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Naruto Clay Death Soldiers
Razor had not read the problem through Nen.
He was a game administrator. The people behind Ronin did not register as players. The quest still required fifteen bodies to open, which left one explanation. The party had started at fifteen. Only four of them had walked into the fortress as themselves. The other eleven were constructs made of aura.
He knew that kind of work. His own Hatsu built multiple Nen beasts the same way.
Ronin caught the flicker across Razor's face and filed it.
The pirate who had led them in explained why they had come. Razor showed no surprise and did not call the clones what they were.
"Fine. A match. Fifteen on fifteen. First to eight wins."
He laid out the rest without raising his voice. His side would choose the events. If Ronin's group took the set, the pirates would leave the city.
Neon put her hand up like a student.
"Question."
"Go ahead." Razor was polite in a way that did not belong on a pirate.
"What happens if we lose?"
"Nothing special. You leave." The squint stayed friendly. "Well? In or out?"
"No." Ronin stepped forward. "King versus king. You and me."
Razor's brow ticked.
"You want a duel."
"Yes."
"I refuse." He smiled. The format existed to test the copies. A solo fight only unlocked after seven wins, and even then the offer would be the whole side against him at once. With this one's strength, that dodgeball game would actually be fun.
He started loosening his shoulders. He did not believe Ronin would walk away.
"What a pain," Ronin said, and waited.
The matches started. They meant nothing. Shadow clones against ordinary pirates was a stomp. The pirates knew Nen. The clones knew ninjutsu.
Boxing. Sprints. Lifting.
The score hit seven before Ronin moved. He watched Razor the whole time, openly impatient.
"Your turn?"
Razor had finished warming up. He also understood the point now. This visit had always been about him.
He still did not know how they knew each other. Ten years inside the game and someone had still found the lighthouse. The old rumors had apparently survived his retirement. Interesting.
"Next event. Eight-on-eight dodgeball."
Aura poured off him. Seven players built themselves at his side, each marked with a number.
"What a cheap tactic," Neon muttered.
She had already seen the shape. It did not matter how many events they won. The last one was always Razor. Fail that and the rest of the card was blank.
"Beat me and it counts as eight straight." Razor's smile did not change. "Fair enough, right? You in?"
"Obviously." Ronin looked back at the three behind him. "You coming?"
Neon and Abachi shook their heads together. They had felt the size of Razor's aura up close. The warm-up had not been for show. Ronin's excitement was just as obvious. Cheerleading was the smarter job. The match could stay with him and the clones.
Ronin's eyes settled on Shizuku.
"I'm out too," she said after a second. "You two using the same kind of move is more interesting than me getting in the way."
The dodgeball itself appealed to her. Razor looked like a clean test stone, and her training had hit a wall. A real opponent might crack it. She was not in a hurry. Watching first would widen the picture. She could ask him for a spar after Ronin was done.
Ronin did not push.
He also did not use the clones that had walked in with him.
Both hands formed the cross seal. Seven new shadow clones burst into place.
Razor had already guessed most of the first group were copies. He would not have guessed those copies had been sealed in scrolls ahead of time, carrying chakra that had not come out of Ronin today. Using them would have been stealing the exchange. Fresh clones meant splitting himself.
He did not split evenly. A pure ninja would have had trouble with that. He was not one. Leave part of the aura as Nen, and the chakra each clone received could be set by hand.
Ten thousand each.
A little over fifty thousand stayed with him. That was enough.
Razor revised his first read on the spot. Emitter—maybe. The personality leaned Enhancer. Clone versus clone was new. The novelty landed in his chest like a good drink.
The rules were simple.
Inner court and outer court. A player hit by an opponent's ball left the inner court. If the whole side ended up outside, the game was over. Anyone in the outer court could shout "Back" and return for a window.
Contact used the rebound rule. If Razor's ball struck opponent A, bounced to opponent B, and then hit the ground, A and B were both out. If B caught it, A was clean. If the rebound hit Razor's own teammate C and dropped, C was the one who left. If C caught it, A went out.