"Chicken soup is ready."
Terumi Mei carried a pot of steaming chicken soup and placed it at the center of the table. Seeing that no one moved to eat, she furrowed her brows and asked, "Why aren't you eating?"
She pulled out a chair and sat down.
Around the table sat seven people.
Logan, Momo, and Sasuke.
The Bai family of three.
And Terumi Mei.
Despite the cozy gathering, the atmosphere was heavy and awkward.
"This is Teacher Zhao," Bai offered, trying to break the ice. "She came to the village a week ago and has been teaching the local children to read and write for free. When my mom fell sick, she also helped us cook."
Bai's voice was sincere, hoping the introduction would lighten the tension.
It didn't.
Logan sat silently, eyes locked on Terumi Mei.
Those who often face assassination attempts know that danger isn't always loud or obvious. Sometimes, it comes dressed in smiles, and all you have to rely on is instinct.
And Logan's instincts were screaming.
From the first moment he laid eyes on her, he knew—Terumi Mei wasn't ordinary.
But who could have tipped her off? The only one who knew of Logan's destination was Hayato Kanbara, and he had already fled to Konoha. By logic, no bounty hunter or assassin should've had time to set up an ambush in this remote village.
Could it be… coincidence?
Was she truly just a traveling teacher?
Across the table, Terumi Mei kept her warm smile. Her eyes, however, sparkled with curiosity.
So this is Logan? she mused. Doesn't seem any different from other shinobi. So, are you going to eat this food? Will you test me for poison first?
She ran through the possibilities, trying to anticipate his next move.
Crash!
Logan suddenly stood up, the legs of his chair scraping loudly against the floor.
"Teacher Zhao," he said evenly. "Please follow me."
"…Huh?"
Before she could respond, Logan had already turned and walked outside. Feigning confusion, Terumi Mei got up and followed him into the snowy courtyard.
Cold wind blew between them as they stood under the open sky.
"You know who I am," Logan stated bluntly.
No small talk. No subtle probes. Just a direct, crushing truth, like a steamroller flattening all the games and mental traps Terumi Mei had prepared.
My rhythm… completely destroyed, she thought. He doesn't follow the script at all.
"I don't know you," she replied with a faint smile, tilting her head innocently.
Logan didn't push the topic. He merely stepped forward, closing the distance between them.
Two meters.
Terumi Mei's breath caught.
Her intelligence briefing had been clear—Logan's strongest attack radius was within two meters. Anyone who entered that space was essentially placing their life in his hands.
Her instinct was to retreat.
But if she did, it would prove she knew who Logan was. That she had been lying.
"I'll ask once more," Logan said quietly. "Do you know me? Are you here to kill me?"
"I don't know what you're talking abou—"
Ola!
Without warning, Star Platinum burst forth, its massive fist swinging straight toward her chest.
Madman! Terumi Mei cursed internally. She wasn't sure what gave her away, but—
"Don't underestimate me!"
She was young—barely in her twenties—but unlike her older self, she had no time for pride or vanity. She reacted on pure instinct.
"Boil Style: Skilled Mist Technique!"
A cloud of crimson mist spewed from her mouth, hissing as it filled the air.
Terumi Mei was one of the rare shinobi with two kekkei genkai: Lava Style and Boil Style, a combination of her water, fire, and earth chakra natures. This technique, in particular, unleashed a mist of boiling acid whose strength and acidity could be controlled at will—like a deadly sulfuric fog.
The mist clashed with Star Platinum's fist. Instantly, the Stand's arm hissed and sizzled. Even Logan winced—his own arm had suffered burns from the attack.
Terumi Mei noticed immediately.
New intel: When the Stand takes damage, so does the user!
The boiling mist surged forward. If Star Platinum wanted to land another hit, it would have to charge through the searing vapor. And that would be suicide.
Terumi Mei hadn't come unprepared. She knew close-quarters combat with Logan was suicidal. Ninjas rarely had the chakra reserves for large-scale, sustained long-range attacks—unless they were Jinchūriki. A single misstep in maintaining distance, and Logan would seize the opening.
Her strategy was simple: deny all approach. If Logan got close, his body would suffer dot damage—continuous pain from exposure to the mist.
She would respond in kind.
After all, if Logan had chosen violence first…
So be it.
The Fourth Mizukage had ordered her to kill Logan. But Terumi Mei never planned to carry out the mission until she understood who he was. She wanted to know what kind of lunatic would publicly expose human trafficking in the Land of Water and kill a member of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen in broad daylight.
That answer mattered more than the Mizukage's orders.
But as she watched Logan stumble back under the corrosive assault, she couldn't help but feel…
Disappointed.
Is that all? Once he's under pressure, he loses the edge.
That's not strength.
Then she heard it.
Hsssss—
A strange, mechanical sound. Rhythmic, like an air compressor.
Star Platinum had turned its back to the mist. It inhaled deeply, its chest swelling like a balloon. Snow whipped through the air, trees rustled, and even Terumi Mei felt the air thinning around her.
What the hell is it doing?
Suddenly, the Stand exhaled.
WHOOOOOOOOOSH!
A hurricane-force gust tore through the trees, producing a thunderous roar. The boiling mist was swept away like smoke, the snow disturbed in whirlwinds across the field.
Terumi Mei's eyes widened.
"What kind of Wind Style is this?!"
No hand signs… could it be a bloodline technique?
She couldn't know that this wasn't any chakra-based jutsu. It was just Star Platinum, unleashing a forceful breath with every ounce of its might.
The battlefield was clear again.
No more acid. No more barriers.
Terumi Mei gritted her teeth and reached for her whip. She was mid-swing when she heard it again.
Ola!
That sound—the soul-chilling battle cry.
Star Platinum's cold, menacing gaze bore down on her. Up close, it was oppressive, crushing.
Its fist descended like a meteor, filling her entire vision.
"Earth Style: Hardening Technique!"
A metallic sheen covered her body just in time. She couldn't summon her own Stand fast enough, so she relied on her earth chakra to tank the blow.
She regretted it instantly.
BOOM!
She was sent flying, crashing through trees—one, two, three, four—before slamming into the snowy ground. Blood spilled from her mouth, but she grit her teeth and stood.
Only for her vision to blur.
He was already there.
Star Platinum stood before her again.
That speed! Didn't the intelligence say its attack range was limited to two meters?!
But then she understood.
Yes, its range was two meters… around Logan.
But Logan himself moved fast. Too fast.
With Ripple Qigong enhancing his body, Logan wasn't bound by normal ninja limits anymore. He and his Stand moved like a single, spinning axis of destruction.
She was too close. She wouldn't be able to block the next hit.
"I surrender!" she shouted quickly. "Let's talk!"
Logan paused.
After a moment of silence, Star Platinum slowly withdrew.
Terumi Mei let out a sigh of relief.
Only to be met with—
Bang! Bang!
Two punches to the face.
Her body hit the snow, dazed. As her vision cleared, she saw purple vines coiling around her limbs—Hermit Purple, binding her like a prisoner.
"You hit me after I surrendered?!" she growled.
Logan looked unimpressed.
"You say 'don't fight,' and I'm just supposed to trust you?"
He gave a firm tug on Hermit Purple, ensuring the binds were tight.
Then he sat down across from her, face calm.
"Now," Logan said evenly, "we can talk."
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