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Chapter 161: The Rainy Night in Amegakure
"Uncle, you're just too easy to talk to."
The scar-faced man named Gangzi snorted coldly, stowing away his kunai. "In a hellhole like this, kindness is just a way to get yourself killed."
The middle-aged man gave a bitter smile but didn't refute the statement. He fished a dry, hard food pill from his chest pocket and handed it to Dragon. "Eat something, Matsu. No matter what, you need strength to survive."
Dragon looked at the rough hand extending toward him. It was covered in calluses and tiny cuts, the dirt under the fingernails impossible to wash away. Yet, it was these very hands that supported a family and upheld the only sanctuary for Arashi and Konan's childhood. Dragon silently took the food pill and placed it in his mouth. It was dry, hard to swallow, and tasted of earth, but it made a lump form in his throat.
"Thanks... Daiichi."
Dragon spoke the man's name. Daiichi. A name so simple it bordered on casual, much like the thousands of bottom-tier civilians in this country—humble as grass.
"Don't mention it." Daiichi settled back into the corner, pulling a small, close-fitting cloth pouch from his chest. He carefully unfolded layers of oil paper to reveal a yellowing black-and-white photograph. In the photo, a young woman held a swaddled infant. The woman smiled sweetly, while the baby was crying with its mouth wide open.
Daiichi gently rubbed the photo with his rough thumb, his gaze turning incredibly tender. "When this war is over, I'll apply for retirement." He seemed to be talking to himself, yet also speaking to Dragon. "My boy should be fourteen this year... I wonder how tall he's grown."
Daiichi sighed, though a hopeful smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "The kid's name is Arashi. He's a smart boy. His health isn't great, but he's very sensible. As long as Lord Hanzo can drive these great nations out, I'll take my wife and kid to the countryside to farm. No more being a ninja. It's too tiring."
Dead silence filled the trench. Only the sound of the rain outside, pattering endlessly, could be heard. Dragon leaned against the cold, damp earthen wall, his eyes lowered, obscuring his expression.
"That day will come," Dragon said after a long pause.
But that person won't be Hanzo.
Daiichi paused for a moment, then scratched his head sheepishly. "Haha, is that right? If that could really happen, that would be wonderful."
Suddenly, Dragon's gaze sharpened. He snapped his head toward the curtain of rain outside the trench. His Observation Haki had caught a disturbance. Over a dozen chakra signatures were approaching rapidly, their killing intent undisguised.
"Enemy attack!"
Dragon shouted in a low voice, springing up like a cheetah. Before Gangzi and Daiichi could react, several kunai tagged with explosive tags pierced through the rain curtain, nailing themselves to the edge of the trench.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Violent explosions kicked up mud and dirt. The trench collapsed instantly, black smoke billowing.
"Cough, cough! Damn it! It's Iwagakure!" Gangzi crawled out of the dirt pile in a sorry state, gripping his kunai tightly, his eyes filled with terror.
In the rain ahead, over a dozen Rock ninja wearing dark red armor emerged from the ground like a pack of hunting wolves, surrounding the small outpost. The leader, a tall Jonin, wove hand signs, and sharp stone spears instantly jutted from the ground.
"Earth Release: Earth Flow Spears!"
Pfft!
Two Rain ninja who hadn't reacted in time were pierced through the chest by the stone spears. Blood sprayed out, dyeing the muddy water red.
"Daiichi! Look out!" Gangzi screamed in horror.
A stone spear was thrusting rapidly from the ground right beneath Daiichi's feet. Daiichi, dazed by the shockwave of the explosion, was too late to dodge. He looked in despair at the approaching spear of death, the yellowing photo flashing through his mind one last time.
In that split second, a hand pressed down on Daiichi's shoulder.
There was no earth-shattering ninjutsu light, nor any complex hand signs. Just a gentle press. Daiichi felt his body being pulled backward by a soft yet irresistible force, instantly removing him from the spear's attack range.
Boom!
The stone spear struck empty air, shattering a boulder into powder. Daiichi sat in the mud, shaken, and looked up. He saw his usually taciturn squad leader, "Matsu," standing exactly where he had been moments ago.
Facing the dozen encircling Rock ninja, there was not a trace of fear on Dragon's face. He didn't even assume a ninja fighting stance. He simply stood there casually, letting the rain soak his hair.
"Kill him! Leave no one alive!" the Iwa Jonin commanded coldly.
Four Rock ninja rushed forward simultaneously, their katana glinting with cold light as they stabbed toward Dragon's throat, heart, and lower abdomen. Their coordination was seamless and vicious.
"Matsu! Run!" Daiichi roared, trying to crawl up to help.
But in the next second, his movement froze. Everyone's movements froze.
Dragon slowly raised his right hand, his fingers forming a claw. A pitch-black hue instantly covered his fingers—Armament Haki, darker than the night itself.
"Dragon Claw."
The rain poured down, turning heaven and earth into a blur of grey. Within the trench, the air seemed to solidify. The hand, coated in a glossy black sheen, simply squeezed gently.
Crack!
The sound of metal shattering rang out, setting teeth on edge. The fine steel katana the Rock ninja prided themselves on crumbled like fragile crackers between Dragon's fingertips, turning into scrap metal instantly.
"What?!" The Iwa Jonin's pupils contracted violently, his body instinctively wanting to retreat.
