Chapter 25 — The Demon
On the second day after Gato's death, two unfamiliar figures arrived in the Land of Waves.
"Lord Zabuza, we've arrived. I hope we can avoid those people's pursuit this time," the shorter youth spoke first.
However, once he lifted his head, it became apparent that his features were exquisitely delicate. If he were dressed in women's clothing, it would be difficult to tell his gender at a glance.
"Haku, don't say such weak and useless things," the tall man replied, lowering the brim of his straw hat, clearly displeased.
"I'm sorry, Lord Zabuza."
"Let's go. We're meeting this time's employer."
The two followed the agreed-upon markings and arrived at the designated contact location.
But the residence was already deserted.
After a brief inspection, it was clear that whoever had lived there had left in great haste—yet not without first scraping together anything of value they could carry.
"Lord Zabuza… something's wrong," Haku said quietly.
"Mm."
Zabuza merely responded with a single sound, his expression cold and indifferent.
After spending so much time together, Haku immediately understood—Lord Zabuza was in a bad mood.
"I've obtained part of the employer's information," Haku said quickly. "I can gather more intelligence first, and then we can decide what to do."
Zabuza didn't want Haku to waste effort, so he nodded in agreement.
In a small country like this, there was practically no force capable of threatening either of them. Zabuza felt completely at ease letting Haku investigate alone.
Haku did not disappoint him.
Before long, he returned with clear information.
"Lord Zabuza, it looks like this trip really was for nothing. The employer who hired us for the assassination was killed yesterday, and his entire faction has already collapsed."
Haku helplessly relayed everything he had learned, including the conflict between the Gato Corporation and the Oshima family.
As for who exactly killed Gato, opinions varied.
But one thing was certain—the person who carried it out had to be a powerful expert hired by the Oshima family.
Zabuza never expected they would arrive too late.
With the employer dead and the backing force in ruins, the assassination contract was naturally void.
Otherwise, they'd be working for nothing—killing someone with no one left to pay the reward.
"Damn it," Zabuza cursed under his breath.
"Lord Zabuza, should we stay in this country for a while, or leave for somewhere else?" Haku asked.
There was no trace of disappointment on his face.
To him, where they went didn't matter. What they did didn't matter.
As long as he could stay by Lord Zabuza's side, that was enough—even if it meant being nothing more than a disposable tool that could be abandoned at any time.
"We're leaving," Zabuza said coldly. "But before that… I'm killing a few people."
His eyes instantly turned dangerous, brimming with bloodlust.
There was no deeper reason.
Just like during the ninja graduation exam years ago, when he had slaughtered every student of that class on a whim.
If he wanted to do it, then he did it.
Cruel?
Hot-tempered?
Arrogant?
Cold-blooded?
He didn't care about any of the labels his enemies placed on him.
Because that was exactly the kind of person he was.
Even Shinji and Hidan would never have imagined that, for such a reason, they would be dragged back into the chaos once again.
...
Inside a warehouse belonging to the Oshima family, countless people were busy at work.
Although Shinji and Hidan had both refused the money and women offered to them, Oshima was not offended in the slightest.
On the contrary, he praised them highly and even increased the supplies originally allocated to the Jashin Cult by thirty percent as a show of sincerity.
This time, Shinji did not refuse.
He had no right to refuse anyway—these resources were meant for the Jashin Cult, not for currying favor with him personally.
Once everything was successfully loaded onto the ship, the bustle finally eased.
After disembarking, professionals would handle transportation, but security would be entirely up to Shinji and Hidan.
Both sides were confident—neither believed anything would go wrong.
"Are you really not staying a couple more days?" Oshima asked sincerely. "The Land of Waves may be small, but it has everything one could want. If you say the word, I can arrange anything."
Hidan's eyes immediately lit up.
He was just about to ask for a thousand sacrifices to send off to Lord Jashin—
But the instant he opened his mouth, Shinji drove an elbow straight into his ribs.
"Ugh—!"
"Uh… what's wrong with him?" Oshima asked, confused.
"Nothing," Shinji replied calmly. "He was born with the fate of poverty. Probably never ate food as good as last night's, so his stomach couldn't handle it."
Hidan bent over clutching his gut, his gaze murderous enough to kill.
"We'll be taking our leave now," Shinji said.
He grabbed Hidan and turned to go.
At that moment—
Over a dozen senbon suddenly shot out from the distance, all aimed straight at Oshima!
Caught off guard, Shinji instinctively hurled what he was holding—Hidan—forward.
Oshima could not die.
At least, not before they returned to the Jashin Cult!
Swish! Swish! Swish—
Thud! Thud! Thud!!!
"Akagi Shinji! What the hell are you doing?!"
Hidan had no idea what was happening before his back and rear were riddled with needles, pain forcing a scream from his throat.
Shinji felt a bit awkward.
What he'd just done really was a little heartless.
But there was no helping it—the timing had been perfect.
And the outcome was good, wasn't it?
"An assassination attempt! Protect the family head!"
A group of bodyguards panicked and crowded around Oshima, trapping him in place—probably afraid the employer might die suddenly otherwise.
Shinji knew that if the attacker wasn't dealt with, the mission wouldn't truly be complete.
"Get inside and hide. Don't come out and cause trouble," he said.
"Hidan, protect him."
Then he dashed off in the direction the attacker had fled.
After a few leaps, Shinji's figure vanished from sight.
Just as everyone finally began to relax and escort Oshima away—
Fog suddenly rolled in.
The obstructive straw hat was casually tossed aside.
A massive executioner's blade, over two meters long, was drawn from the back of a tall man.
He took a deep breath.
He smelled it.
The scent of slaughter.
The next instant, he vanished like a ghost.
When he reappeared, three heads had already fallen from their bodies.
Yet neither the victims nor those standing beside them ever heard the sound of his movement.
No pain.
Only silent death.
Perhaps that was the final "mercy" of the man known as the Demon.
In barely over ten seconds since the fog had risen, Oshima's guards began dying one after another.
A thick stench of blood spread through the air.
Unable to endure the torment of waiting for death, someone screamed and charged blindly in one direction—
And then, abruptly, the sound stopped.