138-140

Chapter 128: The True Mission 

The mist atop the mountain finally cleared. 

Heavy, dark clouds loomed once more in the sky, churning chaotically, blacker than ink. A sharp crack of thunder echoed, and a light drizzle began to fall. 

Drip, drip, drip! 

The fine threads of rain wove together, leaving only a small patch of clear ground below. Amidst severed limbs and broken bodies, Hairi stood alone at the mountain’s peak, gazing upward. 

The Three-Tails Isozumi’s instinctive water manipulation came into play. 

The rain carefully avoided her body, not daring to dampen even the hem of her clothes. 

The sticky, gleeful rain washed the blood on the ground into muddy streams. 

She walked over to Yozuki Takeshi’s body. 

The rain parted automatically, creating a clear path. 

The Thunder Stone had been seized, and every Cloud ninja here was dead. Now, they just needed to wait for Aburame Ryoma and the others to arrive, set up explosive tags in the mine, and this Root mission would be complete. 

She picked up the black crystal clutched tightly in the corpse’s hand. The rain cleansed the blood from its surface. 

From the only intact part of his tattered clothes, she pulled out a mysterious scroll. 

Her Byakugan had already seen through him. 

Yozuki Takeshi had kept this scroll close to his body, clearly a highly valuable item. 

To protect her spoils, she hadn’t attacked the scroll, leaving it perfectly intact. 

She slowly unfurled it. 

The paper was pitch black, with white text written in sharp, lightning-like strokes. 

The scroll’s side rods were made of polished black crystal, unmistakably the same material as the crystal in Yozuki Takeshi’s hand. 

The only difference was the depth of color. The crystal in his hand was a deeper, bone-chilling black, while the scroll’s rods had a surface-level sheen, with clear crystal beneath. 

Skimming the text, a spark of excitement flashed in Hairi’s eyes. 

The scroll detailed the Yozuki clan’s discovery of the Thunder Stone, the purpose of the Ink Thunder Crystal, and the method to master Black Lightning. 

Just as she suspected. 

Black Lightning was a technique combining Lightning Release and Yin Release, capable of attacking both the body and mind, paralyzing an enemy’s soul and halting their thoughts. 

The scroll revealed that the Third Raikage was the first to discover that the Ink Thunder Crystal could absorb both Lightning and Yin to create Black Lightning. 

He had hoped to use it to create a unique Bloodline Limit for the Yozuki clan. 

He succeeded—and failed. 

He unraveled the principles of fusing Yin and Lightning with the Ink Thunder Crystal, recreating the powerful Black Lightning. But to his shock, this fusion technique didn’t qualify as a Bloodline Limit, nor could it be passed down through blood. 

From then on, the Cloud Village began aggressively hunting Bloodline Limits, seeking the reason Black Lightning couldn’t become one. 

Eventually, the Third Raikage found the answer. 

To form a Bloodline Limit, a technique must profoundly affect the ninja’s body, soul, or chakra. 

Yin Release affects the soul, Yang Release the body, and techniques like Ice or Storm Release alter chakra. 

A ninja’s soul, body, and chakra are one. If any undergoes a fundamental change, the chakra seed transforms. 

Once the new chakra seed matures and bears fruit, it can pass this unique power to the next generation through reproduction. 

Black Lightning couldn’t be inherited because it lacked the key to fundamentally alter the soul, body, or chakra. It remained a secret technique, not a Bloodline Limit. 

The Third Raikage recorded this, still hoping Cloud’s younger generation could find a way to evolve Black Lightning into a Bloodline Limit. 

Hairi didn’t care much about the powerful Black Lightning technique. She had plenty of offensive tools. 

Its ability to attack the mind and soul could broaden her arsenal, but that was it. 

What truly intrigued her was the knowledge of nature fusion and Bloodline Limits within the scroll. 

The Leaf Village had no shortage of powerful Bloodline Limits, but their understanding of fusing two chakra natures paled in comparison. 

The Bloodline Limit knowledge in the Black Lightning scroll was the culmination of decades of Cloud Village research—a critical piece missing from the Leaf’s archives. 

Even without a successful case, this record of failure was invaluable. 

Whoosh! 

The air, already humid from the battle, grew thicker as rain collided endlessly with the ground, stirring faint white mist. 

Standing alone in the rain, Hairi spread the scroll open, devouring its knowledge hungrily. 

Behind her, a silver python, over ten meters long and as thick as a barrel, slithered through the mud. Raindrops struck its smooth scales, producing crisp tapping sounds. 

Its basin-sized head, topped with cold golden slit pupils, reflected Hairi’s silhouette. 

Hiss! 

The silver python inched closer to her. 

