Far away in Alulancia, the bounty had reached the capital.
Citizens gathered in the streets, their voices overlapping as the image of Ryo spread from hand to hand.
"Isn't this the boy who killed the Federation of 99? I knew he shouldn't have been allowed in the military."
"Why did they let him join in the first place?"
"They should've let Team X go instead of Team Z. The only worthwhile person they have out there is Zain Akashi."
Far from the capital, in a quiet village built on the ashes of what was once known as the Federation of 99, a boy named Visav — around Ryo's age — spotted the bounty poster and didn't hesitate.
"Guys! Come look — it's Ryo!" He held it up for the others to see. "He looks exactly the same."
A girl leaned in, frowning. "But why is there a bounty on him?"
Visav shrugged, though his eyes were warm. "Probably because he's out there helping people again. Just like he helped us."
The Federation of 99 had been a name that once made children tremble. Ninety-nine cruel and powerful figures who ran the orphanage like a prison, tormenting every child within its walls for years. Ryo had grown up there alongside all of them — had endured the same suffering, eaten the same scraps, slept in the same cold corners. But one day something in him broke. Or maybe something finally woke up. He killed every single one of them. All 99. And because of that, every child who had suffered under their hands now lived a peaceful, free life.
The same girl tilted her head. "Come to think of it... do you actually remember how he did it? How he killed all of them? Because I can't."
Visav was quiet for a moment. "Not really. All I remember is red energy. Like it was surrounding him from everywhere at once."
Nobody said anything after that. They just stared at the bounty poster — at the face of the boy who had grown up beside them, suffered beside them, and one day decided enough was enough.
The bounty had also reached Sovilia and Bakundar.
In Bakundar, the citizens who had once despised Ryo found themselves standing still, the weight of what he had done for them finally settling in. He was the reason they were free. The late Lurama's mother stood at her window, holding her child against her chest, eyes fixed on the bounty.
"I am sorry for that day, young boy," she whispered. "It is because of you that this child of mine can live a happy life. Please come back one day — so I can apologize properly."
The King of Bakundar saw the bounty and said nothing for a long moment. Then, quietly — "The world has the same misunderstanding we once had. One day, they will understand. Young Red Scarf."
The King of Sovilia saw it. The King of Vilamon saw it. The Queen of Mivarala saw it too. Across the entire Viola Region, the bounty spread like wind. And despite the whispers of doubt circling in Alulancia's capital, the rest of the region would not turn their backs. Not on Ryo. Not on Team Z. They knew who these people were. They knew what they stood for.
Especially the boy with the red scarf.
Currently, Ryo was fighting Manal.
A voice surfaced in the back of his mind — familiar, unhurried.
Hey. You need some help, kid?
Ryo felt the grin before he said anything. "I'll ask when I need it."
Suit yourself.
Manal watched him, something close to respect flickering behind his eyes. "You're holding your own with just Stage 1 Raiki." He paused. "Impressive."
Then, without warning, a memory pulled Manal under.
A faceless figure stood over a younger version of him, a shattered glass bottle still in his hand. A woman's voice — desperate, pleading — "Stop." The man ignored her. He grabbed Manal by the hair and yanked his head up. "Your Raiki is pathetically weak. Your Damik power is even more useless." His grip tightened. "Listen to me. Fear and power — that is how we ninja will rule over Paldea. Understood?"
Young Manal looked up at his father and said quietly, "Yes, Father."
Manal returned to the present.
"I hate people like you," he said. "Must be nice, having strong Raiki."
A thousand belts erupted around Ryo all at once, closing in from every direction. He took a few hits — felt them — but pushed through, dodging most. When he steadied himself, he looked at Manal and asked, simply, "What did I do to you?"
"That masked figure is going to pay," Manal said, almost to himself. "And so will you."
Another memory. This one more recent.
A masked figure — Pola — had come to him not long ago. You are Manal, Head of the Ninja, correct?
And you are?
I fight for Rolencia. I'm from the Reathagon. Pola had held out a bounty. Put this everywhere. This boy must be killed.
And if I don't?
Then this entire nation gets destroyed. No nation — no people for you to rule.
Manal had remembered his father's final words. Fear and power. He had agreed.
Good, Pola had said. You'll also be receiving a visitor from the Samurai side. He agreed to the same terms.
The next day, Kival had arrived. Pure ambition. Pure cruelty. He wanted to enslave people — just like Manal's father had. And yet, every time Manal heard words like power, slave, rule — something inside him resisted. Something that had always been there, quiet and stubborn.
His mother used to say, Be yourself, darling.
She died not long after. His father claimed illness. But they both knew the truth.
Months later, the great war began. His father never came back. The day after, Manal was named Head of Ninja — but he didn't take the title immediately. He wanted to earn it. His Raiki had always been weak, so he had poured everything into his Damik abilities instead, pushing all the way to Stage 4.
He had told himself he was carrying on his father's legacy.
So then why — why — did fighting this boy feel like fighting alongside his mother?
Ryo's fist connected with his face before he could finish the thought.
Manal hit the ground hard. He rolled and dodged the follow-up kick, snapping back to his feet. "Stage 2." A thousand belts surged forward, crashing into Ryo from all sides.
"Why do you fight for people you don't even know?" Manal demanded. "Why do you want to free them?"
Ryo straightened up, unhurried. "Free them?" He almost laughed. "I'm fighting you because I want to keep a promise. My friends are the ones freeing people. I'm here because I want to be. Simple as that."
Manal went still. His eyes widened slowly, like something was shifting behind them.
So that's what it looks like, he thought. A free person.
He laughed — genuinely, softly. "Because you want to. That's funny."
"You want to be free too," Ryo said quietly. "I can see it. Don't bother lying to me."
Manal looked at him for a long moment.
"Save me," he said.
Then he attacked.
"Thank you," he said as he charged, "for showing me that I can change. But I am still a ninja. I have my pride. So you will still have to defeat me." He spread his arms wide. "Stage 4 — Domain."
The entire battlefield transformed. Belts stretched across every inch of space, a massive web of them hanging in the air like a second sky. Ryo stood on nothing, suspended above it all.
He exhaled slowly.
Nurami.
Yeah?
"Stage 3."
You got it.
Ryo pulled. Everything — the air, the energy around him, even the domain itself — drew toward his fist like gravity had been rewritten. Manal drove the belts inward, wrapping them around Ryo, tightening. For a moment, it looked like it might work.
Then Ryo's Raiki flared and he broke through.
He ran across the air, each step deliberate, reading every belt before it arrived, weaving through the storm. Manal threw everything he had. It wasn't enough.
Ryo's fist pulled back one final time.
"Uvola."
The domain shattered.
Manal hit the ground and didn't get up.
"...Thank you," he said softly, face down in the dirt.
Somewhere above the battlefield, Bob's voice cut through every screen, every device, every corner of the world that was watching.
The Head of the Ninja. The strongest ninja in all of Paldea. Face down. Defeated. I repeat — Manal Vinci has just been defeated by the boy on the bounty.
Red Scarf Ryo.