"I want to."
She paused, the ninja sword in her hand spinning half a circle, its blade pointed in his direction:
"Stab you through the heart."
Shinji looked at her.
The fire in those eyes burned even brighter, yet there was no expression on her face.
Only that fire, sealed beneath a layer of ice, burned hot enough to scorch one's heart.
"After this stab, if you can survive, I will... stab you again!"
Shinji was silent for a moment.
Then he turned around.
Ran.
Shinji was running.
Running crazily.
Chakra poured into his legs; the branches under his feet snapped and crackled, and fallen leaves kicked up in a cloud behind him.
He bolted toward the depths of the forest with the fastest speed and the most frantic posture.
Without any plan, without any direction, just running.
He dove into areas with more trees, into the densest parts of the woods, into places that could block that figure.
But it was useless.
The sound of wind breaking behind him grew closer.
Ten paces. Eight paces. Five paces.
He could feel Mei Terumī's presence.
He was too familiar with that oppressive feeling; in fifteen years of simulations, he had seen Mei Terumī strike countless times.
That speed, that explosive power, that persistence of never letting go once she locked onto her prey.
A dual Kekkei Genkai holder of Yōton and Boiling Release, the Fifth Mizukage of the Hidden Mist Village, and currently, the master of the Bloodline Selection: Mist Release.
Even a Water Clone was enough to make him suffer.
Thirty percent of Mei Terumī's true strength was enough to drive him to a dead end.
With his current twelve-year-old body, he simply couldn't outrun her.
"System? System! Don't play dead! I want an explanation!"
Shinji screamed in his heart.
"Shinji—"
Her voice came from behind, carrying the wind, carrying killing intent, and carrying that fire that had been burning for fifteen years.
"Do you think you can get away?"
Three paces.
Shinji gritted his teeth, exerted force into his feet, and darted off at an angle.
A cold glint grazed his shoulder—the ninja sword.
The blade cut through his clothes, leaving a shallow bloody scratch on his shoulder.
It hurt, but he couldn't care less.
Landing, he kept running.
Two paces.
"Fifteen years!"
Her voice was even closer, so close it felt like it was right against the back of his head:
"You lied to me for fifteen years!"
Another stab.
This time he didn't dodge fast enough.
The ninja sword slashed across his back, cutting through his tactical vest and leaving a bloody gash.
Blood surged out, soaking his clothes and trickling down his spine.
Warm and sticky.
But he didn't stop; he just kept running.
One pace.
He could almost hear her breathing.
Just behind him, a step away.
"Shinji, you scumbag, you destroyed everything I had!"
Shinji didn't answer.
He just ran.
Running for his life.
His mind raced.
This wouldn't do.
Absolutely not.
Mei Terumī's Water Clone was much faster than him; at most, he could last another half a minute before she caught up.
By then, he couldn't imagine what kind of torture he would suffer.
He had to think of a way; he had to find a variable.
What was in this forest?
Examinees.
Most were Genin, and there were few Chunin.
Useless; they would be taken down by Mei Terumī's Water Clone the moment they met.
Anbu?
There must be Anbu monitoring around the exam site, but that kind of surveillance was on the perimeter and wouldn't penetrate deep inside.
By the time they arrived, he would already be dead.
What else?
Shinji's pupils constricted slightly.
Orochimaru.
Right.
Orochimaru.
In the original story, during the Chunin Exams, Orochimaru disguised himself as a Grass ninja and infiltrated the Forest of Death.
His target was Sasuke; he wanted to place the Cursed Seal on him and test his capacity.
If he remembered correctly, he should be looking for Sasuke right now.
No.
Not just looking.
According to the timeline, he should have already found Sasuke by now.
He might even have already made a move.
Orochimaru was using a vessel, so his strength was less than half of his true self.
But that was Orochimaru, one of the Sannin, an S-rank rogue ninja.
With so many forbidden jutsu up his sleeve, even if it was just a vessel, he could still fight.
He didn't need him to win.
He only needed him to stall.
To stall Mei Terumī's Water Clone.
Stall for ten minutes—no, five minutes was enough.
In five minutes, he could run far enough away and then find a place to hide.
The Forest of Death was so huge; in five days, she couldn't search every inch of land.
Shinji's ears twitched.
In the distance ahead, some sounds could be vaguely heard.
A huge, low hiss—not an ordinary snake, but that kind of giant snake formed by Chakra—along with the booming sound of trees collapsing.
Someone was fighting there.
And the scale was not small.
The corner of Shinji's mouth twitched.
It had to be.
Orochimaru.
He exerted force into his feet and charged toward the direction the sound was coming from.
The sound of wind breaking behind him was still chasing; the one-pace distance couldn't be shaken off.
But he didn't care anymore.
He just ran.
Ran.
Ran.
The front grew closer, and the hissing sound became clearer.
Along with the booming sound of trees collapsing and the shouts of a young man.
"Sasuke!"
It was Naruto's voice.
Immediately following was another voice, carrying uncontrollable fear and anger:
"Damn it, what the hell is this thing!"
That was Sasuke.
Shinji's pupils constricted slightly.
This was the place.
He passed through the last patch of dense forest, and the view suddenly opened up.
In a cleared area where trees had been crushed, a giant snake lay in the center.
The snake was three or four zhang thick, its scales shimmering with a cold light, and its flicking tongue brought a wave of stench.
It was opening its bloody mouth, biting down toward the two young men on the ground.
Naruto was kneeling on the ground, his Chakra exhausted, unable to move.
He was covered in wounds, his face full of dirt and blood, his goggles skewed to one side, but those blue eyes were still staring fixedly ahead.
Sasuke stood in front of him.
One hand gripped a ninja sword, the other hung by his side, the lightning of Chidori still lingering on his fingertips, but it had already extinguished.
His Chakra was also running on empty.
His hand was trembling, his breathing was rapid, but he hadn't retreated a single step.
And on top of the snake's head stood a man.
Long hair, vertical golden pupils, purple eyeshadow, and pale skin.
He wore an Otogakure forehead protector around his neck, and a cold smile hung on the corners of his mouth.
Orochimaru.
He looked down at the two youths from above, as if watching two mice trapped in a cage.
"Descendant of the Uchiha Clan..."
His voice was cold and sinister, carrying a certain morbid craving:
"It's truly exciting."
The moment Shinji rushed out, Orochimaru's gaze happened to sweep over.
Those snake eyes narrowed slightly, sizing up this Konoha Genin who had suddenly appeared.
An ordinary black-haired boy.
An ordinary build, ordinary features.
The kind of ordinary that you absolutely couldn't find if you threw him into a crowd.
But those eyes were too deep, so deep they looked like two bottomless wells.
Orochimaru suddenly felt it was a bit interesting.
Then, he saw behind Shinji.
The figure that was chasing.
A woman with tea-brown long hair, emerald green eyes, and a body exuding terrifying Chakra fluctuations.
The Fifth Mizukage.
Orochimaru's pupils constricted.
Mei Terumī?
Why would she be here?