Its deep purple forked tongue flicked the air, sensing her petite frame glowing red under its infrared perception, like a human-shaped torch radiating heat. 

Snap! 

Its muscles exploded with force as the python launched from the ground, jaws wide, aiming for Hairi. Its purple maw revealed jagged, razor-sharp teeth. A single bite could shatter bones and tear tendons. 

Her 360-degree Byakugan twitched slightly. 

Whoosh! 

An invisible wind blade shot from behind her. 

The falling rain split in two. The lower half continued downward, while the upper half hung eerily in the air, as if the rain itself had been sliced by wind threads. 

Rip! 

The python’s gaping maw froze, its golden slit pupils reflecting its final hunger. 

Its massive body crashed to the ground. 

Its still-firing nerves drove the body into a frenzied thrash. The snake’s skull split along the incision above its eyes, revealing a smooth, tubular brain. 

Thud! Thud! 

Blood and mud splattered as the half-headed snake writhed wildly. 

“Impressive no-hand-sign Wind Release. Since when did Root have someone like you?” 

A magnetic, raspy voice came from behind. 

Ignoring the dying python, Hairi lowered the Ink Thunder Crystal and Black Lightning scroll, turning toward the massive mine. 

A wooden plank jutted out above the mine’s entrance, shielding it from the rain, which dripped steadily along its edge. 

A tall man with a purple shimenawa rope tied around his clothes stood beneath it, unnoticed until now. 

Medium-length black hair, golden slit pupils like the python’s, purple eyeshadow extending to his nose, pale skin, turquoise magatama earrings, and an aura of evil, immense chakra. 

Hairi could guess his identity with her eyes closed. 

Orochimaru, the Leaf’s S-rank rogue ninja and one of the legendary Sannin! 

Why was he here? 

Recalling Yozuki Takeshi’s accusation about abducting Cloud ninjas, and knowing Orochimaru’s reasons for defecting, she pieced it together. 

Was this guy hiding in Thunder Drum Mountain, capturing Cloud ninjas for experiments? 

Chihaya Tou had once said Cloud ninjas’ robust physiques made them ideal for human experiments. As her former partner, Orochimaru likely knew this too. 

“Could you hand over what’s in your hands?” 

Licking his lips, Orochimaru’s gaze gleamed with greed for the Ink Thunder Crystal. 

Hairi smirked. 

So, he wasn’t just experimenting on Cloud ninjas—he was after the Thunder Stone and Ink Thunder Crystal, scheming to take it all while hiding here. 

She pulled a sealing scroll from her sleeve, forming the hand signs: Tiger, Rat, Rabbit, Boar, Rooster. 

Poof! 

The Ink Thunder Crystal and scroll vanished in a puff of smoke, sealed into the scroll’s central circle. Under Orochimaru’s icy stare, Hairi tucked the scroll into her cloak’s inner pocket. 

“No way.” 

Her youthful voice echoed through the air, rain threading around her, forming a dry circle on the ground. 

Orochimaru’s cold eyes flickered with interest. 

He hadn’t expected this Root shorty to be a kid! 

From his years of luring children, he could tell from her voice she was no older than ten. 

Masterful Wind Release, precise Water Release control, and chakra rivaling an elite Jonin. 

This was a prodigy of ninjutsu! 

Noticing the greedy emotional marker above Orochimaru’s head, his flicking tongue, and his creepy scanning gaze, Hairi frowned. 

This was their third encounter. 

The first was at the Mist’s Takenotsume ancestral grounds, where she awoke amidst a pile of clan corpses, catching a glimpse through her Byakugan of Orochimaru’s battlefield as he broke through. 

Back then, she was just a terrified Genin, unworthy of even facing him. 

The second was at Peikawa Port, fleeing to the Land of Fire. 

On the Hope ship to hell, she awakened her dual Bloodline Limits and absorbed the Three-Tails’ chakra, gaining some self-defense ability. 

But she still didn’t dare face him, fearing she’d end up a test subject in his dark labs. 

Now, this third time! 

She no longer feared this legendary Sannin! 

Buzz! 

The rain curtain above was suddenly sliced by an unseen force. 

Orochimaru, sensing her scent and heat with his tongue, narrowed his eyes and ducked. 

Slash! 

A deep gash appeared on the mine’s rock wall. 

Whoosh! 

The severed rain curtain fell again, pelting the rocky ground, splashing mud onto Orochimaru’s pants. 

He slowly raised his head. 

The greed in his golden slit pupils vanished, replaced by cold killing intent. 

Her owl mask tilted slightly, her abyss-like black eyes locking with his golden ones. The torrential rain grew heavier, yet it couldn’t douse their rising murderous intent. 

