[Bonus Chapter for Powerstones]
A flash of cold light gleamed—at the very moment Bibari Jūzō turned his head, Hyūga Shinichi, who had been standing several meters away, struck without hesitation.
Even without using the Flying Thunder God Technique, his movement was lightning-fast. In an instant, he was right before Jūzō, leaping lightly as the short blade in his hand slashed straight toward the man's head.
Years of dancing on the edge of life and death had honed Jūzō's reflexes to perfection. His elite instincts kicked in at once, saving his life. He twisted his body aside, raising his massive Decapitating Blade to block. Steel clashed violently.
CLANG!
The sheer force of impact sent a shudder up Shinichi's arm. Inexperience betrayed him—the boy gripped the hilt too tightly, and the shock tore the blade from his hands, sending it flying.
For a brief moment, surprise flashed in Shinichi's eyes. But instead of retreating, he lunged forward, closing the gap between them in a blur. Bending low—almost sliding along the flat of Jūzō's greatsword—he thrust his glowing fingers toward Jūzō's ribs.
At the same time, Shinichi's left hand drew a kunai and flicked it toward Jūzō's legs.
"This brat…" Jūzō growled.
Seeing the boy's sudden advance, his instincts screamed caution—but noticing that the kunai's aim was off, he ignored it completely, focusing instead on Shinichi's Jūken strike.
Shinichi was fast—so fast that there was no time to pull the sword back to guard. Jūzō released his grip, letting the giant blade fall, raising his forearms instead, armored guards ready to absorb the impact.
He knew the Hyūga's famed Gentle Fist well—its speed and precision were deadly, but its piercing power was weak. Against armor, even light plating, its lethality dropped sharply.
In theory, a heavily armored shinobi with superior taijutsu could suppress a Hyūga in close combat. After all, the Byakugan was more useful for reconnaissance than direct combat.
And this was just a kid. If the boy could use the Gentle Fist at all, that was already impressive. With proper caution, Jūzō thought, he might even subdue him and force a way out.
But what he didn't expect was for the boy to simply vanish.
The moment Shinichi's hand was about to strike his guard, his small figure disappeared.
The next instant, pain exploded from Jūzō's abdomen.
Lightning chakra covered Shinichi's fingertips as he struck, piercing through Jūzō's armored plate and driving deep into his flesh.
"Ugh—!"
Agony ripped through him. He felt his chakra channels seal under the disruptive surge of foreign energy. Breath caught in his throat, his body stiffened.
When he looked up again, Shinichi was already before him—his Gentle Fist slammed into Jūzō's torso with a heavy thud.
Jūzō staggered backward, gasping, pain forcing him to one knee. His breath came ragged, sweat dripping down his face.
"What… what's going on…?"
He hadn't even seen the boy move. When he'd looked again, his chakra was sealed, his strength nearly gone.
Desperate, Jūzō snatched up his great blade, swinging wildly in defiance—
But Shinichi had already leapt back, effortlessly evading the counter.
Around them, Hyūga clansmen tightened their formation, ready to intervene if Shinichi made a mistake. They'd seen too many young "geniuses" lose their lives to dying opponents' last strikes.
But Shinichi wasn't arrogant. He didn't rush forward recklessly. Instead, he raised his palm—
"Eight Trigrams: Vacuum Palm!"
A wave of compressed chakra struck Jūzō square on the jaw, sending the man flying backward like a ragdoll.
BANG!
He crashed heavily to the ground. The Decapitating Blade flew from his hands, landing with a dull clang beside him.
The surrounding Hyūga ninjas moved in at once. In seconds, Jūzō was pinned down, arms twisted behind him, and bound tightly with steel wire.
Hyūga Hizashi stepped forward, grabbing Jūzō by the collar and hauling him up before Shinichi. With a sharp kick to the back of Jūzō's knees, he forced the Mist ninja to kneel.
Out of the six Mist-nin who had attacked—five lay dead. Their leader, Bibari Jūzō of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist, had been captured alive.
The entire fight had taken only moments.
Against Shinichi's Flying Thunder God, most opponents never lasted beyond a single exchange. Even elite jōnin like Jūzō couldn't withstand ten moves.
Even without a weapon, Shinichi's combination of teleportation and Gentle Fist was overwhelming.
In truth, Jūzō had lost because he lacked intel.
Had he known that Shinichi not only mastered the Gentle Fist but also the Flying Thunder God, he would've realized that the "misfired" kunai was a teleportation marker—and never exposed his flank.
Nor did he expect a boy this young to have mastered chakra nature transformation. Shinichi's Gentle Fist wasn't the same as the rest of his clan—it could pierce armor.
Now, bound and kneeling before the Hyūga prodigy, Jūzō's expression was dazed—unable to comprehend how someone of his level had been defeated so swiftly.
He knew escape was nearly impossible from the start. But he'd at least expected to take a few of them with him. Instead, in just a handful of exchanges, he'd been crushed and captured.
Shinichi stood above him, arms folded, calm but faintly dissatisfied.
Being disarmed mid-battle had been sloppy, he thought. He wasn't exactly a master swordsman, but still—it bothered him.
At least, the results were satisfactory. The Flying Thunder God had performed beautifully in actual combat.
"Bibari Jūzō…"
The name stirred an old memory.
Yes—this was indeed one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist.
Even someone of his caliber couldn't react in time to Shinichi's teleportation. That alone proved how far his mastery of the Flying Thunder God had come.
Perhaps he still couldn't match Minato's pure speed, but against anyone short of a Kage, it was more than enough.
The Hyūga clansmen gathered around, watching the captured Mist ninja in silence. Many of them recognized him as one of the Seven Swordsmen, too.
They wanted to praise Shinichi, to speak their admiration aloud—but seeing his quiet, composed demeanor, they swallowed their words.
Inwardly, though, they were stunned.
They had heard of Shinichi's genius, some had even witnessed his duel with Danzō—but today's display was beyond imagination.
Fast. Precise. Ruthless.
A golden flash—that was how legends fought on the battlefield.
And in their eyes, the way Hyūga Shinichi wielded the Flying Thunder God was in no way inferior to the Fourth Hokage, Minato Namikaze.
Shinichi studied Jūzō for a long moment, then finally spoke:
"Ao… you Mist-nin have someone named Ao. Where is he now?"
"Give me accurate information, and I might let you live."
He didn't expect much of an answer—but it was worth asking.
In Shinichi's memory, Jūzō had once been a man who'd shielded his comrades from a Tailed Beast Bomb with his own body. Though his current actions—using subordinates as sacrifices—were disappointing, Shinichi still offered him a chance to live.
At the name, Jūzō's eyes twitched.
"Ao…!"
And in that instant, everything became clear.
So that was why so many Hyūga were patrolling the Fire Country's borders—
They were here to retrieve the stolen Byakugan.
And he—Bibari Jūzō—had simply been the unlucky one to stumble into the storm meant for another.
The "ghost card" had been drawn—and it was his turn to pay the price.
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