Giorno was unaware that Aerosmith was equipped with a carbon dioxide detection radar, and he did not deliberately speed up the photosynthesis of the willow trees to absorb nearby carbon dioxide.

But intentionally or unintentionally, the current aviation smith has managed to lock him again.

Giorno's figure completely disappeared into the flying catkins.

"What should I do?"

Naranga glanced at the detection radar, which didn't show anything, and then at the misty flying catkins in front of him: "I can't find him at all now!" ”

"Don't worry..."After figuring out the situation, Fogg calmed down.

He carefully observed the catkins that spread out like a thick fog in front of him, and said in a deep voice:

"See?"

"The speed at which the willow trees 'bump' the catkins has slowed down, and now there is no wind on the road, and the catkins that block the view will soon fall to the ground."

"And that egg roll head just now only exerted its ability on those two or three willow trees, and no matter how many catkins emerge, they can only cover a range of more than ten meters near those trees."

"If he wants to escape for his life, it is absolutely impossible for him to stay in this 'fog' that is only a dozen meters away forever."

"Got it..."

Naranga understood what Fugar meant:

"And the scope of this 'fog' is so large, although this guy seems to have hidden his tracks with the help of catkins... In fact, he also trapped himself in this 'fog'! ”

"If he doesn't want to sit still, he'll definitely do something right away."

The situation was as expected by Fogg and Naranga.

The vitality infused by the golden experience into the trees can only last for a while, and as soon as the "medicinal energy" has passed, the trend of catkins germinating quickly stops.

There were no more catkins falling from the trees, and no wind in the streets could blow the catkins on the ground.

Soon, the catkins that fell to the ground piled up a thick white blanket on the ground, and the "thick fog" in the air gradually thinned.

If this continues, Giorno's trail will reappear.

And at this time...

"Big wood, big wood, big wood!"

In the thick fog, there was a loud fist roar of the golden experience.

On the other side of the fog, two more street trees trembled violently under the golden shadow of the fist.

More catkins followed, and the 'fog', which was originally only a dozen meters in range, spread rapidly forward in such a situation.

"Do you want to create catkins to expand the range of the 'dense fog' while hiding your body and escaping?"

"It's useless..."

Fogg said disdainfully:

"If you think about it with your ass, you can know where the 'dense fog' is expanding, and your people are there!"

"Your position has been exposed by yourself!"

"Naranga..."

"That kid is already more than ten meters ahead of us now, and he can't wait any longer."

"You can chase it in with me, and I will protect you."

The catkins obscured the view, and if Fogg and Giorno were entangled on the other side, it would be easy for the enemy's aviation smith to detect the enemy's air by relying only on the carbon dioxide concentration to cause accidental damage.

So, Fogg simply called Naranga along.

Anyway, there is Ziyan in the other party who doesn't dare to approach at all, and his side has become a safe area that can perfectly protect the "ADC".

"Okay."

Naranga nodded, and then rushed forward with Fogg.

At the same time, the Sky Aviation Smith also roughly aimed at the area where the "dense fog" had expanded, that is, where Giorno had just appeared, and tentatively swept a shuttle of bullets.

The pike bullet missed.

But in the "thick fog" in that direction, there was a faint sound of Giorno rolling on the ground to dodge.

"Sure enough, there it is!"

After further locating Giorno's position, Fogg and Naranga pursued further.

Aerosmith nimbly reversed his flight attitude and fired in the general direction of Giorno's escape.

And Giorno didn't give up, he tried his best to avoid the bullets, and at the same time kept moving along the road, making more catkins one by one, creating a wider "thick fog".

That's it...

Giorno fled all the way forward, the willows "bloomed" all the way forward, the "dense fog" spread all the way forward, and the aerosmith strafed all the way forward.

Before they knew it, Naranga and Fogg had already chased Giorno for a distance of several tens of meters.

Their bodies were already covered with a thick layer of white wool, and their feet were covered with thick "snow" that could sink their calves in.

At first glance, it looks like two snowmen playing in the snow in the northeast.

They look embarrassed, but they have the advantage of being on their side.

Because, they have managed to catch up with Giorno.

After getting close enough, even the obstructive catkins in the air could no longer hide the vague and distinct figure.

And Giorno's desperate escape in the face of bullets and bullets also consumed a lot of his physical strength in a short period of time, and he seemed to have no strength to infuse the willow tree with vitality and make more catkins.

The tendency of the "dense fog" to expand has stopped.

Giorno, who had fled all the way, also broke out of the "thick fog", away from the willow trees that could help him quickly erase the traces of carbon dioxide.

"Target re-locked!"

Naranga said to Phogar beside him:

"With radar locking, it's not so easy for him to dodge bullets now!"

"Good... Egg roll heads! ”

"There's nowhere to run now, is there?"

Fogg stood firm and ordered Purple Smoke to stand five meters in front of him, acting as a shield to protect himself and Naranga.

In this way, they followed behind the purple smoke, little by little through the "dense fog" in front of them, and kept approaching Giorno.

And Giorno seems to have given up.

He didn't even care about the aviation smith who was adjusting his attack attitude in the sky, he just stood quietly outside the "dense fog", turning around to look at the three blurred figures in the "dense fog" that were constantly approaching him.

"Why didn't he run away..."

Seeing that Giorno was not moving, Naranga hesitated.

"Wait..."

His face changed:

"Fuge, let your purple smoke not go forward!"

"You... Do you smell that?! ”

"Taste?"

Fogg jerked to a halt and took a deep snort of air.

It is not only the unpleasant catkins that rush into the nose along the air, but also a pungent and unpleasant smell:

"This taste... Be... Is it gasoline? ”

"There's gas on the road ahead!"

Fu Ge immediately grabbed Naranga's hand, connected his stand-in Ziyan, and took a few big steps back.

It wasn't until the taste became faint that he was relieved:

"Damn it!"

"That egg roll head wasn't hiding his tracks with catkins at all, but trying to fight back-"

"He blocked our view with catkins, and then quietly opened the fuel tank of the roadside car in the 'thick fog' and tilted the gasoline inside on the road!"

"If we take a few more steps, I'm afraid we'll be stepping into the trap of kerosene."

Fuge, who was almost baked into black charcoal, couldn't help but feel a palpitation:

"It's okay... Fortunately, the smell of gasoline was strong enough, and we didn't catch up. ”

"Egg roll heads!"

Even through the barrier of layers of catkins, he couldn't help but explain to Giorno who was not far away from the "thick fog":

"You're thinking too simply—"

"The sight can be blocked, but the smell can't be stopped!"

"As long as you get close, anyone can sniff out the trap you have set!"

"That's right...."

In the catkins flying, Gioruno's calm voice sounded slowly:

"The smell of gasoline is so obvious that it is wishful thinking to expect others to step into the oil themselves."

"So..."

"Why should I set such a clumsy trap?"

His voice was so indifferent that Fogg couldn't help but think of his reaction to high math problems in college when he was 13 years old—how could such a simple problem not be done?

And now, judging from the tone, Giorno is the one who has the chance to win.

He gave the correct answer:

"Because... You read it wrong. ”

"My plan to fight back is indeed a fire attack, but the trap I set is not gasoline at all."

"Compared to the fuel that actually works, this little bit of gasoline is just a small match that helps light the fire."

"What?"

"Gasoline... Is it just a combustible to help light the fire? ”

"That's... Could it be that the real trap is..."

Not only did he think of something, but Fuge's face became very ugly.

He looked at the white blanket that reached his calves at his feet, and then at the thick white coat he and Naranga were wearing:

"It's catkins?!"