"Brat… do you even realize who you're talking to?"
Kakuzu's face darkened, irritation seeping into his voice. Not even Senju Hashirama himself had spoken down to him like that. Hashirama—the God of Shinobi—had been forced to use his famed Wood Release because of him.
Yes, in the end Kakuzu had failed. But that didn't erase the fact that he had done what countless others had dreamed of, but never dared attempt. He had stood against Hashirama.
And now this kid, this Senju brat, was mocking him with words like, "What did you do, throw a kunai from eight hundred li away?"
What kind of nonsense was that?
"…Fine."
Seeing that Kakuzu had no interest in digging up that past, Senju Haruto let it go. Kakuzu clearly wasn't in the mood. And truthfully, Kakuzu himself wasn't planning to waste any more time here.
After all, no matter what, Haruto was still a Senju—an inheritor of Wood Release. Even if his power wasn't quite at the level of Hashirama's, it wouldn't be far off. Against someone like this, probing attacks and feints would mean nothing.
Just as it had been back then, when Kakuzu faced Hashirama, that same suffocating sense of helplessness pressed down on him.
Ironically, his most glorious battle—his attempt to assassinate the God of Shinobi—had ended in failure, with not even his name remembered in history. In the entire shinobi world, those who even knew of it were but a handful.
Such was time. It gave everything, and in the end, it took everything away.
Kakuzu had long since stopped caring. Even the Takigakure forehead protector he still carried—it wasn't sentiment. It was simply a reminder of where he had come from. But what did that matter?
Just like the countless small villages scattered across the shinobi world, Takigakure too would eventually vanish, forgotten in the sands of time. Just like him.
Only money was eternal.
As long as people existed, there would be transactions. And where there were transactions, there would be money.
That truth—that was the one thing that had never changed.
And in this moment, Kakuzu felt himself remember, if only faintly, what it meant to be a shinobi.
"Earth Grudge Fear!"
His roar shattered the silence. Chakra surged wildly, flooding into the masks stitched into his body. At once, the masks of Wind, Fire, and Lightning writhed, then crawled and fused into his right arm.
This—this was Kakuzu's ultimate technique. His strongest weapon.
A concentrated Chakra Cannon that would erase everything, leaving nothing but ashes.
Perhaps once, he had failed to kill Senju Hashirama. But now…
Now, he had a chance to kill another wielder of Wood Release.
"Final Shot!"
The three elemental chakras—Wind, Fire, and Lightning—compressed into one. And then, in an instant, they unleashed, tearing out from his arm with catastrophic force.
BOOM!
The sound ripped across the battlefield like thunder splitting the sky.
"Such dense chakra…"
Kakashi's Sharingan widened, straining against the sight before him. Kakuzu's attack was beyond anything he had imagined. For the first time, he understood how Kakuzu had once walked away alive after fighting the First Hokage.
On the other side, Gato and his men were stunned into silence—then erupting into cheers.
For the first time in his life, Gato felt proud of spending money to hire a shinobi. This was power. Power that could obliterate everything.
That enormous chakra cannon… there was no way anyone could survive.
"The Konoha shinobi, that bridge builder, and those damned swordsmen… all of them are finished!"
Gato clenched his fist and punched the air, giddy with joy.
But just as his men and he were certain Senju Haruto had overplayed his hand—certain that death was inevitable—
The world lit up.
A blazing pillar of light shot into the heavens, followed by an earth-shaking roar. The ground trembled as a mushroom cloud surged upward, boiling and rolling endlessly across the sky.
Kakuzu had poured every last drop of chakra into that attack. He hadn't held back in the slightest.
"…Dead?"
Gato swallowed hard, his throat dry. He was amazed by Kakuzu's terrifying power, but his heart still trembled with unease. That blast was overwhelming, yes—but until he saw Haruto's corpse with his own eyes, his fear wouldn't leave him.
"No one survives my Final Shot."
Kakuzu's voice was cold and certain. This wasn't arrogance—it was fact.
Wind, Fire, Lightning—when combined, their destructive potential didn't merely add together. It multiplied. Ten, times ten, times ten.
Its momentary destructive force surpassed even Haruto's multiplication of exploding tags. And Haruto, unlike Hidan, wasn't immortal.
There was no need to erase every last scrap of flesh. He just needed to be killed once.
But then…
The smoke began to clear.
And within it, looming like a nightmare, was a colossal white skeletal figure, steam still rising from its bones.
"…What is that?"
Kakuzu's eyes went wide, disbelief twisting his face.
"Still standing, Kakuzu."
Senju Haruto's voice echoed from within the giant warrior. His body was untouched. Not a scratch on his clothes.
Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura, even Zabuza—each of them was struck dumb with shock.
"This… this is…"
Sasuke and Naruto both sucked in sharp breaths. They had thought Haruto's explosive tag technique was already beyond comprehension. And yet—here he was again, shattering their understanding of what was possible.
"What kind of jutsu is this…?"
Sakura's voice trembled. When Kakuzu unleashed his chakra cannon, she had believed Haruto careless, giving his enemy a fatal opening. She had even collapsed to the ground in terror.
But that devastating cannon hadn't even touched him.
"If you know the name of Senju Hashirama, then you've surely heard another."
Haruto's eyes gleamed crimson. He opened the Mangekyō Sharingan, and the giant skeletal warrior wrapped around him was revealed in full.
"This jutsu… is Susanoo."
Even Sasuke's Kirin—a technique that called lightning from the heavens—couldn't break through the skeletal state of Susanoo. Kakuzu's chakra cannon didn't even come close.
"…Uchiha Madara?!"
At the name, both Sasuke and Kakuzu froze.
Especially Sasuke—he stumbled forward, eyes wide, staring directly at Haruto.
And then he saw them.
Haruto's eyes. The Mangekyō Sharingan.
"Haruto… what are you?"
The question slipped from Sasuke's lips, his voice hollow.
"No… no… this can't be…"
Kakuzu shook his head again and again, unwilling to accept the sight before him.
"You're… you're Senju. I know what I saw—your clones, your Wood Release—there's no mistake. So how…"
"Am I under a genjutsu?"
Kakuzu's throat bobbed. He knew Uchiha Madara's name—how could he not? They had lived in the same era. But Haruto… Haruto hadn't revealed those eyes until now.
Could it be… that from the very beginning… he had been trapped in illusion?
And just as the thought formed, Haruto's voice cut through his mind like a blade.
"When… did you start believing you weren't already in a genjutsu?"