Chapter 381: Konan, You Don't Want Nagato to Get Hurt, Do You?
"Let her go!"
Nagato's voice tore through his throat, raw and desperate. His sunken eyes were bloodshot, practically bulging from their sockets with impotent rage. He strained against the confines of his mechanical wheelchair, desperately attempting to force his depleted chakra pathways to ignite. His emaciated body refused to obey. The violent exertion only triggered a brutal coughing fit, forcing a thick, dark mouthful of blood past his lips to splatter against the cold stone floor.
"Akira... Uchiha Akira!" Nagato wheezed, his chest heaving as he fought for breath. "Come at me! Let Konan go!"
Uchiha Akira did not even spare the crippled leader a glance.
His grip on Konan remained unyielding as he pulled her flush against his chest. The proximity was suffocating. Akira looked down, his gaze sweeping over her pale features, noting the frantic flutter of her eyelashes and the faint, rain-washed scent that clung to her skin.
"What a beautiful face," Akira murmured.
He raised his free hand, the cold leather of his glove lightly tracing the curve of her jawline. The gesture was slow, deliberate, and utterly degrading.
"A pity you chose to follow the wrong god."
Akira leaned in, closing the distance until his lips hovered mere inches from her ear. His voice dropped into a low, silken whisper—a predator toying with its prey.
"Konan."
"You don't want Nagato to suffer, do you?"
Konan froze. The breath hitched in her throat, her amber eyes widening in stark terror as she stared at the man holding her life, and Nagato's, in his hands. She ceased her struggling instantly.
"What... what are you going to do?"
Akira smiled. It was a brilliant, flawless expression that did not reach his cold eyes.
"What am I going to do?"
He finally turned his attention to the broken man slumped in the machinery.
"Look at him. With his current physical state, if I apply even a fraction of my strength..."
Akira's gloved fingers tightened fractionally around Konan's throat, a silent demonstration of his absolute control.
"Perhaps I won't kill him. But I know ten thousand ways to make a man beg for a death he will never receive. Given his frail constitution, how many days do you think he could endure my hospitality?"
A violent shudder wracked Konan's frame. Hot tears spilled over her lower lashes, tracking down her pale cheeks. Nagato was her anchor, the very last fragment of the family she had left in this ruined world.
"No... please, don't..." Her voice broke, reduced to a pathetic, choked sob. "I beg you... don't hurt him."
"Uchiha Akira! You bastard!" Nagato roared, his voice cracking under the strain. "If you have the guts, kill me! What kind of coward uses a woman as a shield!"
Nagato shifted his furious glare toward the white-haired Toad Sage standing quietly in the background.
"Jiraiya-sensei! Are you just going to stand there and watch him do this?"
The accusation hung heavy in the damp air, thick with betrayal and bitter disappointment.
Jiraiya's jaw locked. The deep lines on his weathered face seemed to age him a decade in seconds. He took a heavy step forward, his hands clenching into fists.
"Akira, isn't this going a bit too—"
"Jiraiya."
A hardened, stitched hand clamped down like an iron vice across Jiraiya's chest, halting his advance. Kakuzu stared at the Sannin, his green eyes utterly devoid of warmth, radiating a silent, lethal warning.
"Do not do anything foolish." Kakuzu's voice was a gravelly rasp. "You know Hokage-sama's temper better than anyone. If you speak up now, you will not save them. You will only drag yourself into the abyss alongside them."
Kakuzu leaned closer, dropping his voice to a harsh murmur.
"... this is their only path to survival. If they refuse to submit, their only remaining value is as corpses. Tell me, Sannin. Do you want your precious disciples to die today, or do you want them to live?"
The harsh reality of the situation crashed down on Jiraiya. He knew Uchiha Akira's ironclad philosophy: those who bow, thrive; those who stand, perish. If they refused to submit, Nagato and Konan were already dead. Pleading for mercy would achieve nothing. Attempting to forcefully rescue them was a laughable fantasy against a monster of Akira's caliber.
Survival, no matter how humiliating, was still survival.
Jiraiya released a long, defeated sigh. His shoulders sagged, and he silently took a step back, retreating into the shadows.
That single step backward echoed like a death knell in the silent cavern. It completely shattered the final, fragile shard of hope in Nagato's heart.
"Konan."
Akira's voice was smooth, cutting through the heavy atmosphere. He looked down at the woman, her face a canvas of wet, glistening despair. Slowly, he released his suffocating grip on her throat. His hand slid upward, his fingers catching her chin in a vice-like grip, forcing her gaze up to meet his.
"My patience is a finite resource," Akira stated, his tone devoid of any inflection. "I will give you three seconds. Submit, or die."
Konan stared into those abyssal, cold eyes. There was no bluff there. Only the calculating certainty of an executioner.
She closed her eyes.
Two fresh streams of tears carved paths down her cheeks, dripping onto her Akatsuki cloak. Her legs gave out.
Konan collapsed to her knees.
The proud, untouchable Angel of Amegakure folded herself onto the damp stone floor. She bowed her head, pressing her forehead flush against the freezing ground at Uchiha Akira's boots.
"I am willing... to submit."
Her voice was a broken whisper, ground down into the dust.
"I beg you... spare Nagato."
"Konan!"
Nagato's roar tore his throat to shreds. The sheer agony of his helplessness pushed him past his limits, and two thick streams of bloody tears leaked from his wide, frantic eyes.
Akira looked down at the prostrate woman, a faint, satisfied smirk touching the corners of his mouth.
"Very good. A smart woman."
