The man's hand trembled violently as he rewrote—this time, his real name.
Once finished, he pressed his bloody thumb next to that name, hesitating, but with no choice.
Instantly, the air around him changed. Heavy. Burning.
The man stared at his own chest... and his eyes widened.
Slowly, from beneath his skin, a symbol emerged—a red spiral typical of the Uzumaki Clan, pulsing softly as if alive.
The cursed tattoo was embedded right on the man's chest, a testament and a shackle that he would never be able to escape.
The event unfolded in a piercing silence.
Only the sound of the man's heavy breathing could be heard, along with the soft rustle of the scroll, like the whispers of ancient beings swallowing souls one by one.
The number of ninjas who would participate in the Cursed Contract reached into the thousands.
The sound of footsteps and hushed whispers filled the shores of Spiral Island, blending with the relentless crashing of waves against the rocks—as if the ocean itself anxiously witnessed this procession.
The sun hung low on the horizon, bathing the sea surrounding the island in golden light.
Yet that light felt cold, as if even the sun was reluctant to bless the pact that would bind the souls of thousands.
In the midst of the crowd, Reiji stood tall.
Reiji's clothes fluttered gently in the salty wind, but his face remained unmoved by anything—cold and calm, like a rock that refused to decay under the waves.
"Uncle Keito. Please help me," Reiji said flatly, yet his voice sliced through the noise like a sword drawn from its sheath.
"Of course. What should I do?" Keito replied, quickly stepping closer to Reiji.
Several members of the Uzumaki Clan immediately sprang into action without a word.
They needed no explanation—instinct and their bloodline heritage already knew what to do.
Reiji pointed to the large scroll partially in his hands.
A ninja had just completed his contract, but thousands were still waiting.
Reiji knew that one by one would not be enough.
So Reiji asked for help: the scroll needed to be unfurled as long as possible, so that dozens—even hundreds—of ninjas could sign the Cursed Contract simultaneously.
As the end of the fabric was pulled, a heavy sound echoed—like the soft beating of a war drum.
The scroll was wide, at least two meters, and its length… no one knew for sure.
Clan members moved quickly.
Even as four adults slowly pulled it from both sides, its length seemed endless.
The scroll was made from the skin of a mutated sea lizard, preserved with a sealing jutsu.
The surface of the scroll appeared alive, pulsing faintly like a creature that was sleeping but could awaken at any moment.
Along the fabric, dark red sealing symbols flowed like blood that never ceased to flow.
Reiji himself had created it—the result of relentless work over months.
The sealing jutsu within it was a new creation, formulas that even the elders of the Uzumaki Clan did not recognize.
"Unfurl it from the edge of the yard to the eastern courtyard," Reiji commanded without hesitation.
"Make sure there are no folds."
"This is not an ordinary scroll."
"This is the medium of a pact that will bind the ninjas from three great villages."
"With this contract, they won't dare to act out... and after that, they can leave here."
Ninjas began to arrive.
They lined up, silent, only the sound of shuffling feet and heavy breaths could be heard.
Each carried a sense of fear and confusion.
They knew that signing this scroll meant submission.
But it was better than death or becoming a slave in a foreign land.
Reiji stood not far away, watching.
Reiji's eyes swept over the faces of the ninjas, one by one, as they inscribed their names with their own blood, then pricked their fingers and pressed their blood seals onto the contract circle.
Each bloody seal that touched the scroll made the seal glow and resonate softly, like a song from another world.
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