Step, step, step! 

Footsteps approached from the cliff’s edge. 

Their gazes remained locked, not wavering an inch. 

In a duel between masters, the first to flinch dies. No matter the chaos, no weakness could be shown. 

“Yato, he’s not an enemy.” 

A cold voice shattered the tense silence. 

Removing his mask, Aburame Ryoma, sporting his signature sunglasses, hurried between them with Iwakuma and another, breaking the standoff. 

“Long time no see, Ryoma.” 

Seeing his old Root comrade, Orochimaru licked his lips, suppressing his excitement but not missing a chance to prod. “This your subordinate? Can I have her?” 

“Better not,” Ryoma said flatly. “Yato is the Lord’s disciple. Take her, and Root will hunt you to the ends of the earth.” 

“Danzo’s disciple?” 

Surprise flickered in Orochimaru’s eyes. That tool-obsessed man took a disciple? Thinking of her precise, dangerous Wind Release, it made sense if Danzo, a Wind specialist, trained her. 

“Pity.” 

Orochimaru shook his head, dropping the idea of killing her. 

He didn’t fear Root’s pursuit, but he couldn’t afford to break ties with Danzo, who controlled the ninja world’s only non-renewable Sharingan resources. 

Seeing Orochimaru’s killing intent fade, Hairi calmed her dwindling chakra. 

After the battle, her chakra was nearly half-depleted. 

Her main body’s chakra for too many uses, so she couldn’t waste it. 

As a shadow clone, she knew Orochimaru could revive, and neither could kill the other or gain anything. 

The Black Lightning scroll and Ink Thunder Crystal were unexpected gains, alongside the mountain’s thunder stone and Danzo’s promised Sharingan. This mission’s haul was already substantial—no need to risk it over pride. 

She wasn’t really a kid, after all. 

Step, step! 

Iwakuma and the others joined her, staring in shock at the littered corpses and the robust body beside her. 

Having fought a Cloud Jonin at Mine No. 2, they knew how tough these ninjas were. 

One Jonin had stalled their team of four for ages, yet Hairi faced two, including an Elite Jonin, alone. 

They’d thought she’d be lucky to hold them off, but she’d wiped them out before backup arrived, unscathed, as if it were a casual task. 

“Where’s the Lord’s item?” Ryoma asked Orochimaru, getting to business after defusing the sibling-like spat. 

“Urgh!” 

Orochimaru gagged, spitting out a dripping sealing scroll. 

“Here. Want to check?” 

Unknown slime dripped down his arm, making Hairi and the others grimace. His gross storage method was stomach-churning. 

Ryoma pulled a scroll from his pocket and unsealed it. 

Poof! 

Smoke cleared, revealing a canister of crimson eyeballs in Ryoma’s hands. Under the dim light, Sharingan with purple nerves floated in saline. 

Orochimaru unsealed his wet scroll. 

In a meter-long cylindrical culture tank, a pale white arm soaked in green solution, bearing ten crimson double-tomoe Sharingan from palm to shoulder, curiously observing the world. 

Hairi’s eyes widened. 

This was Danzo’s right arm! 

Sending her and Ryoma wasn’t about Thunder Drum’s stone—delivering this arm, perfectly bearing Hashirama’s cells and Sharingan, was Danzo’s true mission! 

Chapter 129: The Deal 

"Ten single-tomoe, five double-tomoe, and five triple-tomoe." Ryoma Aburame rattled the glass jar in his hand, showing Orochimaru the floating Sharingan eyes inside. 

Orochimaru gave a quick glance from a distance, counting them roughly, and nodded in satisfaction. 

He patted the arm preserved in a blood-filled container. "This arm perfectly fuses Hashirama's cells with a Sharingan. Yin and Yang suppress each other, preventing any rejection. As long as Chihaya To connects it to Danzo's nerves, it’ll—" 

"No need to explain. I don’t get that stuff," Ryoma cut him off, raising a hand. He stepped aside, revealing Hairi standing behind him. "Yato’s the expert. If she checks it and says it’s good, the deal’s on." 

Orochimaru’s gaze shifted to Hairi, his golden pupils glinting. 

Oops. He might’ve just ticked off the inspector. 

Hairi, who’d been quietly watching the exchange, frowned as everyone’s eyes turned to her. No wonder Danzo insisted she take this mission. It wasn’t just about her combat skills—there was this layer to it too! 

Brushing past the others, she strode straight up to Orochimaru. 

The rainy sky seemed to blur, time itself slowing. 

Click! 

Her pale fingers popped open the lid of the glass container. A faint, sour whiff of nutrient fluid wafted from the culture dish as Orochimaru handed her the arm. "Yato, right? You’d better check it carefully." 

