Want to read ahead? ✨
Join my Patreon for just $7 and get early access to all upcoming chapters!
👉 Patreon.com/NegativeTranslations
───────────────────────────
Chapter 157: Not Bad Looking for a Goddess
Hearing the words "Holy Land," Makino's hand shook as she wiped a glass, nearly dropping it to the floor.
She looked at the mysterious guest in terror.
Could it be... a Celestial Dragon?
The person didn't show the slightest reaction to Blake exposing their identity. They simply stared quietly at Blake, as if trying to see through to his very soul.
"You are younger than I imagined."
The person spoke.
"And you are much freer than I imagined."
Blake set down his glass and turned around to face the supreme ruler of this world.
Imu.
The owner of the Empty Throne.
A monster who had lived for eight hundred years.
"I originally thought you would send those five old geezers to scout the path."
A playful smile curled at the corner of Blake's mouth. His fingers tapped lightly on the bar counter, creating a rhythmic sound.
"I didn't expect you to come in person."
The hood slid down.
In that instant, the light within the tavern seemed to undergo an indescribable distortion.
There was no aged, decaying face as one might imagine, nor were there the ferocious features of a monster.
appearing before Blake was a face so beautiful it verged on unreality.
Long blue hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall, every strand seeming to flow with the brilliance of a galaxy. Her skin was so pale it was nearly transparent, exuding a cold texture that did not belong to the mortal dust. In those indifferent golden eyes, rings of deep crimson ripples existed—resembling both the vortex of reincarnation and some supreme divine seal.
If Boa Hancock's beauty was a desire that made one's blood boil, then the beauty of the woman before him was a divinity that made one feel ashamed of their own inferiority.
Perfection.
Perfect not like a living creature, but like a conceptual entity sculpted over hundreds of millions of years.
Makino took only one look and felt her mind go blank. She lowered her head instinctively, her body trembling uncontrollably. It was the fear erupting from the depths of genes when a lower-dimensional being looked directly at a higher-dimensional existence.
However, Blake merely blinked.
He picked up the teapot to the side, poured himself a cup of cold water, and offered a sincere compliment.
"You're really pretty."
The air solidified.
If the Five Elders were present right now, their hearts would likely stop from sheer terror. In these eight hundred years, no one had ever dared to speak to Imu in such a tone.
"You are not a person of this world."
Imu did not get angry; no emotion could be read on her face.
Blake smiled.
If it were before he obtained Shendu's abilities, he might have held a shred of apprehension facing the final boss of the pirate world.
But now.
I lack nothing!
Blake picked up the water pitcher and poured a cup of plain water into the empty glass in front of Imu, his movements smooth and flowing.
"You can imagine me as a..."
"Star Traveler."
"Star Traveler?" Imu repeated the unfamiliar term.
"That's right. Someone who comes from other places in the universe." Blake pointed to the ceiling. "To me, this world is just one stop on a long journey."
"Star Traveler?"
Imu repeated the word again, her voice still without fluctuation, like a slight ripple in an ancient well.
Originally, she held only pure curiosity toward this newly born spark. For eight hundred years, she had sat alone on the Empty Throne; she had been lonely for too long.
She had thought this would just be a small amusement in her long life, but she didn't expect the man before her to truly surprise her. Even though there was no energy fluctuation coming from him, just him sitting there made her feel an urge to worship.
This made her heart incredibly fearful.
As the only remaining deity in this world, for her to give birth to such a feeling... what exactly was this man's origin?
Imu's heart, silent for eight hundred years, fluctuated for the first time.
"Don't worry too much about my identity. Rest assured, I have no interest in overturning the World Government. We are not enemies."
Blake looked at Imu, the smile in his eyes deepening.
It was the look of someone staring at a peerless treasure... or rather, looking at a top-quality leek growing delightfully well.
If he could pull her into a dungeon...
A god-tier carry.
"You look very bored."
Blake suddenly changed the subject.
