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Chapter 118: Count Me In On Your Dream
A dead end?
No.
Dragon's gaze landed on the vent above his head, which was still emitting hot steam.
Although it was high and continuously spewing scalding vapor, this couldn't stump him.
"Can you climb up?"
Dragon pointed upward, his voice so calm it didn't sound like he was running for his life.
The orange-haired boy looked up, gritted his teeth, and a flash of ruthlessness passed through his eyes.
"I can!"
"Good. Step on my shoulders to get up, then pull me up."
No nonsense.
Dragon squatted halfway down, bracing his hands on his knees.
The orange-haired boy didn't hesitate either. Stepping onto Dragon's shoulders and enduring the scalding steam, he clamped his hands firmly onto the edge of the vent, climbing up like a gecko.
"Quick! Give me your hand!"
Lying on the edge of the vent, the boy extended a filthy hand.
Dragon grabbed that hand and, using the leverage to leap, kicked off the wall twice, flipping lightly into the ventilation duct.
Almost the very next second after they vanished.
Boom!
The pile of debris below was kicked aside by a ninja.
"Nobody?!"
"Damn it! They definitely couldn't have gone far! Chase them that way!"
Listening to the footsteps fading into the distance, the two lying in the scalding duct finally breathed a sigh of relief.
In the narrow, dark space, only the sound of their rapid breathing remained.
The orange-haired boy rolled over, lying on his back and gasping for air, his chest heaving violently.
After a good while, he turned his head. By the faint light filtering through the vent, he sized up his savior beside him.
"Thanks, brother."
The boy grinned, revealing a mouthful of white teeth. His smile was so brilliant it seemed completely out of place in this gloomy world.
"I'm Yahiko. I owe you a life."
Inside the narrow ventilation duct, the air was turbid, filled with the pungent smell of rust mixed with engine oil.
Yahiko lay on his back on the cold metal sheet, his chest rising and falling sharply. Every breath sounded like the pulling of worn-out bellows.
He turned his head, observing his silent peer by the dim light leaking through the cracks.
The other boy was sitting cross-legged, his back straight as a ramrod. Through the slats of the vent, those black eyes coldly watched the retreating backs of the ninjas on the street below.
That look didn't resemble a teenage boy's at all.
It was too cold.
Colder than the rain outside.
"Hey." Yahiko broke the silence, his voice a bit dry from lack of oxygen. "Those moves just now were really clean."
Dragon withdrew his gaze and turned to look at Yahiko.
Messy orange hair stuck to his forehead, and his face was covered in grease and muddy water, but those eyes were frighteningly bright.
"Why did you do that?" Dragon's voice was calm and rippleless.
Yahiko paused, then propped up his upper body against the duct wall, wiping the dirty water from his face casually.
"Why what?"
"Provoking ninjas." Dragon stared at him. "You have no chakra, and your taijutsu is a complete mess. If I hadn't stepped in, you would already be a corpse."
This wasn't scaremongering, but stating a fact.
In this Hidden Rain Village where human life was as cheap as grass, a commoner provoking a ninja would die in a gutter with no one to even collect the corpse.
"Are you an idiot?" Dragon added.
The air was quiet for a few seconds.
Yahiko suddenly grinned and started laughing.
That smile was very clean, revealing a row of neat white teeth. In this dark, cramped, filth-filled duct, it was actually somewhat dazzling.
It was like...
A ray of sunlight forcibly tearing through a crack in a sky covered with dark clouds.
"I know."
Yahiko clasped his hands behind his head, leaned back comfortably against the metal, and crossed his legs, swinging them.
"Those two bastard ninjas were indeed tough. Their shuriken throwing was spot on; they almost nailed me to the wall."
He spoke lightly, as if the person who had just experienced a brush with death wasn't him.
"Then why did you still go?"
"But..." Yahiko reined in his smile, turning to look at the gray sky outside the vent. "That uncle was about to be beaten to death."
Dragon was silent.
"And that little girl, she's so small. If she were taken away..." Yahiko paused, a trace of disgust flashing deep in his eyes. "Who knows what would happen to her."
"That has nothing to do with you," Dragon said coldly. "In this country, things like this happen every day. You can't save them all; you'll even get yourself killed."
"I know."
Yahiko nodded, not refuting him.
But he immediately smiled again, pointing to his own chest.
"But it feels uncomfortable here."
"Seeing that kind of thing, if I pretended not to see and walked past, I wouldn't be able to sleep for days."
"Since I saw it, my body just moved on its own."
Yahiko shrugged, his tone so matter-of-fact that it was irrefutable.
Wanted to do it, so I did it.
Even if his strength was meager, even if he faced an insurmountable power.
Dragon looked at this orange-haired boy before him.
Even in the mud of the lowest level, even covered in filth, this boy's soul was dazzlingly clean.
Dragon was very familiar with this quality.
It was something he had seen countless times on the sea.
It was something that silly boy Luffy had, something Sabo had.
It was the spark named "Hope."
"What's your name?" Dragon asked.
"Yahiko." The boy patted his chest. "The future God of the Ninja World!"
"God of the Ninja World?" Dragon raised an eyebrow.
"That's right!"
Yahiko sat up straight excitedly, his eyes shining with light.
"This country is sick."
He pointed at the curtain of rain outside, his voice becoming low and serious.
"The rain keeps falling without stopping, just like this country is crying."
"The great nations fight wars here, snatching our food, killing our families, turning this place into hell."
"That old man Hanzo only hides in his high tower, not caring about our lives or deaths at all."
Yahiko clenched his fists, his knuckles turning slightly white from the force.
"I want to change all of this."
"I want to make the rain stop."
"I want to build a world without war, where everyone can eat their fill and live on with a smile!"
The boy's grand words echoed in the narrow duct.
Very naive.
Even somewhat laughable.
A wandering orphan who hadn't even extracted chakra actually delusionally wanted to change this war-torn world sandwiched between three great nations.
If it were the Dragon of before, he might have sneered and turned away.
Because he knew revolution wasn't a dinner party, nor was it shouting slogans.
It relied on bloodshed, sacrifice, precise planning, and cold execution.
But at this moment.
Looking at the fire in Yahiko's eyes that almost burned through the darkness.
Dragon felt the heart that had been silent for so long in his chest beat violently once.
He remembered his original intention for creating the Revolutionary Army.
He remembered those flags fluttering in the wind and rain.
In this despairing dungeon world, in this sunless Land of Rain.
He was not alone.
Dragon took a deep breath, his originally cold expression slowly melting.
He extended his hand.
Although that hand was thin and pale, it was extremely steady.
"I am Monkey D. Dragon."
"Count me in on your dream."
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