His golden pupils darkened, carrying a hint of menace. 

"Of course I’ll check it thoroughly," Hairi replied, her owl mask tilting forward slightly. Her hollow, dark eyeholes locked onto his snake-like gaze, her voice icy and eerie. "If the Hashirama cells and Sharingan in this arm aren’t balanced, my teacher could die horribly. Who knows what tricks you’ve pulled?" 

Ahem. 

Ryoma coughed lightly into his fist. 

For some reason, these two—whose backgrounds and experiences seemed so similar to him—were clashing hard. Barely a few words in, and it felt like they were about to throw hands. 

Hairi shot Orochimaru a cold glance before refocusing on the pale arm in the glass container. 

Her Byakugan zoomed in, revealing a vibrant, emerald-green chakra core pulsing with life. 

That was definitely the unique chakra core only Hashirama’s cells could form. 

"Give me two pairs of gloves," she said. 

Orochimaru’s expression shifted subtly. He pulled a pair of gloves from his pocket and handed them over. 

One terrifying trait of Hashirama’s cells was their ability to devour chakra and organic energy. You couldn’t touch them bare-handed, nor could you use Yang Release chakra as a barrier like a typical medical ninja would. 

Her immediate demand for gloves showed she knew Hashirama’s cells inside out. Asking for two pairs proved her expertise. 

The nutrient fluid storing the cells often contained acidic or alkaline solutions, which could easily corrode a single glove. To avoid accidents, double gloves were standard in experiments, with spares kept on hand. That’s why she didn’t even ask—she just demanded them from him. 

One small detail revealed everything. That single request showcased her professionalism and lab savvy. 

The killing intent in Orochimaru’s eyes faded, replaced by intrigued observation. He was always lenient with talented ninja. 

Hairi’s next moves confirmed his hunch. 

Slipping on the gloves, she lifted the arm from the nutrient fluid. She drew a kunai, used Water Release to rinse off residue, then ignited her fingertip to dry the water with a flame. 

Sterilization complete. 

She sliced into the arm’s cross-section, stimulating the neurons with a faint Lightning Release. She repaired dead tissue with medical ninjutsu, then activated the Hashirama cells with Yang Release, checking if they were overly aggressive and whether the Sharingan could suppress their corrosiveness. After confirming, she waited for the cells to heal naturally, verifying their division capacity was intact. 

Orochimaru and the others watched, captivated by Hairi’s crisp technique. Her seamless blend of Five Elements ninjutsu and medical skills had an almost artistic flair. 

Her kunai peeled back the fascia. The muscle fibers wriggled faintly, Hashirama’s chakra surging and boiling. Even with the Sharingan’s suppression, the cells were still highly active. 

"The Sharingan’s suppression isn’t perfect. The Hashirama cells still have some corrosiveness," Hairi noted, picking out a strand of muscle to examine closely. 

"I only had double-tomoe Sharingan here, so the effect’s a bit weaker," Orochimaru admitted. "You can transplant triple-tomoe later to reduce the corrosiveness further." 

"What if even triple-tomoe can’t suppress it?" she pressed. 

"Double-tomoe already keeps the cells from going wild. Triple-tomoe will definitely handle it completely. You can use a sealing jutsu to suppress cell activity normally and release it in battle. The effect won’t vary much." 

Orochimaru’s magnetic voice carried a touch of impatience, like a grad student facing a tough thesis advisor. 

This Sharingan deal meant a lot to him. 

Sharingan were a rare resource only Danzo could provide. To secure enough, he’d even traded Uchiha Shin’s arm. 

He did have a few triple-tomoe Sharingan, but no way was he giving those to Danzo for an arm. So, he’d skimped with five pairs of double-tomoe instead. 

If single-tomoe weren’t so weak at suppression, he’d have used those. 

Chihaya To never left the village, and the Root grunts wouldn’t notice. But he hadn’t expected Danzo to take this deal so seriously and send someone who actually knew their stuff. 

Now that she’d caught his shortcut, the deal’s difficulty just spiked. 

Splash! 

Hairi tossed the arm back into the culture dish, the solution splattering and leaving watermarks on the glass. 

Orochimaru’s eyes narrowed, his killing intent surging. 

Ignoring his palpable hostility, Hairi removed her gloves and turned to Ryoma, who’d been waiting quietly for the verdict. "There’s a slight flaw, but it’s mostly fine. We can proceed with the trade." 

Ryoma nodded calmly. "Good work." 

"No big deal," she replied. 

With a subtle nod to Ryoma, Hairi walked back to the Root side. 

Danzo and Orochimaru’s deal wasn’t her concern. She’d done her job, checked the arm, and thrown in a little jab at Orochimaru as a warning. 

