figures glowed at forty or fifty degrees.
Others—farther from the flames—showed normal body temperatures.
The exhibition hall was filled with them.
In an instant, Firefly's mind erupted in static.
Then he remembered.
Dummies.
Most people associated dummies with soft silicone, foam, or rubber—materials that warped and collapsed when burned.
But that wasn't the only option.
With the right composite materials, a dummy could withstand extreme heat without deforming. When exposed to fire, its surface temperature could rise rapidly—easily mimicking human thermal readings.
Firefly had assumed heat meant life.
And that assumption had cost him.
He'd been completely fooled.
Rage surged up his spine like boiling fuel.
Frustration. Fury. Humiliation.
It felt like being dragged away at the very moment of triumph.
His hands trembled as he clenched his fists.
"I never left the entrance," he growled. "No one passed me. That means you're still in here."
Annoyed beyond reason, Firefly reached up and tapped the control near his ear.
The infrared mode shut off.
The goggles reverted to standard lenses.
There was no longer any need for night vision—the exhibition hall was already an inferno, flames illuminating every corner.
And the moment the thermal overlay vanished—
He saw him.
Kaito Kid stood calmly in the corner by the shattered window, hands cupped around his mouth, wailing theatrically at the top of his lungs.
The instant Firefly's gaze locked onto him, Kaito Kid stopped screaming.
"Oh," he said lightly. "Looks like I've been discovered."
Firefly felt something snap inside his chest.
Veins bulged beneath his mask as rage flooded every nerve.
"Kaito Kid," he snarled, "you're clever—but tricks like these only delay the inevitable. You will die here."
He raised the flamethrower once more, eyes burning with murderous intent.
Then—
"Before you do that," Kaito Kid said calmly, adjusting the brim of his white top hat, "you might want to consider something else you overlooked."
Firefly hesitated.
"It's raining outside," Kaito Kid continued. "Heavy rain. Early March nights in Gotham are already freezing—and with a storm like this? It's bone-chilling."
Firefly frowned.
"You've turned this place into a furnace," Kaito Kid said, gesturing to the flames. "The temperature difference between inside and outside is enormous."
He paused.
"Here's a hint—the museum windows aren't reinforced. They're just ordinary glass."
Tap.
Kaito Kid lightly struck the window behind him.
BANG—!
The entire pane shattered instantly.
Glass exploded outward as icy wind and rain burst into the exhibition hall, crashing violently against the rising heat.
Kaito Kid's cape snapped and fluttered wildly in the sudden gale.
Cape?
Firefly's eyes widened.
That cape should have been burned to nothing long ago.
Yet there it was—pristine.
A second one.
"How many capes do you even have…?" Firefly muttered.
For a split second, a ridiculous thought crossed his mind.
Is the cape the real body?
"Don't even think about escaping!" Firefly roared, stepping forward.
He wasn't worried about gliders.
The wings on his back weren't decorative either.
But before he could move—
"I'd suggest dealing with the two behind you first," Kaito Kid said casually.
Firefly froze.
Two?
He spun around—
BANG!
The main entrance doors exploded inward.
Two figures charged into the hall—one clad in dark armor, the other moving like a streak of shadow and light.
Robin.
Batgirl.
Both bore signs of battle—torn fabric, scorched armor, bloodstains that clearly didn't belong to them.
"Firefly," Batgirl said coldly, eyes sharp as blades.
Robin's gaze flicked to the window.
Kaito Kid stood balanced on the sill.
"You're late," Kaito Kid remarked.
"Do you have any idea how many assassins were after you?" Robin shot back. "At least forty."
Batgirl added flatly, "They won't be a problem anymore."
"Is that so?" Kaito Kid smiled. "Much appreciated."
He tipped his hat.
"My work here is finished. Firefly is yours."
And with that—
Kaito Kid leaned back and vanished into the storm, falling out of the shattered window.
Rain swallowed his figure instantly.
Only fire remained.
And the hunt continued.
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