Of course, Guy knew exactly what opening the Eight Inner Gates Formation meant — it was the end of one's life, the collapse of the body itself. But at this moment, faced with such overwhelming enemies, they had no other choice.
He clenched his teeth, forcing his trembling voice to sound calm and steady.
"Father… don't…"
But his words caught in his throat, choked by an invisible weight. Tears shimmered in his eyes as he looked at his father. His heart was torn between grief and helplessness. He wanted to beg him not to interfere — yet he couldn't bring himself to say it.
Because this was his father's ninja way.
The so-called "Self-Restraint" didn't just mean refraining from abusing the Eight Gates' power. More importantly, it meant that no matter the hardship or despair one faced, one must always meet it with unwavering will and a positive heart.
"How dull," a mocking voice interrupted. "You're all going to die here anyway. Save your last words for your trip down the road to Yomi."
The man with bandages over his head, a single eyepatch, and a mask covering the rest of his face — Jinpachi — strode forward, resting Shibuki on his shoulder.
The other members of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist didn't move. To them, the Konoha genin before them weren't even worth lifting a finger against.
Whish—!
A sharp sound split the air. A strange, triple-pronged kunai flew at Jinpachi with incredible speed.
He noticed the attack immediately, twisting his body slightly to let the weapon glide past his side.
"Pathetic trick" he thought, almost bored.
But just as the kunai brushed past him, a figure appeared right beside it — moving faster than thought.
Mitsuki.
Catching the kunai's handle in his left hand, he drove a fully charged Rasengan into Jinpachi's chest with his right.
The force of the impact sent Jinpachi crashing into the ground like a meteor. The explosion of chakra tore through the earth, sending shards of rock flying in all directions and leaving a crater nearly a meter wide.
When the dust settled, Jinpachi lay flat on his back, staring up at the sky. A massive, swirling wound had opened in his chest — as if his body had been ripped apart from the inside. Blood gushed freely, soaking the ground beneath him.
The sudden, brutal strike stunned everyone. The entire clearing fell silent.
All eyes were fixed on Jinpachi's broken form, filled with disbelief and confusion.
Even Guy and his teammates stood frozen, unable to process how the situation had flipped in the blink of an eye.
"What!?" Kushimaru shouted in shock. Just a moment ago, his long-time partner had been standing tall, and now he was lying motionless in the dirt. He didn't care about Jinpachi's life or death — but the speed of that attack had left him rattled.
Fuguki's face darkened.
"Check the surroundings. There may be more Konoha shinobi hiding nearby."
But Mitsuki didn't follow up with another attack. He stood tall and composed, eyes cold and sharp.
He pressed his foot down mercilessly on Jinpachi's bleeding forehead — his back turned to Guy and the others.
His calm voice broke the silence.
"That's enough, Uncle Duy. The situation isn't dangerous enough to make you break your Self-Restraint."
"...Mitsuki!" Guy cried out, both shocked and relieved.
But the joy quickly faded. No matter how talented Mitsuki was, even he couldn't possibly face the Seven Ninja Swordsmen alone.
Sure, he'd taken one out with a surprise attack — but in a fair fight, he'd be outnumbered and overwhelmed.
Might Duy thought the same. He knew how powerful Mitsuki was — the "Number One Genius of Konoha" the hero who had ended the war on the River Country front.
But no matter how gifted, Mitsuki was still just a child — the same age as his son.
"Mitsuki" Duy said sternly, "I'm not joking. You can't handle them right now. Take Guy and the others and run. I'll hold them off with everything I've got."
Mitsuki sighed lightly.
"I'm not joking either."
Thud!
He pressed harder with his foot — crushing Jinpachi's head into the dirt, ending him completely.
Then he looked up, his tone calm yet absolute.
"Besides, Uncle Duy, you're wrong about one thing. When facing a few little rats… there's no need for anyone to run."
"Hmph! Arrogant brat!"
Fuguki's demonic face twisted into a cruel grin.
"None of you are getting away. Especially you — the brat with that fat tanuki beast on your shoulder. You must be the Konoha's Gale, Shimizu Mitsuki, the number one target on our kill list."
He hadn't expected their primary mission objective to come to them this quickly. Fortune was on their side — or so he thought.
Shukaku, perched on Mitsuki's shoulder, turned red with rage.
"You damned Mist ninja! How dare you call Lord Shukaku a fat tanuki!?"
Mitsuki smirked.
"Huh, I've noticed something — all Kirigakure shinobi are ugly as hell, yet they always talk about beauty."
Normally, Mitsuki wasn't the type to taunt his enemies, but ever since coming to the Mist front, he'd developed the habit — one he admitted wasn't great, since it made him sound petty.
Still, right now, he didn't mind. He had already set up his traps before revealing himself.
Today, not a single one of them would return to Kirigakure alive.
"Shimizu Mitsuki!!!"
A furious roar tore through the air. Mitsuki turned his gaze toward the sound.
It came from Mangetsu, the youngest of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen — his eyes bloodshot, his voice shaking with hatred.
To him, Mitsuki wasn't just an enemy.
He was the enemy.
And to Mitsuki, Mangetsu was the same — a grudge born of blood.