It's time for our next match!
The final match of our Top 8...
Boothill vs Seele!
At one end of the arena, Boothill stood with his signature smirk, arms lazily resting at his sides as if the battle had already been won. Dressed in his dust-coated cowboy attire, the gunslinger exuded an air of confidence so thick it was nearly tangible. The holsters at his hips carried twin revolvers, sleek and deadly, while a rifle was strapped across his back. His hat tilted just slightly, casting a shadow over his cocky grin.
Across from him, Seele Vollerei stood with a quiet intensity. Clad in her sleek black combat suit, she embodied deadly elegance, her long twin tails swaying slightly as she shifted her weight. She rested one hand on the handle of her massive scythe, her other hand adjusting her gloves with precise movements. Unlike Boothill, her confidence was not flaunted—it simply existed, unwavering and undeniable.
The announcer's voice thundered across the battlefield.
"Warriors, prepare yourselves! Boothill, the gunslinger of legend, feared across the cosmos! Seele Vollerei, the phantom reaper, a whirlwind of destruction! No mercy, no surrender—only the will to win!"
The crowd erupted as the gong rang. The fight had begun.
Boothill acted first, quick as lightning. His revolvers were already in his hands before the sound of the gong had even faded, twin muzzles flashing as bullets screamed through the air. Seele vanished, her form dissolving into a blur of dark energy, reappearing behind Boothill with a silent step.
"Missed me," she taunted, her scythe already swinging in a deadly arc.
Boothill twisted just in time, ducking under the blade with unnatural speed. "Heh, darlin', if I was really tryin', you'd already be six feet under." He rolled forward, firing another volley over his shoulder.
Seele sidestepped, her movements fluid, but a bullet grazed her arm, tearing through her sleeve. She barely spared it a glance before lunging again, her scythe carving through the space Boothill had occupied just a second prior. He flipped backward, landing smoothly, and blew imaginary smoke from his revolver's barrel.
"Gotta admit, you ain't slow," he said with a smirk.
Seele's red eyes glowed faintly. "And you're just as arrogant as they say."
Boothill laughed, twirling his revolvers before reloading with a flick of his wrist. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm worse."
The battle exploded into a frenzy of movement. Seele became a storm of black and violet energy, her scythe a whirling nightmare of steel. Boothill, however, was no ordinary gunslinger—he moved like a shadow, weaving through the deadly arcs with uncanny precision, his pistols spitting lead with pinpoint accuracy.
Seele closed the gap, her scythe coming down in a devastating overhead slash. Boothill dodged to the side, the blade slicing through his coat but missing flesh. He retaliated with a close-range shot aimed straight for her chest. Seele twisted, the bullet barely missing as she countered with a spinning kick that sent Boothill skidding backward.
He landed smoothly, adjusting his hat with a chuckle. "Feisty, ain'tcha? You sure you ain't got a bit of outlaw in ya?"
Seele flicked her wrist, spinning her scythe into a reverse grip. "And you sure you aren't just running out of tricks?"
Boothill's grin widened. "Oh, I ain't even started, sweetheart."
He drew his rifle in one swift motion, cocking it with a single hand before firing an explosive round. Seele leapt into the air, narrowly avoiding the blast as a crater erupted where she had stood. Boothill capitalized on her airborne position, unloading another flurry of gunfire.
Seele's form flickered as she shifted into her spectral phase, bullets passing harmlessly through her for a brief moment before she reappeared above Boothill. Her scythe came down like a guillotine, forcing the gunslinger to roll at the last second. The moment he regained his footing, she was already on him, pressing the assault with relentless speed.
The clash of blade and bullet continued, neither warrior giving an inch. Boothill fought with the unpredictable swagger of a man who had cheated death one too many times, while Seele's movements were precise, a deadly dance honed through countless battles.
The crowd was in a frenzy. Each clash of steel and gunfire sent shockwaves through the arena, the combatants moving too fast for the average spectator to follow. Every dodge, every counter, every near-fatal blow had them on the edge of their seats.
Boothill wiped a trickle of blood from his cheek, smirking. "Well, darlin', I gotta say, you might be my favorite dance partner yet."
Seele exhaled, lowering her scythe slightly. "Then let's see if you can keep up."
The battle surged on, neither willing to yield, the fight stretching into a test of endurance, skill, and willpower. Boothill's bullets came faster, sharper, his gunplay reaching a level of lethality that left no room for error. Seele, in turn, became a blur of shadows, her attacks coming from unpredictable angles, each movement calculated to corner and eliminate her opponent.
But Boothill was a survivor.
And Seele was a hunter.
The outcome was still undecided, and the battle was far from over…
Seele feinted left before shifting into a full-bodied charge, her scythe whirling toward Boothill's chest. He parried with the barrel of his rifle, the force of the strike nearly sending it flying from his grasp. He fired point-blank—a desperate move—but Seele phased out, letting the bullets pass through before materializing behind him.
This time, she struck true. The blade sliced through Boothill's coat, cutting deep into his shoulder. He hissed, but instead of retreating, he twisted, grabbing the haft of the scythe with one hand and jamming a revolver into her ribs with the other.
"Checkmate, sweetheart."
The gun roared. Seele barely managed to phase again, but she wasn't fast enough to avoid all of it. The bullet tore through her side, sending her staggering back. Boothill didn't hesitate—he followed up with a ruthless kick to her midsection, sending her skidding across the arena floor.
Seele clenched her fists, but her body refused to move any further.
"Damn it!" Seele yelled out.
Boothill holstered his weapon, tipping his hat as he turned away. "Helluva fight. Shame you ain't faster."
The Winner is Boothill!
Meanwhile Backstage...
"Robin." The blonde-haired young man spoke out.
"Yes?" Robin immediately asked back.
"Begin your performance now."
"Are you sure?-"
"Yes. I am sure."
"Will I get what you promised me?" Ayato emerged from the darkness of the room.
"Yes...You will." The blonde-haired young man answered back.
"Make sure to give him...Ayaka...."
The blonde-haired young man smiled before turning around to face the arena again with a smile.
"Give me Firefly and Yuri."