"Ola Ola Ola Ola!"
With Star Platinum's blinding speed and inhuman precision, not a single blade reached Logan. Every knife hurled at him was shattered midair, torn apart like paper by a flurry of punches.
The shattered blades ricocheted into the surrounding cultists, impaling them and killing them on the spot.
But the sinister power of the evil god, infused into each weapon, had already done its damage.
Black spots began to bloom on Logan's skin like bruises.
He took a deep breath, channeling Ripple energy into his body and fusing it with the natural energy around him. With a sickening crackle, necrotic skin and dead tissue sloughed off, and High-Speed Regeneration kicked in.
"This isn't sustainable," Logan muttered.
The enemy had formation arrays, worshippers, and the power of an evil god backing them. If this dragged into a battle of attrition, Logan knew he'd be worn down by the white-haired leader before long.
He glanced over his shoulder and patted it lightly.
Tsunade saw the signal and nodded. Like a seasoned pitcher, she hurled something straight at him.
Logan caught it smoothly and placed it on his shoulder.
"I've got a plan," he said, his voice carried to Tsunade and Kakashi by Katsuyu's telepathy.
Tsunade smashed a cultist aside and asked, "You figured out a way to kill the leader?"
"No," Logan replied. "I've tried everything. As long as he's within the formation and surrounded by his followers, he can't die. And now, with how powerful the cultists have become, if we wipe out everyone in the village except him—"
"He'll become an immortal evil god," Tsunade finished grimly.
Star Platinum crushed another blade, then launched a kick that sent the white-haired leader flying. Logan continued:
"I dug into the memories of the left-hand protector. Each evil god ritual is linked to a specific formation, and each formation has a designated operator."
"The formation covering this entire village is massive—but it's one they frequently use."
Kakashi caught on. "You're saying the white-haired leader is the formation's controller?"
"Yes," Logan confirmed.
"But that just brings us back to the same problem," Kakashi said. "We can't kill him while the formation is active, and we can't deactivate the formation without killing him."
"A paradox."
"I'm not going to kill him," Logan said. "I'm going to cut off his connection to the formation."
Tsunade blinked. "And how exactly do you plan on doing that?"
Purple vines burst forth from Hermit Purple, wrapping around Logan's arms.
Despite being considered the "most useless" Stand, Hermit Purple could read and transmit information by tracing the causal relationships between things. It was, in essence, a conduit of cause and effect.
Logan manipulated Hermit Purple to fully encase a piece of the white-haired cultist's flesh in a sphere. This flesh, like countless others scattered across the ritual site, was a direct node in the formation.
But inside the sphere—shielded by Hermit Purple—the flesh was inert. It did not writhe, did not pulse, did not respond to the evil god's whispers.
A perfect insulation.
The theory was solid. The simulation worked.
Now it was time to test it in practice.
Logan's eyes locked onto the white-haired leader.
Time to see if this dinner knife can perform heart surgery.
With a flash, he dashed forward and pointed.
"Hermit Purple!"
Purple vines unfurled and wrapped tightly around the white-haired leader, layer after layer.
The leader flinched.
He could feel it—his link to the formation was weakening.
Without hesitation, he screamed, "Save me!"
His followers surged toward Logan like a wave.
Logan extended his finger again.
"Star Platinum: The World!"
Time froze.
Star Platinum drew in a breath and clenched both fists at his waist.
"Ola Ola Ola Ola!"
Two seconds passed in a flash.
Time resumed.
The white-haired leader's body was torn and bloody from countless blows.
But he still wasn't dead.
Logan realized something critical: activating The World disrupted the Hermit Purple's shielding, momentarily exposing the leader to the formation again.
If Star Platinum had landed the final blow during that window, the leader could have transferred his essence into another cultist instantly.
Hermit Purple wasn't made for containment. Using it this way was like cutting diamonds with a spoon.
"I can't stop time again," Logan muttered. "Not unless someone else can cover me."
He called out, "Kakashi! Tsunade!"
No response.
Logan turned.
Both of them were on their knees, clutching their chests, gasping for air.
What happened?
Logan felt a tickle in his nose—then in his lungs. His heartbeat stuttered.
Ripple energy surged involuntarily inside him.
He froze.
Miniscule fragments of cultist flesh, thinner than cat hairs, floated in the air like dust—and had been inhaled.
Those fragments traveled through the bloodstream and clogged the arteries of Logan, Tsunade, and Kakashi.
It wasn't an injury.
