Kamihara Hayato's eyes went wide, and instantly lighting up. "You saw his face?"
After years of digging, he had basically uncovered the identities of all Akatsuki members, except for two who still remained shrouded in mystery.
One was Zetsu.
There was pathetically little intel on it. If Ryosuke hadn't extracted information about Zetsu from Konan's memories, Hayato wouldn't have been able to find a trace.
No known past, no action records, and no way to determine its teacher from the ninjutsu it used.
The other was the masked man.
Some said he was Uchiha Madara. Others claimed they'd seen him use Wood Release, suggesting he might be a descendant of Senju Hashirama.
Some even went so far as to say he was the Fourth Hokage, Namikaze Minato, who faked his death during the Nine-Tails' attack, stole a Sharingan, and then went into hiding as the masked man.
Everyone had a theory.
But in truth, at this point, after all that fighting between Ryosuke and Obito, his identity didn't even matter anymore. Even if Obito were the goddamn King of Heaven himself, as long as he stood in Ryosuke's way, Ryosuke would still kill him all the same.
The only reason Ryosuke wanted to find out who he was under the mask was to better understand his opponent's abilities and hidden cards.
"I saw him take the mask off," Ryosuke said.
Seeing Hayato's eyes flash again, Ryosuke gestured for him to calm down.
"But under the mask, it's bandages. To be precise, his entire body is wrapped in them. And…"
"He's way too cautious."
When Ryosuke used Hermit Purple, if the target was strong or had sharp sensory ability, they could faintly sense the distant gaze watching them.
While the "polaroid" vision came into focus, while the "signal" flickered and stabilized, Obito had a second or two to react, rearranging his surroundings before it fully locked on.
Obito might not be the best in a fight, but when it came to hiding and escaping? He was a damn master.
Ryosuke had been watching this "live stream" for almost half a month now, and Obito hadn't slipped even once.
"So that means your telewriting ability's useless on him?" Hayato said, disappointed.
"Not exactly."
Ryosuke scratched his cheek. "You know how I am, I don't need sleep to function. So sometimes, in the middle of the night, I'll open the stream… activate telewriting… startle him awake… then close it again. I time it so that just as he's about to fall asleep again, I hit him with another round."
Hayato snapped his fingers. "Nice! You're trying to give him a mental breakdown?"
"Huh?"
Ryosuke blinked, then laughed and waved it off.
"What mental breakdown? I just find it funny."
———
Obito sat in a forest, one hand covering his forehead.
After a long silence, he finally lifted his head. The Zetsu he'd previously driven off slowly emerged from a nearby tree trunk.
"'He's… gone?"
"Gone," Obito said, his voice low, heavy with exhaustion.
He hadn't had a proper night's sleep in half a month.
Every time he was about to drift off, that same eerie gaze appeared somewhere in the room, like a ghost, silently watching him. The feeling made his skin crawl and his body tense up.
If not for Hashirama's cells strengthening him far beyond a normal human, the sheer sleep deprivation would've driven him insane by now.
Of course, there was one way to sleep peacefully, just ignore Ryosuke's spying with Hermit Purple.
Let the ghost watch. Let Ryosuke stare. What was the big deal? He was a grown man, getting looked at a couple times wasn't going to kill him, right?
Well… actually, yeah. It would.
If Obito dared to ignore it and really fell asleep, Ryosuke would simply follow the trail of Hermit Purple straight to him, and chop his head off.
"You okay?"
Zetsu crouched down, patted his back. "Want me to carry you?"
"I'm not that weak."
Obito reached under his mask and rubbed his face hard. The half-healed scars stung faintly under his fingers, the pain bringing him back to focus.
"Let's keep moving… we're almost there."
During the day, Ryosuke was busier, which meant less time watching Obito, so they had to make the most of that brief window of safety.
About two hours later, Obito lifted a concealed stone gate, revealing a narrow stairway leading underground.
He and Zetsu descended.
Torches lit up one by one along the walls as they moved, until they reached the bottom, where the space opened up wide, and the air filled with strange smells.
Medicine. Blood. Rust. Disinfectant.
And, of course, the unmistakable stench of snakes.
"State your purpose."
A cold voice came from behind them.
Obito turned to see Kabuto Yakushi, whose glasses glinted dully. The Sharingan under Obito's mask spun slowly.
Kabuto pushed his glasses up, the lenses shifting to a smoky grey tint, mirror lenses, to block Sharingan genjutsu.
"I'd advise you to be smart," he said flatly. "You're already surrounded."
Obito looked left, there was a white snake coiled on one side.
On the other side, a pair of striped shorts… containing what was left of Hidan's flesh. Hidan's head was balanced on top of it, stitched at the neck and hip joint with needles, as if to stop it from rolling off.
The single eye Hidan still had was glaring right at Obito.
"Y-you're..."
Hidan no longer had a mouth, but fortunately his two lab partners were the research-oriented type. They'd installed a sound device for him so he could still "speak."
The downside, it could only produce one syllable at a time.
After the Research Division shifted focus, from mass-producing Hidan clones to studying his bloodline limit, their demand for his remaining body parts dropped dramatically.
Or rather, they wanted him to keep what little he had left.
Otherwise, if they got hold of his entire body, the flesh walls of the Sky Battleship… would be something else entirely.
When Kazahana Dotō blew up the ship earlier, what they saw regrowing from the living flesh, eyes, mouths, arms, had already been nightmare fuel.
But if the flesh walls started sprouting little chickens and butts… that'd be a whole new level of absurd.
Just imagine, an enemy finally breaking through layer after layer of defenses, reaching the inner hull of the Sky Battleship, ready to punch through the flesh wall, and then sees it covered in… chickens and asses.
Fist raised.
Then lowered.
Not sure whether to scream, cry, or apologize.
Forget the enemy, even Ryosuke would die of embarrassment.
So yeah, the Cult of the Evil God and the Big White Snake had been relatively safe lately.
They hadn't had to relocate for quite a while, and were enjoying some rare, peaceful development time.
"Surrounded?"
Obito swept his gaze over the three before him.
Calling them "chickens and stray dogs" would've been a compliment.
Kabuto Yakushi, Orochimaru's student. His research level barely qualified him to polish Orochimaru's shoes.
White Snake Sage #1, a snake that had lost a millennium of cultivation.
And Hidan… let's just not.
If he weren't so tired, Obito might've laughed out loud. Instead, he shook his head and said, "Let's skip the nonsense. I'm here to propose an alliance. You need my power, and I need your knowledge."
Kabuto stepped forward, chakra scalpels forming in his hands.
"We have power too," he said.
"Pfft!"
Zetsu couldn't help himself and burst out laughing.
Obito didn't bother wasting more breath. "So, are you in or not?"
The snake, the man, and the head exchanged glances, thought for a few seconds, then nodded together.
"But I'll say this first," Kabuto said seriously. "This is our bottom line."
Obito and Zetsu both focused. "Go on."
Kabuto pushed his glasses again.
"You're the newcomers. You don't get naming rights. Our alliance stays as 'Evil God and Big White Snake.'"
Obito, "…"
Zetsu, "…"
As if they wanted that stupid name.
Swallowing the frustration stuck in his throat, Obito finally spat out one word, "Fine."
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