chapter 168 part 1
Chapter 168: A Hero Appears! The New Ren Arakawa! (Last day for double Monthly Tickets! Please vote for Monthly Tickets!)
At Konoha's gate, Uchiha Ren woke up early.
He handed a rice ball to Izumo Kamizuki, who was on guard.
The two sat at a table nearby. Izumo Kamizuki poured Uchiha Ren some tea, and they began to eat breakfast.
After only a few bites of his rice ball, Izumo Kamizuki sighed, "It's only been a few days, but I still clearly remember your Chunin exam. You gave me quite a fright that day, being able to use the Great Fireball Jutsu of that scale at your age..."
Izumo Kamizuki's eyes filled with reminiscence, "I thought then that your future prospects were limitless. I never expected that in less than a hundred days, you would already be an excellent ninja capable of holding your own!"
He took another bite of his rice ball, "Kakashi was actually saved by you twice! If he hadn't told me himself, I wouldn't believe it!"
Uchiha Ren shrugged, "Just eat your food."
As soon as the two finished eating, a figure rushed over from outside Konoha Village!
Seeing this green figure, Izumo Kamizuki acted as if nothing had happened, continuing to sip his tea.
The newcomer was none other than the jōnin team leader on the mission to find Tsunade, the one who almost kicked his way to the ending – Might Guy!
Might Guy would go out of Konoha for a morning run every few days; Izumo Kamizuki was long used to it.
Might Guy, drenched in sweat, walked over, sniffing the air, "What's this?! It smells so good!"
Uchiha Ren pointed to a bag beside him, "Special rice balls from the Uchiha Clan. They have seaweed, diced carrots, and blowfish meat. They're usually very hard to buy. I waited there from midnight until dawn to buy the whole batch."
"Oh my!" Guy walked over, casually opened the bag, and sniffed, "So fragrant!"
"If you want to eat, eat," Uchiha Ren shrugged.
Guy rolled up his sleeves and grabbed two rice balls!
His eating style left Izumo Kamizuki dumbfounded. Before he could recover, Guy was already devouring a third rice ball!
Taijutsu ninjas, especially those like Guy, consume an enormous amount of energy.
They need to eat frantically every day, which is not surprising at all.
In the anime world, those who eat a lot often possess extraordinary talent.
Luffy and Little Goku are both such characters.
Conversely, weaklings like Naruto, who eat a barrel of instant noodles for a meal, purely rely on the Nine-Tails and Asura's Chakra.
In a short while, Guy wiped the rice grains from his mouth, rubbing his stomach with satisfaction.
Then, as he came to his senses and looked at the empty bag, he instantly froze!
"Ah! How did I eat all of these?!"
He ran in front of Uchiha Ren and immediately bowed deeply, apologizing, "My sincerest apologies! They smelled too good! I couldn't help myself!"
Uchiha Ren shrugged helplessly, "What does it matter if you ate them? Anyway, I haven't been doing anything these past few days, and I don't know what I'll be eating."
Guy flashed a brilliant, white-toothed smile, the sunlight reflecting off his teeth and painfully blinding Izumo Kamizuki and Uchiha Ren, "Leave it to me, Kakashi's responsibility!"
Just as he spoke, a figure flashed into existence!
Seeing this person, Uchiha Ren curiously observed her.
Since the Uchiha Clan's destruction in Konoha, Kurenai had become Konoha's last Genjutsu trump card.
Of course, this trump card was immediately rendered useless when she encountered Itachi later on. After that, apart from Yakumo's storyline, she was practically sealed for seven hundred episodes, had a child, and became useless.
Uchiha Ren remembered that Kurenai was known in the ninja world for her extremely sanity-draining Demonic Illusion: Tree Bind Jutsu.
However, in the face of the Uchiha Clan's Mangekyo Sharingan, it was directly rendered useless.
But as a team leader for the Konoha 12, her combat strength was still not bad.
At least her perception was not lacking.
Seeing Kurenai, Uchiha Ren proactively greeted her.
"Teacher Kurenai, I am Uchiha Ren. Please take care of me."
Kurenai appraised Uchiha Ren.
Among the jōnin, the rumor of this student saving Kakashi's life twice was merely a topic often discussed over tea after meals.
With Kakashi's personal endorsement, jōnin and chūnin who had previously been on missions with Kakashi all had a natural good impression of Uchiha Ren.
"Hello. For this mission, please take care of me too," Kurenai extended her hand and lightly touched Uchiha Ren's.
"Alright!"
Might Guy was full of vigor, "Then let's go! Let's go find the legendary Sannin — Tsunade!"
Kurenai clutched her forehead, "I hope everything goes smoothly."
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The sky seemed to be covered by a gigantic lead-grey curtain. The sun, struggling with all its might, could only squeeze out a few faint, yellowish rays, piercing through the perpetual gloom to fall between the towering skyscrapers.
These buildings were like giants built from steel and concrete, cold, stark, their surfaces covered with the mottled scars left by years and neglect. Water stains and rust spread like a malignant disease, corroding every inch of the city's skin.
The alleys were like a bewildering maze, permeated with pungent odors—a mix of damp, moldy decay, the sour stench of long-accumulated garbage fermenting, and a faint, elusive smell of blood.
Graffiti covered the walls layer upon layer, those twisted, bizarre images and vulgar, provocative words serving as an outlet for the dark desires deep within this city's heart.