Plus, she had to give Ryoma some face. 

During the inspection, she’d caught a glimpse of friendly, tense emotional markers above Ryoma’s head. That’s when it hit her—she’d probably overcomplicated things. 

Danzo likely hadn’t planned for her to inspect the arm at all. When she’d asked Ryoma about the real mission, he’d flat-out said it didn’t involve her, so she didn’t need to know the truth. 

Ryoma’s call to have her check the arm was probably a last-minute move. 

A chance to mess with Orochimaru and maybe settle a score for her. 

Since he’d gone out of his way to help her get even, she couldn’t just tank the deal and leave Ryoma to face the fallout empty-handed. 

It was an unspoken understanding between them. 

"Heh, sharp eye, kid," Orochimaru said, raising an eyebrow. His killing intent melted away like ice in sunlight. Since she hadn’t pushed back or caused trouble, he played nice. "Four nature transformations, solid medical ninjutsu—Danzo’s got himself a good disciple." 

She was Danzo’s student, strong too. They might work together more in the future, so no need to make enemies over a small misunderstanding. 

No deep grudges here. 

Fighting to the death over a clash was something only hotheaded rookies did. 

Hairi felt the same. 

"I read your work back when I was in Root," she said, eyeing Orochimaru’s heavily modified body, so different from a normal human’s. "Your insights on Yin and Yang Release were a big help to me." 

Say what you want about his character—Orochimaru was undeniably brilliant. 

In human experimentation, he was the ultimate authority. He also controlled key Ryuchi Cave sage resources. They’d likely cross paths again, and in the face of real benefits, a little verbal sparring was nothing. 

"That theory in your book about Yin stemming from Yang was fascinating. I later proved it with my own experiments." 

"Oh? You succeeded?" Orochimaru’s interest piqued, his golden pupils gleaming. 

"The experiment details and results are sensitive, so I can’t share much," Hairi said, turning into the cryptic type she hated. "I can only say the Yin-Yang conversion theory is real." 

The method for cultivating triple-tomoe Sharingan with Hashirama cells? No way she’d just hand that to Orochimaru. He’d need to trade sage resources for it. 

"Can’t share a bit more?" he prodded. 

"It involves key steps for evolving Sharingan to higher levels, so I can’t go into detail." Seeing the excited emotional markers above Orochimaru’s head, Hairi smirked, reeling him in slowly. 

Ahem. 

Seeing the tense vibe between them weirdly soften, Ryoma interrupted for the third time. 

He’d asked Hairi to inspect the arm to give Orochimaru a subtle warning. This wasn’t a one-off deal, and holding the upper hand could smooth future trades. But he hadn’t expected these two, who were at each other’s throats, to hit it off and nearly forget the trade entirely. 

"Come to my underground base sometime," Orochimaru said warmly, his eyes bright. 

"We’ll talk later," Hairi replied, brushing him off with a regretful look from him. 

"Let’s trade already!" Ryoma said, holding the jar of Sharingan as he stepped forward. 

Orochimaru glanced at Hairi again, clearly itching to dig into her Sharingan evolution research, but seeing her reluctance, he let it go. 

He sealed the arm, handing it over. 

"Wait!" Cho suddenly spoke up, halting the exchange. 

"Two unfamiliar chakra signatures are approaching the mountaintop. They’re fast!" Cho’s voice was grave, hands clasped as he sensed with closed eyes. 

Orochimaru and Ryoma exchanged a glance, each sealing their shady goods into scrolls. 

Buzz! 

Purple chakra flared, veins bulging around Hairi’s eyes. Her Byakugan pierced through the mountain. 

Below the cliff, two bright chakra cores sped toward the peak. The deep blue one shone like a water-blue sun, dominating her vision. 

That monstrous chakra volume far exceeded a normal ninja’s. She’d only seen this scale in Naruto and the Nine-Tails. 

Orochimaru and Ryoma deployed their own sensory jutsu. 

Bad bugs and infrared detection spread out. When they sensed that terrifying chakra, both frowned. 

Whoosh! 

Two figures zipped over the cliff, landing on the peak. 

Cho lowered his hands. No need for sensory jutsu now. 

Black cloaks with red clouds, dusty and worn. Rings, sandals, purple nail polish. 

A teen with red tear-troughs and a tall, blue-skinned shark-faced man stood at the peak, facing Hairi and the others from afar. 

"Itachi, it’s lively up here!" Kisame Hoshigaki grinned oddly, shark-like face scanning the corpses littering the ground and the masked, black-robed Hairi and company. 