It was coronary artery disease—angina, myocardial infarction. Not something Tsunade or Katsuyu could heal on the battlefield.
Logan forced a portion of Ripple energy inward, using it to burn and disintegrate the microscopic clots.
Behind him, Star Platinum held the cultists at bay with relentless punches. But they came without fear, sacrificing themselves to buy time.
Logan couldn't keep this up. He needed both hands free.
If this dragged on, Kakashi and Tsunade would die. The cultists would continue to fall. And the white-haired leader would grow stronger—until Hermit Purple could no longer hold him.
The white-haired leader calmly pushed aside a few vines and met Logan's gaze.
"I understand your hatred," he said softly. "You think we're just murderers. But tell me—what's the point of living in this world?"
He spoke gently, almost kindly.
"Endless labor. Rejection. Hopelessness. Misplaced sincerity. Suffering is the plotline of life. Sure, beauty exists—but it's fleeting. The rest is pain."
The whispers of the evil god slithered into Logan's ears. He looked up.
The dark sky parted, revealing a monstrous being whose divine glow spanned a thousand feet. Its form radiated benevolence. Peace. Sleep.
"Why do you think we're called a cult of the Evil God?" the leader asked. "Because from your warped world, we look evil. Just like how the sky seems tilted when you look from a sinking boat."
"But if you look from the right angle—"
Logan stared up at the beautiful illusion.
And raised both middle fingers.
"Uploading my soul to your 'divine server'? What kind of low-budget sci-fi scam is that?"
"You refuse peace?"
Logan's fist slammed into the leader's eye.
"Fk you."
Each punch that followed was heavier than the last.
The white-haired leader laughed. "You're strong, Logan. But you can't kill me. I'll break free before Hermit Purple can finish the job."
"I can't kill you alone."
Star Platinum turned and faced the leader. Logan clenched his fists.
"But I've never fought alone."
Boom!
Tsunade kicked a dozen cultists aside, blood still running down her shirt. A few survivors lunged at Logan, only for Kakashi to intercept—his Raikiri slicing their throats midair.
The white-haired leader paled.
"How are you… still moving?!"
He saw the blood gushing from their chests. It clicked.
Healing ninjutsu couldn't restore arteries blocked by microscopic flesh.
So they had shattered their own blood vessels—resetting the flow—and forced their bodies to adapt.
The leader was stunned.
And then—he felt it.
The gaze of Logan and Star Platinum.
His soul trembled.
"Loga—"
He never finished.
"Ola Ola Ola Ola!"
"Ola Ola Ola Ola!"
"Ola Ola Ola Ola!"
Heavy blows rained down, blood bursting through the seams of Hermit Purple's vines.
Logan and Star Platinum pummeled the white-haired leader from ground to sky, until they slammed him into the shimmering barrier encasing the village.
Crack—
A fracture split across the sky.
A single ray of sunlight pierced through.
Wherever the beam touched, a faint image shimmered—ghostly faces of the innocents slain by the cult.
Logan slowly drew back his right fist. Star Platinum did the same.
"When you go to hell, don't forget—"
"I am the one who will punish you."
The final punch landed.
The white-haired leader saw it coming.
Then the world dimmed.
It grayed, then dissolved into lines, and finally—
Nothingness.
Bang!
The barrier shattered.
The white-haired leader crashed to the ground like a comet.
Lifeless.
> "You have slain the Cult Leader. 1444 Soul Fragments obtained."
The evil god's formation shattered like broken glass.
Sunlight poured in.
Without the leader's connection, the cultists died where they stood.
Logan landed.
Kakashi and Tsunade collapsed in the dirt, too exhausted to care.
"It's finally over," Kakashi sighed.
They looked at one another, bloodied, bruised, and beaten—but alive. And they laughed.
Logan walked over and helped them up.
And just then—
"Aaaaaahhhhh!!!"
An old farmer, riding a donkey cart, stumbled upon the scene.
Seeing three blood-soaked figures standing amid dozens of corpses, he screamed and slapped his donkey's rear.
The man and the donkey vanished in a flash.
Logan raised a hand, intending to explain—but the farmer spanked the donkey harder and disappeared.
He sighed.
---
The old farmer finally slowed after a long, frantic ride.
He breathed out.
Then he heard soft sobbing nearby.
Curious, he dismounted and followed the sound.
Ahead, a handsome young man knelt in the grass, clutching a letter—and weeping bitterly.
The old farmer stepped closer.
"...
Ãdvåñçé 60 çhàptêr àvàilàble óñ pàtreøn (Gk31)