"Damn it… to die at the hands of… a brat like this…"
The rain grew heavier. The sky turned a uniform gray. Blood continued to pour from the rogue ninja's wound, his life ebbing away with it. His feigned death became real death, hatred filling his heart—but powerless to change anything.
Most shinobi were high offense, low defense. They were still human; their vital weaknesses remained.
Ōoka Shin watched as the rogue ninja "died" again—this time for good. Yet he remained standing in the rain, silently calculating.
Based on what he had learned from Tasaka Chisuke—and his own experience killing—Shin could estimate the rate of blood loss from the angle and depth of the stab wound. From there, using a rough understanding of total human blood volume, he could determine when the enemy would inevitably bleed out.
Even shinobi needed education.
Especially mathematics.
Combat, training, medical treatment, logistics, mapping, intelligence gathering—none of it was separable from math.
With death as motivation, Shin's mathematics had improved far beyond his previous life.
Only after confirming the enemy was beyond saving did he approach.
He moved slowly.
Each step was preceded by careful observation of the corpse and the ground—checking for traps. Only after confirming safety would he take the next step.
In the end, Shin retrieved the short blade safely. He didn't touch the corpse or any other belongings.
According to Chisuke, some shinobi swallowed lethal poison before death—certain toxins even spread through skin contact.
As for personal belongings, they were often riddled with traps: Fūinjutsu seals, explosive tags, poisoned needles.
Most rogue ninja were poor and unlikely to afford such elaborate measures.
But Shin wouldn't gamble.
He was even poorer—and far less knowledgeable. If poisoned, he would simply die.
With the blade secured, Shin found a ruined house to shelter from the rain and ate some dry rations to restore his strength.
"When I ran into those rogue ninja earlier, they had two red-haired children tied up. Could they be Uzumaki survivors?"
On one hand, he didn't know the second rogue's strength. Risking pursuit was dangerous.
On the other hand, if they truly were remnants of the Uzumaki clan, they could be raised as allies—or future experimental subjects. And if he brought them to the Akatsuki, it might earn Nagato's goodwill.
Regardless of Nagato's eventual fate, for the next twenty years, the wielder of the Rinnegan would be one of the strongest beings in the shinobi world.
If Shin could build a relationship with Nagato, his safety would increase. He might even gain access to powerful ninjutsu or Fūinjutsu—and secure support for future plans.
"…Let's do it. Worst case, I die and get revived with the Impure World Reincarnation."
The bond between the five of them granted courage.
One risks his life—five benefit.
As long as one survived and grew strong, even the dead could be brought back.
Rainwater streamed through holes in the broken roof. While recovering stamina, Shin devised a plan. He briefly entered the dream space—but having missed the agreed time, he found no one there.
Dream entry did not equal sleep. They couldn't remain inside indefinitely; true rest was still necessary.
In a cave nearby, the remaining rogue ninja wiped down his sickle, frowning at the rain outside.
"Damn it. It's just a kid. What's taking Saitō so long? Don't tell me he ran into an Amegakure patrol."
Though the Land of Rain was chaotic and Amegakure not as powerful as the Five Great Shinobi Villages, the presence of Hanzō of the Salamander—the so-called "Demigod"—made them formidable. Rain shinobi, forged in constant conflict, were not to be underestimated.
That the Land of Rain maintained independence despite being wedged between three great nations spoke for itself.
Deeper inside the cave, a small boy—four or five years old—huddled miserably. His clothes were soaked and torn. His right leg was tied to a stone with rope, skin worn raw.
He was starving, freezing, terrified.
Yet his hands gently patted the small bundle strapped to his back.
Inside was a frail infant—his younger sister. She sucked mud-streaked fingers, silent despite hunger.
"Sir… can I collect some rainwater to drink? Please…"
The boy was hungry—but more worried for his sister.
"Shut up! Once I kill you, you won't need water!"
Already irritated over his missing partner, the rogue's anger flared instantly. He grabbed his sickle and strode toward the children, intending to kill the "merchandise" and flee.
Children could always be captured again.
Staying alive came first.
The boy's eyes widened in terror. His lips trembled, speechless. He clutched the bundle tighter.
"Who's there?!"
A figure suddenly appeared at the cave entrance.
The rogue shouted and stepped back.
A body collapsed at the cave mouth—back torn open, blood pouring out. It twitched twice, then lay still.
It was his partner.
Before he could process it, another silhouette emerged through the curtain of rain, approaching steadily.
The downpour and darkness obscured the figure's face.
But the implication was clear.
His partner had been killed—and the enemy had followed him here.
"Why didn't you just die sooner? Why lead them here?!"
He cursed his dead companion.
The figure outside suddenly charged.
The rogue knew his own strength was roughly equal to Saitō's. If the enemy had killed one, he could kill the other.
No hesitation.
He rushed forward, sickle raised, intending to block briefly before escaping into the storm.
They collided instantly.
The sickle sliced cleanly through the opponent—
Yet met no resistance.
Rain washed over the figure, revealing its semi-transparent form.
"A Clone Technique?!"
The realization had barely formed—
A flash of cold steel swept from behind.
His head separated cleanly from his body.
The corpse collapsed.
Ōoka Shin stepped back instinctively after the kill, scanning the surroundings before allowing himself to relax.
To eliminate this rogue safely, Shin had initially planned to transform into the dead partner and ambush him.
But he didn't know their code signals, speech patterns, or behavioral habits.
Too risky.
So he combined the Clone Technique and the Transformation Technique.
He created the illusion of a powerful pursuer while disguising himself as the mortally wounded partner—crafting the image of a desperate escape under pressure.
By playing dead, he avoided conversation.
The "pursuer" drew attention.
The clone acted as bait.
This minimized exposure risk and created a clean opening.
In terms of raw strength, the rogue wasn't weaker than Shin.
But preparedness against the unprepared—
Was lethal !