Itachi Uchiha’s Sharingan swept over them, pausing briefly on the small figure with purple chakra before locking onto Orochimaru. "Everyone, we’ve got business with Orochimaru. Mind stepping aside?" 

At the sight of Itachi’s crimson Sharingan, Orochimaru instinctively looked down, avoiding eye contact. 

"Like a ghost that won’t quit!" he hissed through gritted teeth, all his earlier composure gone. 

"Looking for you?" Ryoma turned to Orochimaru, his expression unreadable. 

Orochimaru touched his stomach, feeling the hard orb inside, and dismissed the urge to use Reverse Summoning. 

This Kaguya Clan treasure had been in his hands for nearly half a year, yet he couldn’t crack its secrets. 

Knives couldn’t cut it, hammers couldn’t smash it. It couldn’t be sealed or summoned. It didn’t react to chakra or natural energy—just an indestructible rock. 

But the harder it was to crack, the more it itched at Orochimaru’s curiosity. No way he’d give it up easily. 

"Help me stall them, and I’ll hand it over after," he said to Ryoma. 

"That was traded for Sharingan." 

"If I die, you get nothing!" Orochimaru swallowed the scroll sealing the arm, dead set on pausing the deal. 

"Fine, no choice then," Ryoma sighed, his purple eyes meeting Itachi’s through his dark sunglasses. "I’ll handle Uchiha Itachi. You deal with the blue big guy." 

"Deal!" Orochimaru agreed instantly, no hesitation, terrified of Itachi’s Mangekyo genjutsu. 

"Ryoma, don’t look Itachi in the eyes," Hairi warned. 

"Got it." 

In a flash, Ryoma and Orochimaru formed a strategic alliance. Hairi looked ahead at Itachi and Kisame in their black-and-red cloaks, a sharp pain stabbing her head. 

Wasn’t this just supposed to be about taking down Thunder Drum Mountain? 

Chapter 130: One Fish, Three Bites 

Boom! 

Silver lightning streaked across the sky, the storm intensifying. 

A torrential curtain of rain filled the mountain peak’s crevices, streaming downward like winding waterways. 

Two against six. Eight glowing chakra signatures pulsed in sync from afar. 

Two Kage-level ninja faced off against one Kage, two elite Jonin, and three regular Jonin. 

By ninja world logic, three well-coordinated Jonin could take on an elite Jonin, and three elite Jonin could barely hold their own against a Kage. 

In theory, the peak’s forces were equivalent to four Kage-level fighters—a perfect balance of power. 

“Looks like they’re not planning to leave,” Kisame Hoshigaki said, tilting his face to feel the damp air. His eyes narrowed with delight, his mood visibly brightening. 

For a Water Release specialist, this was already a prime battlefield. 

“This is your turf. Orochimaru’s yours to handle. I’ll keep the sunglasses Root guy busy,” Itachi Uchiha said calmly, laying out the battle plan. 

“Got it,” Kisame replied. 

He was already wondering how he’d snag the Six Paths treasure from Orochimaru after killing him without Itachi noticing. Madara Uchiha’s secret mission to retrieve it was his top priority, and Itachi’s plan suited him perfectly. 

Both teams sized up their opponents, the atmosphere growing heavy and tense. 

Swish! 

Kisame’s deep blue fingers danced through hand signs, a massive surge of chakra roiling within him like crashing tides. 

“Here it comes!” Cho shouted, alerting his teammates. 

Arashi and Iwauma tensed instantly. A chainsaw-like gust of Wind Release coated Arashi’s blade, while thick earthen armor formed over Iwauma’s body. 

As the weakest trio on the field, they were already on high alert. 

Hairi’s Byakugan scanned Kisame’s chakra, a strange familiarity nagging at her. The deep blue torrent, vast as the ocean, reminded her of the Three-Tails, Isozume. 

A tailless Tailed Beast? 

Recalling the Three-Tails’ flesh sealed in Bloodhound and eyeing Kisame’s shark-like appearance and the massive Samehada blade on his back, Hairi sensed something off. 

Human experimentation wasn’t exclusive to Konoha or Orochimaru. The Cloud’s Black Lightning techniques had used bloodline ninja for research. 

If the Mist had their own experiments, Kisame’s Tailed Beast-level chakra likely tied back to the Three-Tails. 

Boom! 

Thunder roared, lightning flashing. Kisame finished his flurry of hand signs, cheeks puffing as he unleashed a massive river. 

Water Release: Great Waterfall Explosion! 

The raging torrent swept up the sky’s rain, a catastrophic wave like a breached dam surging across the peak. 

Kisame opened with a killing blow. 

“No way!” Arashi stammered, staring at the towering wave, over a hundred meters high, blotting out the sky. His Wind Release-coated blade, barely a meter long, felt pitiful in his grip. He stood frozen, overwhelmed. 

