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"Th-This… This thing! It's a monster! A monster wearing human skin!"
Behind their masks were faces drained of all color.
For the first time, they were truly afraid.
"Heh. Go on—despair, you little worms. My turn now."
Akira grinned, savage and wide, his eyes gleaming with bloodlust.
Boom!
A muffled explosion rang out as the bottom of the crater caved in. In the blink of an eye, Akira was gone.
"AHHH!!"
A shriek tore through the air—just as Akira's kick split a Root ninja clean in half.
"AAAAAAAH—!"
Then he plunged into the crowd.
It was slaughter. Pure, unfiltered slaughter.
Like a tiger thrown into a flock of sheep, he tore through them. Their bodies were as fragile as foam—shatter on contact, dead at a touch. Not a single one could survive even one of his blows.
This wasn't a battle.
It was a massacre.
Every punch. Every kick. Another life snuffed out.
"HAHAHAHA!"
Bathed in a rain of blood, Akira threw his head back and laughed.
He was enjoying it.
There was something feral inside him—something that craved the warmth of blood splashing across his skin.
He could've activated Susanoo and crushed them all in one sweep. End it instantly.
But he didn't.
If he had to guess, the serum running through his body was partly to blame. It pushed him toward something more primal. More direct.
And honestly?
He didn't mind.
Fist against flesh—that was the romance of a real fight.
"Damn you! I'll take you with me!"
A Root ninja charged, eyes bloodshot, face twisted with rage, twin blades flashing in his hands.
Clang! Clang!
The swords struck Akira's shoulders—and bounced off with two sharp metallic rings.
"Nice spirit," Akira said mildly. "Shame it won't save you."
He placed both hands on the man's shoulders, smiled—a predator's smile—and pulled.
Rip.
The body split in two. Blood sprayed everywhere, drenching him head to toe.
He didn't even pause.
Spinning around, his massive palm slammed downward.
Crack—crack—crack!
The would-be ambusher behind him had his spine shattered vertebra by vertebra. His head tore through his own torso and rolled grotesquely across the ground.
Brutal.
Unbelievably brutal.
The rest of them felt it now—that creeping, suffocating despair.
How do you fight something you can't even injure?
"Damn it! That thing's not human! We can't beat it—RUN!"
After watching more than a dozen comrades torn apart, someone finally broke.
He turned and fled.
And once one ran, the rest followed—scattering in every direction.
They'd rather suffer the agony of the Cursed Tongue Eradication Seal activating than face this unkillable nightmare.
And truth be told?
Their fearless leader had already slipped away first.
To hell with dying for him.
"Oh? You think you can escape?"
Akira spotted Danzo fleeing in the distance and curled his lips into a cold smile.
Boom!
He pushed off the ground, leaving another crater behind.
Whoosh!
He shot forward like a cannonball, ignoring the fleeing Root agents and zeroing in on Danzo.
Rocks. Walls. Buildings.
Anything in his path was smashed into rubble as he barreled through.
The gap between them shrank fast.
In just a few breaths, he was right behind him.
Akira swung his thick, muscle-bound leg in a vicious sweep. The air howled, nearly bursting under the force.
The kick—packed with overwhelming strength—aimed straight for Danzo's legs.
Simple plan.
Break his legs first.
Then have some fun.
Boom!
The attack connected—
—and Danzo exploded into a puff of smoke.
"A shadow clone. Again? This jutsu's seriously getting annoying."
Akira clicked his tongue and ran a hand through his hair.
Then—
Whoosh!
A sharp whistle cut through the air behind him.
Danzo appeared, wind-style chakra spiraling violently around his kunai as he thrust it straight toward Akira's back.
Thud!
The blade struck.
And barely managed to nick his skin.
"Oh? Not bad," Akira said, glancing over his shoulder. "Your Wind Style's still got some bite, old man. You actually broke the skin."
His tone carried genuine praise.
"Y-You… what kind of monster are you?"
Danzo stared in disbelief at the broken halves of his kunai.
The weapon had been reinforced with high-density wind chakra. It could slice through even the tough hide of a tailed beast.
And yet—
It only scratched him.
Akira didn't bother answering.
He backhanded him.
Bang!
Smoke.
Another clone.
"Are you kidding me? More shadow clones? This is getting ridiculous."
His patience was thinning. Every time he thought he'd caught the real one, it turned out to be fake.
Then he smirked.
"Fine. Let's see how many clones you can really make, old man."
"You're not Naruto. I doubt you've got infinite chakra."
"And besides… you're not the only one who knows this trick."
Akira formed a cross-shaped hand seal.
"Ninja Art: Shadow Clone Jutsu."
Pop! Pop! Pop!
More than a dozen plumes of smoke burst into existence.
When it cleared, over a dozen towering, muscle-bound Akira's stood there.
No orders needed.
They scattered in different directions, hunting.
…
Pop. Pop. Pop.
One after another, Danzo's shadow clones were destroyed.
After crushing more than ten of them, Akira finally locked eyes on the last remaining Danzo.
"There you are. Found the real you. Let's see where you run now."
With a cold grin, he vanished from sight.
Meanwhile, Danzo—sprinting at full speed—felt the moment his clones were eliminated.
He glanced back at the rapidly closing Akira, his face dark as a storm cloud.
Damn it. How is he this fast?
His mind raced.
The plan had been to regroup with Hiruzen. With the other elite shinobi there, dealing with a brute who relied purely on raw strength shouldn't have been difficult.
But at this rate—
He wouldn't even make it.
He needed something.
Anything.
Just a little more time.
"..."
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