Chapter 45 - Victory

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---

The Special Jonin's face twisted in shock: "How did you find me?!"

Renjiro muttered under his breath: "Fog… is just another form of water."

The mist around him was so dense, it was practically liquid. But Renjiro had adapted—his Mind Net was no longer powered by just mental energy. He had integrated Lightning Chakra into it, allowing his senses to move freely through the moisture-laden air.

Every subtle shift, every ripple in the fog, now reached him clearly—and his mind processed it instantly, aided by Arkain's rapid calculation system.

"It's time to strike back." For the first time in the battle, Renjiro felt momentum shift in his favor.

In one smooth motion, he twisted his grip on the blade—and with a surge of chakra, he brought it crashing down.

Whoosh!

The Mist-nin wasn't ready. He took the full weight of the attack—but something was wrong.

Renjiro froze for a heartbeat, eyes narrowing. There, at the edge of his opponent's mouth—a smile.

"Damn it!" Renjiro cursed in his mind, a chill creeping down his spine. That wasn't the face of someone who had just lost control—it was a trap.

Soru!

Whoosh!

Renjiro vanished in the blink of an eye, reappearing on the far side of the room just as a kunai sliced through the space he'd stood a second earlier.

He landed hard, staggering slightly, his breath ragged.

"Ahhh!" Renjiro gasped, clutching his right shoulder—blood spilling through his fingers. The kunai had hit its mark, piercing him so fast he hadn't even had time to react.

"Damn it… when did he get behind me again?"

His mind reeled. The one he'd struck—he was sure it was real. He had felt the chakra flow, the physical resistance, the solid pressure of contact.

And yet... it was still an illusion.

"Confused?" The Missing-nin's voice echoed eerily through the mist, playful and mocking: "Wondering what's real and what's not?"

Renjiro clenched his jaw, staying silent, but his eyes were scanning the fog around him with razor focus.

"Don't worry." The voice sneered again: "You won't be confused for long… I'm going to kill you quickly."

Whoosh!

A shadow burst from the fog—the Mist-nin dashed forward, kunai raised high, aiming for the kill.

Whoosh!

Renjiro reacted instantly, slashing his sword to intercept the strike—but the kunai vanished into thin air. His blade sliced through nothing.

Whoosh!

Before he could adjust, the real attack came from another angle— flash of cold light—

Shunk!

The enemy's blade plunged into Renjiro's chest.

"Ahh!"

Renjiro cried out in pain, staggering backward. He looked down at the wound, eyes wide with disbelief, his face twisted in pain and frustration.

Inside his mind, Arkain's alarms exploded into action—a storm of beeps and warnings:

[Warning! Emergency!]

[Critical injury detected! Initiating Survival Protocol!]

[Releasing stored bio-energy. Scanning damage. Beginning emergency repair sequence—]

---

The enemy didn't press the attack. He assumed Renjiro was done for.

With a smug look, he began speaking—careless of whether Renjiro could hear or not. In his eyes, the fight was already over. There was no way Renjiro could survive that blow: "My Genjutsu is an old technique—one that blends illusion and reality. What you believe to be real… might be fake. And what you dismiss as fake…"

He chuckled darkly and added: "…might still be fake or might be real."

"Like when you stabbed me earlier?" He grinned and continued: "That was just a Water Clone."

Renjiro's heart clenched. He muttered weakly: "But… how? My senses told me—"

"You sensed chakra." The Missing-nin cut in: "Water Clones retain my chakra signature. That's more than enough to fool your fancy sensory technique."

He stepped closer, his tone turning cold and serious: "Even if you'd attacked from the opposite side, I had more than enough time to create another clone—or cast another illusion."

"You should be proud. You're one of the most gifted shinobi I've ever seen…"

"But your defeat was inevitable from the beginning."

"Ahmm!"

Renjiro coughed up a mouthful of blood, but his gaze stayed locked on the enemy—burning with anger and helpless.

Dang!

