Chapter 56 – Chidori Monster Fist
Watanabe cast a quick glance at the young genin beside him—collapsed, eyes glazed, mind broken from fear. For an instant, he faltered.
Then his gaze shifted to Nan's eyes. Three tomoe spun slowly in those scarlet orbs.
And Watanabe understood.
Genjutsu.
There was no way even a useless teammate could have been frightened senseless by a mere grimace. Only illusion could explain such a reaction.
He tried to dispel it, channeling chakra into the boy's system to break the genjutsu—but nothing worked. The genin remained trapped in that nightmare, thrashing in silence.
Watanabe's expression grew grim. If he himself were to be caught in an illusion of that caliber, it would be disastrous. He would have to avoid Nan's gaze at all costs. The Sharingan's genjutsu was every bit as fearsome as the stories claimed.
Nan didn't mind that his trick had been noticed. He had never intended to ensnare Watanabe in the first place—where was the fun in that? The genin was just insurance, a distraction. His real plan was to test a new move he had only recently conceived.
But there was risk. He didn't yet know how much of a toll it would take on his body. If he collapsed mid-battle, even that frightened genin might find the courage to finish him off. Nan had no desire to waste a Mangekyō trump card just to swat down a minor insect. Best to eliminate Watanabe cleanly in one strike.
First, though, he needed to probe the true capabilities of the defensive puppet Watanabe had yet to reveal.
Lightning surged across Nan's body as he flooded more chakra into his Divine Speed. In an instant, he slipped through the encirclement of three offensive puppets and rushed directly at Watanabe.
To test his foe, Nan weaved hand signs and unleashed a roaring torrent:
Suiton: Water Dragon Bullet!
The dormant puppet finally moved. Its arms opened wide like the ribs of an umbrella, chakra lines linking the frame into a glowing barrier.
Kugutsu Secret Art: Kiko Junbū!
The water dragon crashed against the radiant shield and burst apart, like waves breaking upon a cliff—impressive, but ultimately harmless.
Nan immediately followed up, flicking a shuriken and then rapidly forming new seals.
"Shuriken Shadow Clone Technique!"
The single star split into hundreds mid-air, a storm of blades whistling toward Watanabe and his puppet.
The shield could only cover so much. The puppet was quickly buried under steel, riddled like a hedgehog, its cloth wrappings shredded to tatters.
As the covering fell away, Nan saw its true body: layers of hardened carapace plating, armor upon armor. His volley of blades had barely scratched it. The puppet's defenses were formidable—almost impenetrable.
But not without flaw. The heavy armor made it ponderously slow. A few shuriken slipped past its guard, forcing Watanabe himself to block with his own blade. Clearly, the puppet could only defend from one direction. If Nan circled behind at speed, its protection would be useless.
Meanwhile, Watanabe drove his three offensive puppets back into the fray, pressing his advantage.
Nan leapt clear, narrowly evading their strikes. But his breathing was beginning to grow uneven. Orochimaru's substitution, multiple shadow clones, the Flying Thunder God, ninjutsu after ninjutsu—his chakra was dangerously depleted.
Watanabe saw it too. The boy was flagging.
Now's my chance. When he's down, he dies.
The puppets lunged again, merciless.
Nan poured what little chakra he had left into speed, body flickering from strike to strike. He couldn't keep this up for long, but his eyes betrayed no panic. He still had one card left.
The Yin Seal.
Days of preparation had stored a vast reserve of chakra in the diamond mark upon his forehead. Now, with a thought, he released it.
Power surged through him, filling the emptiness in his body and more. His aura flared, lightning bursting into life stronger than before.
In the next heartbeat, Nan's speed skyrocketed. He tore away from the circling puppets, hands flashing through seals. Two shadow clones appeared at his sides, each immediately preparing a technique in unison.
The battlefield trembled as Nan readied his ultimate strike.
At that very moment, Nan's true body finished forming seals. His killing technique—the one he had been saving to end Watanabe—was ready.
"Suiton: Water Dragon Bullet!"
"Katon: Fire Dragon Bullet!"
His two shadow clones roared in unison. Twin dragons—one of flame, one of water—hurtled toward Watanabe.
The puppet master sneered, unshaken. With a tug of his chakra threads, he pulled the defensive puppet in front of him once more. Its arms spread, chakra beams weaving into a barrier.
Kugutsu Secret Art: Kiko Junbū.
The twin dragons slammed into the shield. As expected, their combined force failed to breach it. But that had never been Nan's true aim.
The clash of water and fire erupted into a rolling cloud of steam, a blinding white veil that swallowed the battlefield.
Watanabe's eyes narrowed. He knew this was deliberate. His every nerve braced for the inevitable ambush.
And then—
Chirp. Chirp. Chirp.
A piercing cry split the air, like a thousand birds screaming at once.
Watanabe spun around. Nan was already upon him, hand wreathed in blinding lightning, the Chidori shrieking with lethal intent.
Panic clenched his chest. He didn't know what this technique was, but Nan had been preparing it all along. To be struck meant certain death.
Desperate, Watanabe lunged toward his defensive puppet. But Nan's speed was overwhelming; he would never reach it in time.
In one last gamble, Watanabe formed a seal and yanked his chakra threads. The armored puppet suddenly shed its heavy carapace, plates clattering to the ground before rearranging into a massive shield in front of him.
Exactly what Nan had wanted.
The boy's eyes gleamed. A killing move meant nothing without resistance to crush. He clenched his fist tighter, lightning screaming louder, and bellowed the name of his new technique:
"Raiton—Chidori Monster Fist!"
His strike connected.
The supposedly indestructible shield fractured instantly, spiderweb cracks racing across its surface. Watanabe barely had time to register his terror before the lightning tore straight through.
The shield shattered. Nan's fist slammed into Watanabe's chest. The crackling Chidori pierced through flesh and heart alike, thunderbolts ripping his body apart from the inside.
Watanabe's scream was drowned out by the roar of a thousand birds. His body crumpled, lightning still dancing across it.
Nan lowered his fist, the steam clearing around him, victory blazing in his crimson eyes.