Judgment
"Huh? What is this…?"
The enemy froze, staring in shock at the skeletal constructs that had appeared around him.
Shirō didn't waste the opening. With his free hand, he projected Mojie and slashed upward in a flash of steel.
Shhk!
The man twisted aside at the last instant, but the blade still tore a deep gash across his chest.
"Tch… not bad, kid. You've got some skill, but—damn it!" His words cut short as Shirō charged again without hesitation.
In his previous life, Shirō had read enough novels to know the golden rule of combat: never waste time talking. Lose focus, and you die. Whatever needed saying could be said after the opponent was gone.
Besides, Shirō had noticed the man's hand slipping toward a hidden syringe. He didn't know what the substance was—poison? a stimulant?—but he knew enough: it couldn't be good.
His blades rained down in relentless succession, each strike fueled by Reinforcement and his sheer refusal to give the enemy room to breathe. The man had been weaker to begin with; now, wounded and cornered, he was being carved apart.
Their kind only dared to oppose shinobi of the Great Nations because of those experimental drugs. Without them, they were nothing.
Finally, when the man faltered, Shirō crossed his twin blades and cut him down in a single decisive stroke.
When he turned to assist the others, he stopped in surprise. Tai Yi and Yue had already cleared their side with the help of the Dragon Tooth Soldiers.
Shirō frowned, then realized what had happened: the same method as always. Yue's Genjutsu, a slit throat while the enemy was dazed, and it was over. Against those unprepared for illusions, it was near impossible to resist.
Their enemies had recognized the Sharingan, but not Yue's peculiar uniform or techniques. That ignorance had sealed their fate.
No time was wasted on cleanup. Shirō let the Dragon Tooth Soldiers roam free, their skeletal forms stalking the tunnels and slaughtering any stragglers. Here, almost everyone was an enemy anyway.
---
After advancing some distance, Shirō groaned in irritation when more figures appeared ahead.
"Is there no end to this?!" he snapped.
"Wait, Shirō-kun." Toyota's eyes narrowed. "Their chakra feels similar to the Jonin-level one from before… but weaker."
"That monster with Jonin reserves?" Yue asked.
"Yes. These are the same, but their chakra isn't nearly as strong."
"They won't go down easily, though." Tai Yi stepped forward, watching their sluggish movements. "Their vitality is monstrous. The question is whether their defenses are the same." He flicked a kunai forward—only to watch it sink into one creature's torso and stick halfway.
"…Troublesome."
Looking at their tattered clothes, which matched the corpses in the pit earlier, Tai Yi's expression darkened. "Modified villagers. So that's what they did…"
"Then I'll release them." Shirō's tone was cold.
"How? They only die when completely torn apart." Yue asked.
"Turning them to ash works too."
With a flick of his wrist, six projected Noble Phantasms embedded themselves among the creatures.
"Tai Yi."
"Understood. Earth Release: Earth Flow Wall!"
Four walls of stone rose around the monsters, sealing them inside.
"Let's move."
The team bypassed the trapped abominations. Moments later—
BOOM!
The explosion echoed behind them. None of them flinched. By now, they had seen too much filth to feel pity. Their silence on the march carried the weight of unspoken fury.
---
Elsewhere, Nakamura entered the conference hall. Only Kawase remained, carving a line across his forehead protector.
"So, defecting, are we? A rogue ninja?" Nakamura's voice was flat.
Kawase sneered, raising his kunai. Before he could strike, another blade came from the side. He blocked on reflex—only to realize the Nakamura in front of him hadn't moved.
"What—?!"
The "clone" had formed seals. "Wind Release: Wind Cutter Technique!"
The slicing gale tore into Kawase. He barely hardened his body with chakra in time, yet still staggered back, blood spilling down his side.
"What?! That was a Shadow Clone—"
"Never fought Konoha shinobi before, have you?" Nakamura's smile was thin. Only Konoha had perfected the Shadow Clone into practical combat use.
"You—"
Thud! Nakamura's palm smashed into his chest, knocking him unconscious. This man wasn't worth the time.
Methodically, Nakamura subdued the others in the chamber, gagging them and binding their limbs. Even the elder who had spoken earlier was tied down. He flipped through their documents, calm and efficient, waiting for Shirō's squad.
When the group finally arrived, they found him surrounded by captives, paperwork spread across the table.
One of the bound men glared at him furiously. Kawase.
Though Shirō imagined the man's eyes burning with hatred, in truth, Kawase was only drowning in frustration. He had underestimated the gulf between himself and shinobi of the Great Nations. Shadow Clones were his downfall—he had mistaken them for simple clones.
It was an old Konoha trick, disguising Shadow Clones as regular ones. Most villages had learned to watch for it by now. That Kawase fell for it only showed his inexperience.
Nakamura looked up. "You saw everything?"
"Yes," Shirō replied.
"Then… what do you intend to do?"
"Can we kill them?"
"Just like that? A clean death?" Nakamura asked.
"Would the Hot Water shinobi kill them?" Shirō countered coldly.
"…No."
"Then that's settled. They'll die—painfully."
Nakamura studied Shirō's hardened face, wondering if it had been too early to expose him to such darkness. But suppressing his rage would be worse. Better to let him release it.
"These materials are enough for the mission," Nakamura said at last.
Shirō swallowed two soldier pills, letting his chakra recover, then summoned a weapon into his grip. A demonic spear shimmered in his hand.
"Come on," he said, voice low. "Let me see the weight of your sins."