Renjiro suddenly dropped to one knee, his left hand pressed tightly over the deep wound in his chest. His right hand kept him from collapsing entirely.

"Ahmm! Ahmm!"

He coughed violently, blood at the corner of his mouth, before lifting his head with great effort. His voice was weak and shaky as he spoke: "Can... can you tell me... wh-why your Genjutsu is different… Ahmm!... from the others?"

The Missing-nin's grin widened, a flicker of pride gleaming in his eyes, as said casually: "I had fun fighting you. So, I'll give you an answer."

He took a step forward, voice filled with arrogance: "Most Genjutsu fail because they try to control every part of the opponent's mind. But that makes them too rigid—too easy to break."

"My illusion?" The Missing-nin smirked: "It doesn't bother with all that mental domination. It targets only your sight."

"It doesn't matter if you know it's Genjutsu. It doesn't matter if you try to resist. That's the beauty of it."

"All it does… is warp what you see. A slight shift in angles. A hint of movement where there is none. Just enough to throw off your perception."

He began pacing slowly through the mist, his voice was calm yet chilling: "When that subtle misdirection is combined with the assassination style of the Hidden Mist—and my mastery of clones and redirection…" He raised his arms theatrically, as if unveiling a masterpiece: "It becomes my ultimate technique—Art of Illusory Execution."

---

Genjutsu: Silent Mirage Execution Technique!

It was more than just a Jutsu—it was a battle doctrine. A combat philosophy built entirely around one idea: manipulating the enemy's perception.

At its core, it didn't aim to dominate the mind. Instead, it pursued the extreme distortion of visual awareness, tricking enemies into making deadly mistakes. When mastered by a skilled Genjutsu specialist, it could turn even the most experienced shinobi into helpless prey—just like the Missing-nin had done to Renjiro.

He had used everything—clones, visual disruptions, chakra decoys—layered and woven together with surgical precision. And then he struck when his opponent was most confused, it was terrifying Jutsu.

But in that terror… Renjiro saw potential.

A new path. A fresh concept of Genjutsu—one that didn't rely on invasive mental domination, but on sensory misdirection.

It didn't require rare talent or deep theorical knowledge. For someone like Renjiro, who only had basic Genjutsu training, this wasn't just a theory. It was a practical tool, something usable in real combat, something real.

---

The Missing-nin stood less than half a meter away, towering over Renjiro like a predator savoring its final blow.

"Well then." He sneered, raising a kunai toward Renjiro's throat: "I've told you everything. You can die without regrets now."

A smug grin twisted across his face as he sneered: "Time to go to hell."

Just as the blade came down—Renjiro smiled.

And then, at last, the voice he'd been waiting for echoed inside his mind:

[Beep! Wound Repair Complete! Vital Signs Stabilized... Life-Support Mode: Deactivated.]

[Beep! Taijutsu Task [Tekkai] Simulation Completed! Extract Data?]

"Yes. Right away!"

In that instant, a rush of raw combat knowledge flooded Renjiro's mind—neural pathways, muscle coordination, chakra flow patterns—all syncing in perfect harmony.

Tekkai Taijutsu Technique: Adapted and Completed!

The sudden grin on Renjiro's face sent a chill crawling down the Missing-nin's spine.

But it was too late. His hand shot forward with deadly speed, and the kunai sliced downward in a blur—

"Tekkai." Renjiro whispered in his heart.

Clang!

The blade struck something unnaturally solid—like reinforced metal. The sound echoed through the room with a sharp, metallic ring.

"W-What?!"

The Mist-nin's eyes went wide in disbelief.

He hadn't aimed for the throat. He had feinted—his true target was the artery beneath it. Yet the moment the blade landed on Renjiro's throat, it felt like it had hit iron.

Renjiro exhaled slowly, his breath finally became steady. A confident appeared on his face.

"Thanks for explaining your Genjutsu." Renjiro said calmly: "You taught me more than you realized."