He’d never faced a fight like this. 

Normal ninja battles followed a pattern: probing with ninja tools, intense taijutsu exchanges, and a final clash of signature techniques to decide the victor. 

But this? 

A tsunami summoned on a mountaintop, an endless wall of water crashing down—how do you even counter that? 

Cho and Iwauma’s eyes filled with despair. 

At this moment, attribute matchups or ninjutsu counters meant nothing. In the face of such overwhelming volume, their meager kunai were useless. Konoha’s elite Jonin, standing near the ninja world’s pinnacle, were no different from mortals facing a natural disaster. 

This was the kind of ninja who could ignore numbers entirely. 

Only such a ninja could claim the title of Kage in any village. 

Brownish-yellow Earth Release chakra coated Hairi’s pale owl mask. She braced to tank the hit. 

There was nowhere to hide on the peak. The Water Release’s power couldn’t break her defenses, but Arashi and Cho, with no real protection, weren’t her concern right now. 

As a clone, her base strength was only elite Jonin-level. 

Her all-around prowess could overwhelm regular elite Jonin, but against a Kage-level opponent like this, taijutsu was her only shot. 

When faced with a disaster-level, wide-range ninjutsu like this, all she could do was duck and run. 

Luckily, Hairi wasn’t alone. 

The wave eclipsed the sky, its crushing force bearing down. Orochimaru stepped forward, his silhouette reassuring. 

He slammed his hands to the ground. 

Summoning Jutsu: Triple Rashomon! 

The earth quaked as three monstrous gates, each with snarling, fanged faces, rose like mountains, radiating safety. Their height matched the towering tsunami. 

Crash! 

The wave slammed into the steel gates, the deafening impact nearly bursting Cho’s eardrums. Lightning flashed, but the thunder was drowned out. 

Boom! 

The relentless tide battered the gates. The first collapsed quickly, followed by the second. 

After smashing through two gates, the wave’s momentum faltered, finally stopping at the third. 

Whoosh! 

Water gushed around the gates, forming two raging rivers. The group stood on the flooded surface, the once-dry peak now a swampy wasteland. 

“I’m starting to regret agreeing to this,” Ryoma said, adjusting his sunglasses as countless parasitic bugs crawled across his face. 

“Keep Uchiha Itachi busy, and I’ll let you have the Sharingan,” Orochimaru replied, upping the stakes. 

He knew Itachi’s strength but hadn’t expected the shark-faced guy to be this terrifying. Expecting Ryoma to risk his life for the original deal was unrealistic. If he didn’t sweeten the pot, Ryoma might bolt. 

Ryoma paused, then nodded slightly. 

As they spoke, Hairi glanced up at the towering Rashomon gates. Her Byakugan pierced through, spotting two figures riding the wave’s crest. 

“Here they come again!” Cho’s warning rang out. 

Thud, thud, thud! 

Two figures, one on each side, hands behind their backs, charged down the massive gates toward the group. 

“I’ll take left, you take right!” Orochimaru shouted, spotting the crimson Sharingan on the right. He splashed through the water toward Kisame on the left. 

Ryoma signaled to attack. 

Whoosh! 

Arashi, Cho, and Iwauma formed a triangular formation, charging through the water toward Itachi’s approaching figure. As long as they avoided the blue-skinned monster, facing Itachi seemed manageable. 

Even if they died, at least it wouldn’t be so humiliating. 

“Don’t go,” Ryoma said, stopping Hairi as she moved toward Itachi. 

“Leave this to us. Go left and keep an eye on Orochimaru. His character’s not trustworthy. Watch for Reverse Summoning Jutsu—don’t let him sell us out.” 

Hairi’s eyes flickered, catching his drift. 

Itachi was Konoha’s double agent, and as Root’s second-in-command, Ryoma likely knew it. 

He, Arashi, and Iwauma could handle a holding-back Itachi. Adding Hairi wouldn’t change the outcome. But if Orochimaru pulled a Reverse Summoning and bailed, they’d be left facing two Kage-level opponents, banking on Itachi’s betrayal to survive. 

No wonder he was Danzo’s right-hand man—always thinking ahead. 

“Got it,” Hairi said. 

Zzt! 

Her body flashed into a bolt of lightning, darting toward Orochimaru and Kisame’s battlefield. 

Watching her small figure vanish, Ryoma thrust his hands forward, unleashing a sky-filling swarm of bugs toward Arashi, Cho, and Iwauma, who were already clashing with Itachi, forming an encircling net. 

The black swarm blanketed the sky like a storm cloud. 

Itachi and the trio’s figures blurred, swallowed by the bugs. 