During the day, the streets appeared somewhat bustling, yet pedestrians hurried along, their eyes filled with vigilance and unease. When they brushed past each other, they instinctively clutched their bags tighter, afraid of encountering the unexpected.
Cars honked impatiently on the congested roads, and the grey smog from their exhaust continuously swirled, adding another layer of murkiness to the already dim city.
And in the street corners and dark places, one could always see a few loafers gathered in groups of three or five. Dressed in dirty, loose clothes, their eyes were fierce and greedy. They puffed on cigarettes, brazenly sizing up passersby, occasionally whispering to each other, letting out chilling low laughs, as if plotting some unspeakable mischief.
When night fell, the city's true, ferocious face was completely revealed without reservation!
Darkness surged like a tide, devouring the last vestiges of light.
The city was shrouded in a deathly silence, only broken by the occasional sirens and gunshots, echoing through the empty streets and alleys like the mournful cries of night beasts.
Gangs poured out onto the streets. Armed with various deadly weapons, they engaged in bloody fights over pathetic scraps of territory, or to rob a few hapless passersby to satisfy their drug and alcohol addictions. Fists and feet flew, curses intertwined, and the injured's screams tore through the night sky. Fresh blood flowed freely across the ground, yet no one cared, because this was merely the accustomed background music of Gotham nights.
Bruce Ren, with a young, somewhat Oriental face, trudged through this labyrinth of evil and decay every day, dragging his heavy footsteps.
His figure was slightly thin, and his eyes held a weariness beyond his years. Beneath his messy hair were a pair of eyes that were often downcast.
Bruce Ren's life was a mess.
Relying on the stereotype of the 'good-natured Asian', he worked as a kindergarten teacher.
He didn't like children.
Whenever he saw those white and black children arguing loudly in front of him, he only felt annoyed, not endearing.
He was already numb.
Every day, he endured the scolding from parents and the reprimands from the principal. His meager intern salary was barely enough to get by.
After work, he dragged his exhausted body back to his cramped, dim apartment.
The hallway was filled with the pungent smell of mold, the walls covered in graffiti, and the constant quarrels of neighbors filled the surroundings day and night.
This apartment carried his complex memories of reincarnation.
Years ago, a kind but ill-fated white elderly couple found him, then a baby, in an alley, adopted him as their own, and gave him a haven.
But three years ago, a bloody street robbery cruelly took their lives. Their tragic screams and the splattered fresh blood became a nightmare Bruce Ren could not shake.
Since then, Bruce Ren had fallen into endless hardship.
Due to flaws in his adoption paperwork, the cumbersome official procedures, and societal prejudice against minorities, he faced heavy obstacles in inheriting the property.
Although some neighbors and his parents' colleagues came forward to testify out of sympathy, the cold legal articles only granted him the right to reside, tightly shutting the door to the right of sale that would lead to a stable future.
He was trapped in this corner of the world, like a bird with broken wings, gazing at the sky but unable to escape its cage.
Bruce Ren walked home, hugging his arms, trying to avoid the ill-intentioned stares of the addicts.
Suddenly, a commotion broke out, and he looked over!
A few small punks were surrounding an old Korean man with white hair, wantonly mocking and pushing him, spewing a string of obscenities:
"Fuc*! You old yellow monkey! Go back to your country! This is our territory!"
The old man was terrified. The vegetable basket he clutched tightly was knocked to the ground, vegetables rolling out, yet he dared not bend down to pick them up.
A surge of anger welled up in Bruce Ren's heart!
But this fire was extinguished the moment the punks' gazes turned his way.
He had no friends, no family in Gotham, and certainly no strong body.
Facing such a large group of punks, even if he was a little older, he dared not do anything.
Bruce Ren gritted his teeth, his heart full of grief as he hurried around the punks, each step feeling a thousand pounds heavy.
However, the old Korean man's cries and curses behind him were like sharp thorns, brutally piercing his heart, making his steps involuntarily slow down.
"You bastards! Bastards!" The old man's roar, filled with despair and indignation, echoed in the silent alley.
Bruce Ren finally couldn't help but stop and turn his head.
He saw the punks becoming even more frenzied!
They savagely stomped on the tomatoes the old man had painstakingly bought, the bright red juice splattering everywhere, spreading across the ground like fresh blood.
Immediately after, another foot kicked the old vegetable basket. The crisp, piercing sound of bamboo splitting rang out, and the basket instantly collapsed. The vegetables it originally held scattered across the ground, wantonly trampled.
The old man's bloodshot eyes widened, flames of rage burning in them. He trembled his lips and just shouted, "Asshole!" when a yellow-haired punk, with a face full of flabby flesh and a string of broken copper and iron hanging from his ears as an earring, suddenly raised his hand. A slap, accompanied by a whooshing sound, landed squarely on the old man's face!
With a sharp "Slap!", the old man's cheek instantly turned red and swollen. His body stumbled, and he fell to the ground.
This slap seemed to strip away all the old man's stubbornness and courage. Tears in his eyes could no longer be held back, gushing out, his deeply lined face covered in tears and humiliation.
He was already seventy-five years old, had walked a long journey through life, endured storms, and seen all kinds of hardships. Yet in his old age, right at his doorstep, he was being so cruelly humiliated by a group of snot-nosed brats, his dignity trampled beyond recognition.