As he spoke, his hands began to move—forming hand seals in swift, practiced motion.

Crrkkk!

With the final sign, a crackling orb of lightning surged into his palm, crackling with intense blue-white arcs that lit up the room.

Lightning Release: Thunder Ball Jutsu!

The Missing-nin was still too close—caught off guard by the sudden shift of the situation. His eyes widened in panic, but his body was frozen in shock. He had no time to dodge, no chance to react.

Without hesitation, Renjiro slammed the lightning ball straight into the enemy's chest.

BOOM! CRRKKK!

An explosion of blinding light and electricity erupted through the chamber, violently scattering chakra like storm-born lightning.

When the flash finally faded, the air stank of ozone and scorched flesh.

The Missing-nin was laying sprawled on the floor, eyes rolled white, limbs twitching—thoroughly roasted.

Renjiro dropped to his knees, gasping for breath

"I… won." His voice trembled with exhaustion.

He had done it—defeated a Special Jonin alone.

He'd used strategy, deception, and every ounce of his strength—not brute force, but by making the enemy drop his guard… by listening, learning, and waiting for the perfect moment. Victory hadn't come easy, but it had come.

---

After resting for a moment, Renjiro forced himself to his feet, legs trembling beneath the weight of exhaustion.

He limped over to the fallen enemy and knelt beside the charred corpse, checking for any signs of life—breath, pulse, chakra… anything. Only when he confirmed the man was truly dead did he finally let out a long, relieved breath.

He had nothing left in the tank. If that final attack hadn't worked, he wouldn't have been able to stand again. Luck had played a big part in his survival.

Just then, the dense mist that had cloaked the room began to fade, thinning out with the enemy's death.

---

"Right… what about Maemon and the others?" Renjiro turned toward the corner where he had left Tsugami.

His eyes widened: "What the hell?"

Where his teammates should have been, there was now a compact dome of hardened earth—like a crude bunker or a clay yurt.

"That's Maemon's work." Renjiro muttered, blinking. Only he in the squad can use Earth Release.

Quickly, Renjiro pieced things together.

While he had been fighting within the suffocating fog, the enemy had likely gone after the others. Maemon must have created this shelter to protect them.

Still limping, Renjiro approached the clay dome and knocked gently against its surface.

Knock! Knock!

"It's me—Renjiro."

A moment later, a small opening formed in the earthen dome. Maemon and Meri burst out, followed closely by Domaru and a limping Tsugami.

The moment they saw Renjiro's miserable appearance, they froze in shock.

"Renjiro!" Meri gasped, her eyes widening in horror at the sight of his blood-soaked chest.

There were cuts and bruises all over him, but his chest was completely drenched in deep red.

"Are you okay?"

Her voice trembled as her eyes filled with tears. Within seconds, fat droplets streamed down her cheeks.

"We need to treat him—now!" Maemon shouted urgently.

Tsugami, who had been nursing his own wounds—partially treated by Meri earlier—forgot everything else and rushed forward to support Renjiro.

But Renjiro raised his hands, trying to calm them: "It's not as bad as it looks." He said with a faint, crooked smile: "See? It's just blood. Don't worry too much."

---

Suddenly, noise erupted from outside.

"Quick! Surround the place!"

"Move! Move! Who's going in first?"

"What the hell happened in there?!"

Shouts echoed from all directions—panic and confusion spreading like wildfire. A group of thugs from the village had finally realized something was wrong and rushed to surround the compound.

But they were too late. The battle was already over.

And unfortunately for them, they had arrived at the worst possible moment—just as Meri, Maemon, Tsugami, and even Domaru were all in the perfect mood to vent their rage.

Anger and frustration. The helplessness they had endured while trapped in Genjutsu—it was all bubbling to the surface.

And now? Team Renjiro needed an outlet. A target to absorb all that pent-up rage and humiliation.

Those unfortunate thugs had picked the worst possible moment to show up. Their fate was already sealed.