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The second Seimei popped onto the deck, the whole ship went dead quiet.
Four of Orochimaru's lab-rat goons just stared at the random pretty-boy who'd appeared out of thin air.
The first idiot (some loudmouth with a monkey mask) broke the silence.
"Yo, boss… you're not actually buying this ghost-story bullshit from Monkey, are you?"
Captain Itō didn't even grace him with an answer. Just kept scanning the deck like a real shinobi should. Unlike these three disposable freaks who got their powers from test tubes, Itō had been a legit chūnin before Orochimaru stitched him back together. He knew the rules: never drop your guard. Especially not when the snake himself warned this job could go sideways fast.
Monkey's senses were juiced on whatever freak serum he'd swallowed, so his "bad feeling" wasn't nothing.
Itō kept that intel to himself. These three were bait, not teammates. The less they knew, the prettier they screamed when the trap sprang.
Then it happened.
One heartbeat, empty deck. Next heartbeat, Seimei was standing two meters in front of Itō like he'd always been there.
"Who the hell—?!"
Kunai already flying from Itō's hand, body already leaping backward, putting the three meat shields between him and the intruder.
The trio snapped into motion like rabid dogs.
Snake-guy's legs fused into a thick tail and blurred forward. Arms turned to rubber hoses, looping around Seimei's torso five, six times. Jaws unhinged, fangs flashing, venom pumping straight into the neck.
Veins went black instantly.
Snake-guy finally smirked. "Heh, kid, that you pulling parlor tricks earlier?"
Seimei didn't answer. Just gave him a bored side-eye.
Something felt wrong. Snake-guy's instincts screamed.
"Monkey! Rock! Hit him NOW!"
Too late.
Monkey vaulted across the deck like a damn ape, kunai plunging deep into Seimei's back.
Rock's arms turned to granite, swung a haymaker that could've caved a skull.
Normal human? Paste.
Seimei? Didn't even flinch.
The poison in his neck faded like it never existed.
Three voices screamed in unison:
"What the fuck?!"
"That's impossible!"
Seimei sighed, low and pissed-off.
"Hmph."
BOOM.
Invisible force slammed into all three like a truck made of hate. Bodies flew, crashed, rolled across the deck like broken dolls.
Seimei stepped forward, slow, toward Itō, who'd been hiding behind his own men the whole time.
Itō's eyes widened in recognition. Color drained from his face. Instead of fighting, the coward twisted mid-air, dove straight overboard.
Mid-dive, gills flared on his neck, fins sprouted from his arms. Amphibian upgrade. Perfect for disappearing into the ocean and ratting back to daddy Orochimaru.
In his head, Itō was already laughing: Sorry, boys. You three were born to be meat shields.
Splash.
Except the splash never came.
One blink later, Itō was still standing on deck, frozen stiff.
Seimei hadn't moved an inch.
The three idiots were rooted in place too, eyes blank, faces locked in that last second of stupid shock.
Itō's throat clicked as he swallowed.
Black-sun pattern spinning lazy in Seimei's eyes.
Genjutsu. Everything from the second he appeared had been one long, lazy illusion.
Cold sweat rolled down Itō's temple, hit the deck with a soft drip.
Seimei stared at him like he was watching paint dry.
"Boring."
Another blink.
Reality snapped back.
All four goons were sprawled on the deck, twitching, drooling, still trapped in their own private nightmares until Seimei felt like letting go.
He'd only thrown the genjutsu on a whim, partly to see what they'd do, partly to check if Orochimaru had planted any nasty little failsafes in their heads.
Result?
Three rabid animals with decent teamwork but zero training.
One spineless rat whose first and only instinct was to run and snitch.
Disappointing. All of them.
Seimei crouched over Itō, planted a palm on the guy's forehead.
Mangekyō spun, then shifted, silver rings, purple ripples.
Rinnegan activated.
Memories flooded in like a broken firehose.
Time to see what the snake's been cooking.