Imu was slightly startled.
"Bored?"
"That's right, bored."
"Invincibility is lonely, and ruling is also lonely."
"Eight hundred years, looking at the same sea, watching the same humans live and die like ants, watching history repeat itself like a clumsy cycle of reincarnation."
"Even a god would get tired of such days, right?"
Imu did not refute him.
Her gaze passed through the tavern window, looking at the azure sky outside.
That was the scenery she had watched for eight hundred years.
Just as Blake said, this sea held no secrets for her anymore, nor any freshness.
Everything was under her control.
And absolute control often meant absolute boredom.
"What do you want to say?"
Imu withdrew her gaze and looked back at Blake.
"Since this sea already bores you."
Blake snapped his fingers.
Snap!
A crisp sound rang out in the tavern.
"Then do you want to see... other worlds?"
The moment his voice fell.
Inside the dimly lit tavern, four light screens suddenly lit up.
They floated in mid-air with astonishing clarity, as if they were four windows leading to other worlds.
Imu's pupils contracted slightly.
.....
[Naruto Dungeon World]
Underground in Amegakure (Hidden Rain Village), deep within the abandoned drainage system.
This was the temporary stronghold of the "Akatsuki" organization. The air was filled with the smell of moldy straw and the fishy stench unique to sewers. Dim kerosene lamps cast swaying shadows on the walls, stretching the current tension into something even more twisted.
"Move."
Konan carried a worn-out ninja tool pouch on her back. Her short blue hair was wet with rain, plastered against her cheeks. Her hand tightly gripped several kunai folded from stiff paper; although they were just paper, infused with Chakra, they were sharp enough to slice through rock.
Blocking the rusted iron door was Yahiko.
The orange-haired youth lowered his head, his hands firmly braced against the sides of the door frame, fingernails digging deep into the rotting wood. His shoulders were trembling, but he didn't move.
"I said move! Yahiko!"
Konan's voice was so shrill it cracked, her usual gentleness gone. She rushed forward, shoving hard against Yahiko's chest.
"My brother was taken! Just now! To cover our escape, he lured Hanzo's personal guard away all by himself!"
"I know!" Yahiko growled low, but his body remained as immovable as if nailed to the ground.
"You know? You know and you won't let me go? That's my brother! The sworn brother you kept talking about living and dying with!"
Konan pounded on Yahiko like a madwoman, her fists falling like rain on his chest, shoulders, and face. Tears slid down her cheeks, dripping into the puddles on the ground, stirring up insignificant ripples.
"Don't you know what kind of person Hanzo is? Falling into his hands, can my brother still live? If I go now, maybe I can still..."
"If you go now, you are throwing your life away."
Yahiko suddenly raised his head. Those eyes, usually full of sunshine and foolish optimism, were now bloodshot and frighteningly red.
He grabbed Konan's wrist, his grip so strong it hurt her.
"That is Hanzo of the Salamander! The man called a 'Demigod' by the Three Great Nations! Even the Sannin of Konoha fled in disgrace before him. What do we count for?"
Konan froze. She looked at Yahiko as if she were meeting this partner she grew up with for the first time.
"So?" Konan's voice went cold, carrying a tremble of disbelief. "Because he is a Demigod, because we will die, so we give up on my brother? Just let him wait there to die?"
"It's not giving up!"
Yahiko let go of her hand, clutching his head in pain as he slid down the door frame to sit on the ground.
"It's Arashi... It was he who wouldn't let us go."
He pulled a crumpled note from his chest and handed it to Konan. There was only one scrawled line on the paper. The ink had blurred slightly from the rain, but it still conveyed a resolute strength.
[If I am unfortunate enough to be captured, everyone goes silent. Preserve the spark. Do not come to save me. This is an order. — Arashi]
───────────────────────────
Love this fanfic? 💙
Support it by leaving positive reviews, comments, and Power Stones!
For advance chapters, visit:
👉 Patreon.com/NegativeTranslations