He reached down, his gloved fingers threading casually through her short, blue-purple hair. It was the gesture of a master praising a newly tamed pet.
"Since you are so obedient, I shall be merciful. His life is spared."
With that decree, Akira shifted his gaze back to the crippled Uzumaki. The right eye in Akira's socket—a rippling, purple Rinnegan—suddenly flared with oppressive ocular power.
"Six Paths: Sealing Technique: Spirit Binding!"
Spatial chakra warped the air. A pitch-black vortex tore open in the fabric of reality, manifesting directly beneath the heavy metal chassis of Nagato's wheelchair.
Konan's head snapped up. Pure, unadulterated terror seized her features.
"You promised me you wouldn't kill him!" she screamed, her voice cracking. "You lied to me!"
She scrambled upward, desperate to throw herself across the room and drag Nagato away from the spatial tear. Before she could take a single step, Akira's hand clamped down heavily onto her shoulder. The sheer physical force pinned her to the spot, rendering her entirely immobile.
"Calm down," Akira commanded, his tone perfectly flat. "I am not killing him. I am saving him."
Forced to watch, Konan could only sob as Nagato, mechanical walker and all, slowly sank into the swirling abyss of the dark vortex.
"If he remained in the outside world, that ruined body of his would not last another three years," Akira explained, watching the spatial distortion swallow the Akatsuki leader. "But inside my Tianyu Space, the dimensional origin power will actively nourish his failing cells and repair his severe chakra depletion. For a man in his condition, this is the only true path to survival."
Akira watched impassively until the last metallic spike of the wheelchair vanished. The dark vortex twisted shut, sealing smoothly into thin air.
"Of course," Akira continued, his gaze drifting back down to the trembling woman pinned beneath his hand. A dark, possessive smile curved his lips. "Every transaction requires an exchange. From this moment forward, you belong to me."
He leaned down, his voice echoing with absolute authority.
"The revered Angel of the Akatsuki Organization... from today onward, you are the exclusive property of Uchiha Akira."
Konan sat frozen, her hollow eyes locked onto the empty stone floor where Nagato had just been.
With the Uzumaki subdued and sealed away, the decapitation strike against the Akatsuki was officially concluded. The elite combat echelon of Amegakure had been systematically dismantled and wiped off the board.
"Kakuzu."
Akira released Konan and turned his back on her shattered form.
"You will remain here," Akira ordered, his tone shifting back to the crisp, commanding cadence of a military dictator. "Work alongside Konan to fully integrate and take over Amegakure. I will not tolerate this village falling into chaotic infighting. From this day forward, the Hidden Rain is a subsidiary base of Konoha."
Kakuzu immediately bowed at the waist, his dark cloak billowing.
"Understood, my Lord. The infrastructure here is pitifully poor, but the geographical location is highly strategic. Operating it as a central transit hub will yield significant profit margins."
At the mere mention of generating revenue, a familiar, greedy glint illuminated Kakuzu's green eyes.
Akira raised a finger, pointing sharply at the broken woman on the floor.
"Keep a close eye on her. Do not allow her the opportunity to do anything foolish. If she escapes, or if she manages to kill herself, I will hold you personally accountable."
Kakuzu cast a sidelong glance at the distraught Konan, a cruel, knowing grin stretching beneath his mask.
"Rest assured, Hokage-sama. I will guard her as fiercely as I guard my own treasury."
Akira gave a curt nod of approval.
He then shifted his attention to Jiraiya. The Sannin had remained entirely silent, standing rigidly in the shadows.
"What is it?" Akira asked, his voice laced with dry amusement. "Are you still mourning the fate of your wayward disciples?"
Jiraiya slowly raised his head. The jovial, mischievous warmth that usually defined the Toad Sage was completely gone, replaced by an overwhelming, bone-deep exhaustion.
"Akira," Jiraiya began, his voice raspy. "Are you truly... planning to go through with this? Can unifying the entire shinobi world by force actually bring about true peace?"
Witnessing Nagato's brutal subjugation had planted seeds of deep doubt in Jiraiya's heart regarding the very concept of peace.
Akira closed the distance between them. He raised a hand, clapping it firmly onto the older shinobi's shoulder.
"Jiraiya. Peace is not something you beg for at a negotiation table. It is not achieved through naive attempts at mutual understanding."
Akira's crimson eyes hardened, burning with absolute conviction.
"Peace is carved out through bloodshed. Only absolute power can forge absolute order. And order, Jiraiya, is peace."
Akira turned away, his gaze drifting toward the jagged, rain-slicked skyline of Amegakure visible through the shattered walls.
"Nagato walked the wrong path. He believed that forcing the world to feel his pain would stop the cycle. He was a fool."
Akira's voice dropped, connecting with an unshakeable, terrifying authority.
"As for me... I will make the world submit to my will. As long as I draw breath, this world will simply not dare to wage war."
Jiraiya stared at the young Hokage's tall, unyielding back, falling into a heavy silence. Despite the ruthless cruelty he had just witnessed, a traitorous thought took root in Jiraiya's mind.
Perhaps... perhaps Uchiha Akira was right.
In a shinobi world defined by endless cruelty and betrayal, perhaps only this brand of absolute, terrifying hegemony could finally shatter the centuries-old cycle of hatred.
"Let's go," Akira commanded. His chakra flared, the Body Flicker Technique already bending the space around him. "We return to Konoha. There is still much work waiting for me."
In a blur of motion, Uchiha Akira vanished from the cavern, leaving the weeping Angel and the shattered remnants of the Akatsuki behind.
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