But the pitch-black hand had already passed through the flying metal shards and clamped onto his throat. Dragon remained expressionless, the muscles in his arm bulging slightly as his three fingers exerted force in the shape of a dragon's claw.
Pfft!
Blood mixed with crushed bone sprayed from the Jonin's neck. The rain continued to fall, biting cold. The Iwa Jonin's corpse slumped softly to the ground, his neck twisted at a grotesque angle. The remaining dozen Rock ninja froze in place, their eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.
What had they just seen? An instant kill on a Jonin!
"Retreat! Retreat immediately!"
Someone dropped their kunai, turned, and ran. Dragon shook the blood from his hand. He didn't pursue. Instead, he turned to look at Gangzi and Daiichi, who were huddled in the corner of the trench.
The rain in the Land of Rain had been weeping for too long.
.....
Meanwhile.
At the intersection of the Land of Fire and the Land of Wind, on the Mt. Kikyo battlefield.
This place was a true meat grinder. Konoha, Sunagakure, and Iwagakure—three forces clashed here, interlocking like fangs. Hundreds, even thousands, of ninja died here every day. The air was thick with the suffocating smell of blood and the stench of rotting corpses.
Boom!
A massive pillar of fire shot into the sky, burning several Suna puppet masters and their puppets to ash. As the flames dissipated, a young man wearing the Uchiha clan uniform with wild, untamed long hair stood upon the scorched earth.
Beneath his foot, he stepped on the head of a Suna Jonin.
"Too weak."
Golden Lion Shiki ground the head beneath his toe with a look of disgust. "This is the puppet unit Sunagakure is so proud of? You aren't even fit to carry my shoes."
The surrounding Konoha ninja watched this scene, their eyes filled with both awe and deep fear.
"Blood Asura..."
Someone whispered the title that had become terrifying on the battlefield. In just half a year, the name Tsubasa Uchiha had become a nightmare for ninja of every nation. He was like a wild lion bursting into a flock of sheep; wherever he passed, only destruction and death remained. Those crimson three-tomoe Sharingan eyes seemed like invitations from the Grim Reaper.
"Damn brat! Let go of the Captain!"
Several surviving Suna ninja, eyes red with rage, charged forward manipulating their broken puppets. Shiki glanced at them, the corners of his mouth splitting into a cruel arc.
"Jihahahaha! Admirable courage!"
He abruptly drew the long sword at his waist. It was a chakra-conducting blade he had rummaged from the Uchiha treasury. Although it couldn't compare to his famous swords "Oto" and "Kogarashi," it was barely usable.
"Since you're in such a rush to die, I'll oblige you!"
Shiki's figure flashed. Pure speed. Pure swordsmanship.
Spurt! Spurt! Spurt!
Three blossoms of blood bloomed almost simultaneously. The Suna ninja hadn't even seen how he moved before their throats were slit. The bodies hit the ground.
Shiki flicked the beads of blood off the blade and licked his lips, unsatisfied.
"Boring."
"Too boring!"
He roared towards the sky, his voice filled with mania and dissatisfaction. This pair of eyes. The Sharingan. This ability to see through all movements and copy all ninjutsu was simply custom-made for him.
But it wasn't enough.
Shiki touched his eye sockets. The three tomoe spun, emitting a bewitching light. Not long ago, he had learned the ultimate secret of the Uchiha clan from that old fossil, Setsuna Uchiha. The three-tomoe was not the end. Above it, there was the legendary "Mangekyo Sharingan." The power of "Shinra Bansho"—All Creation. But aside from the ancestor Madara Uchiha, no one had ever unlocked it.
"Dammit, how the hell do I open that door?"
Shiki kicked the corpse at his feet away, scratching his hair irritably. That old thing Setsuna said that to open the Mangekyo, one must experience massive mental stimulation, usually witnessing the death of a close relative or loved one.
"Close relative? Loved one?"
Shiki scoffed at this. In this damn dungeon, he didn't have any relatives to speak of.
"Am I going to be stuck here?"
Shiki was unwilling to accept this. He was the man who would become the King of the World; how could he stop here!
Just then, a Konoha Anbu flickered into appearance behind him, kneeling on one knee.
"Lord Tsubasa, Lord Orochimaru has ordered you to immediately head to the eastern defense line for support. The Cloud's elite unit has appeared there, led by..." The Anbu paused, a tremor in his voice. "Yotsuki Raito, known as the 'Rampaging Lightning'."
Hearing this name, Shiki's impatient expression froze instantly, followed by an eruption of wild laughter.
"Jihahahaha! Has that bastard Garp come too?"
Yotsuki Raito. That Cloud barbarian who only knew how to smash people with his fists—who else could it be but that old bastard Garp? He heard that guy was a scourge on the Cloud battlefield too, even beating the Eight-Tails Jinchuriki into submission.
"Good! Very good!"
The three tomoe in Shiki's eyes spun madly as a terrifying chakra erupted into the sky, shaking the surrounding rubble. Since killing these small fry couldn't stimulate his eyes to evolve, he would kill someone with enough weight!
If he could personally slaughter Garp or Kizaru... that sense of achievement should be enough to evolve these eyes, right?
"Tell Orochimaru, I'm going right now!" Shiki grinned ferociously as he turned, his long black hair dancing wildly in the wind. "Just in time to use that old bastard's blood to consecrate my new eyes!"
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