Ryoma pushed his slipping sunglasses back, usually relying on ranged harassment and bug attacks. This time, he broke habit, hands behind his back, charging into the swarm. 

Darkness Veil Jutsu! 

Cho’s roar echoed through the bug swarm. 

The sky turned pitch-black, an endless curtain. Itachi’s Sharingan scanned the darkness, finding no trace of light. 

Buzz! 

A sound—wind release or bug hums—whirred in his ears. 

His Sharingan morphed into the dazzling Mangekyo, a shuriken-like black mark spinning in his eyes. 

Genjutsu: Mirror Heaven and Earth Turn! 

The Darkness Veil shattered instantly, rebounding toward its caster. The sky didn’t brighten—the dense bug swarm blocked all light. 

A grating chainsaw screech came from the left, while a silent earthen fist snuck from the right. 

Whoosh! 

Itachi’s black cloak swirled, his Mangekyo scanning both sides. 

The shuriken spun faster, slowing Arashi and Iwauma’s movements. 

Reading their attacks perfectly, Itachi twisted, dodging Arashi’s sluggish blade while using Iwauma’s incoming fist as leverage. He spun, delivering a vicious roundhouse kick. 

Bang! 

The kick caught Arashi square in the chest. Blood spilled from his mouth as he flew backward. 

Iwauma’s eyes narrowed. He grabbed Itachi’s leg, still on his arm, and hardened his elbow into rock, smashing it toward Itachi’s shin. 

Crack! 

The leg snapped—but instead of a bloody break, a flock of flapping crows burst out. 

Whoosh! 

Itachi’s figure twisted, dissolving into countless red-eyed crows that scattered. 

“Release!” a voice called. 

A hand pressed against Iwauma’s back, familiar chakra flooding in, disrupting his manipulated chakra flow. 

The crows remained, but Itachi, unharmed, stood before him, staring coldly. 

Cho, arms raised, fumbled blindly nearby. Arashi, clutching his chest, staggered up, his trembling blade showing his injury’s severity. 

“Fall back!” Ryoma ordered, pulling his hand from Iwauma’s back. 

Terrified, Iwauma retreated behind Ryoma, helping Arashi up before moving to Cho, injecting chakra to disrupt his chakra flow. 

Cho snapped out of it. 

The trio stared at Itachi, standing still as if he’d never moved. They swallowed hard, avoiding his terrifying Sharingan. 

Too strong. 

He was on a completely different level from the Uchiha they’d killed at the clan grounds. Without Ryoma, they’d already be dead. 

“Too many monsters lately,” Cho muttered bitterly. 

He’d thought Hairi, immune to genjutsu and lethal in taijutsu, was a freak. Now here was Itachi, countering genjutsu and wiping them out in seconds. 

Sometimes, he wondered if specializing in genjutsu was a mistake. 

Boom! 

The sound of cascading water came from the left, the water level rising visibly. Colorful, venomous snakes slithered beneath the surface. 

“Pfft! That side’s even worse,” Arashi spat, blood flecking his lips, eyes red. 

Not daring to look at Itachi, he tracked his movements through the water’s reflection. 

“True,” Iwauma, usually silent, agreed. Compared to their dangerous fight, Hairi, Orochimaru, and the blue-skinned monster’s battle was even more intense. 

Even through the bug swarm, he could sense the chaos over there. 

This wasn’t a fight they were meant to handle. 

As the trio whispered, they didn’t notice Itachi and Ryoma’s bodies freeze, caught in a trance. 

In an illusory, boundless dark space, a crimson blood moon cast an eerie glow, illuminating Itachi and Ryoma floating midair. 

Ryoma glanced down at the pitch-black void, then fixed his gaze on the black-and-red-cloaked teen. 

“Where are we?” 

“My world,” Itachi said, stepping through the void. A winding path appeared, connecting their feet. “Time, space—everything bends to my will.” 

The sky, earth, oceans, and seasons shifted rapidly under the moon’s light, then reverted to empty darkness. 

“Impressive,” Ryoma said, marveling at the Mangekyo Sharingan’s godlike power. No wonder Danzo was obsessed with it. 

“Time here doesn’t sync with the outside. Feel free to observe,” Itachi offered. 

“No thanks, business first,” Ryoma replied, stepping along the void path toward Itachi. “Tell me everything about the Akatsuki.” 

“Fine,” Itachi said, a cold smile curling his lips. “But first, tell me what you know.” 

Ryoma nodded, pulling a stack of photos from his clothes. 

The tangible feel made this place seem less like a genjutsu and more like a real world. 

“Lord Danzo told me you’d want updates on your brother. These are recent photos. As promised, he’s doing well.”