A slender figure with pink hair appeared in front of Akira.
The tension in his shoulders immediately eased.
Fortunately, it wasn't one of the more troublesome Phantom Troupe members. If it had been someone like that, he might not have been able to win without going all out.
But the person in front of him…
Her strength was only average, though her support abilities were excellent.
At his current level, he could defeat her easily—even without risking his life.
Machi Komacine.
Hisoka's personal healer.
Looks like Hisoka wouldn't have to cry into his pillow anymore—his medic was alive again.
Machi raised a hand slightly, then sighed and walked over to the sofa, dropping onto it and crossing her legs as if she owned the place.
Akira blinked.
"…?"
"Aren't you surprised?" he asked. "You remember me, right?"
Machi gave him a strange look.
"Akira Hyūga. The boy who defeated Hisoka. I was at Heaven's Arena."
They had never met face to face, but she knew who he was.
Though… he was much more muscular now. Still recognizable if you looked closely.
Akira thought for a moment.
So this was the Machi from the Hunter world—she remembered him.
But she didn't recognize him as the one who killed her.
Ah… right. He'd been disguised as a mafia member at the time.
"No reaction to being in an unfamiliar place?" he asked.
She was far too calm.
Machi replied flatly, "I already died. Being alive again is strange enough. A different place doesn't matter much."
"And I tried to attack you just now," she added. "My body froze completely. It only returned to normal when I stopped intending to harm you."
She studied him curiously.
"Your Nen ability wasn't summoning the dead, was it? I thought it was fire and teleportation."
Akira glanced at the card in his hand. The image of the entire Phantom Troupe had faded, leaving only Machi.
"…Something like that," he said vaguely.
It wasn't entirely inaccurate.
Still… she couldn't attack him. That was useful.
Machi asked quietly, "What happened to the Phantom Troupe?"
Her last memory was of a mafia gunman rushing at her. She'd sensed something wrong—but it was too late. The man had dropped the gun, drawn a blade… and everything went dark.
She knew the Troupe had been set up.
Akira smiled faintly.
"I'm not sure. And this isn't your world anymore, so I really wouldn't know."
Machi watched him silently.
Her instincts told her he was lying.
"Another world?" she asked. "Some kind of strange Nen ability?"
"No," Akira said, spreading his hands. "Literally another world. Welcome to the world of ninja."
She frowned.
Her instincts told her he wasn't lying.
"Prove it."
"Tomorrow," Akira said, stroking his chin. A mischievous grin spread across his face.
Machi crossed her arms instinctively.
"What are you planning?"
"You can't attack me," he said. "Does that mean you also have to follow my orders?"
Machi's expression hardened. Threads appeared between her fingers.
She couldn't kill him—but she could kill herself.
Akira pointed casually.
"Go clean the house."
Machi suddenly found her body moving on its own, rising to her feet.
She… was being forced to clean?
A professional assassin… reduced to housekeeping.
Her bad feeling had been correct.
Akira flopped onto the sofa and looked at her disdainfully.
"I'm thirteen," he said. "What were you imagining? Pervert."
A vein throbbed on Machi's forehead.
This guy was even more annoying than Hisoka.
Later, Machi cleaned while Akira sat watching her, idly spinning the summoning card.
She appeared perfectly normal—no obvious flaws.
"Can you still use your abilities?" he asked.
Machi said nothing, but several threads appeared beside him… only to vanish before touching him.
So the summoning card imposed serious restrictions.
In the ninja world, Machi's strength would still be roughly special jōnin level—a valuable helper.
But her identity was troublesome.
An ordinary civilian would attract no attention.
But someone with ninja-level ability? Konoha would investigate, imprison, interrogate…
Unless Machi behaved perfectly.
Which, given her background in Meteor City and the Phantom Troupe, was unlikely.
Letting her roam freely would almost certainly cause trouble.
"…Can I send her back?" Akira wondered.
The card flashed.
Machi vanished.
Akira's eyes lit up.
"So she really is a summon now."
But… why Machi?
A moment ago he'd been relieved it was her. Now he was sighing about it.
As a summon, she was… decent, but not extraordinary.
Not strong enough to be a main combatant, and her medical skills weren't necessarily better than his own.
Useful—but not essential.
He summoned her again.
Machi frowned.
"…What just happened?"
She had no memory of being dismissed.
Interesting.
Though Akira wasn't entirely convinced—Transmuters were notorious liars.
"Nothing," he said.
The Phantom Troupe Summoning Scroll had now changed into a Machi Summoning Scroll.
So it was now a fixed summon.
Machi said nothing, but inwardly resolved to play along for now—wait for an opportunity to break free and kill him.
The next morning, loud knocking woke Akira.
"…Who keeps knocking this early…"
The house was spotless—thanks to Machi's labor the previous night. Akira had used her and dismissed her without hesitation. The perfect slave driver.
He opened the door.
"Big bro!!" Nawaki's energetic voice rang out.
Akira covered his face.
"Don't you have school?"
"It's the weekend! No classes!!"
Chapter 132: Nawaki Wants to Challenge Akira
Akira stepped outside wearing only light clothing.
Snow covered everything, but with his physique, cold was trivial.
"…Achoo!"
"Big bro… maybe we should go back and get you a thicker coat," Nawaki suggested.
Akira was barely wearing anything—one layer at most. Nawaki, bundled in a padded jacket, felt cold just looking at him.
"I'm fine."
Chakra spread through Akira's body, driving away the chill.
One of Nen's applications was temperature control. And chakra nature manipulation could also generate heat.
A simple trick.
"See? Not cold anymore."
So yes—mere winter meant nothing.
Their main goal today was to buy furniture.
Many shops were closed in winter, but furniture stores still operated—business was just slow.
They quickly chose one, bought several items, and arranged delivery.
Only then did Nawaki reveal his real purpose.
"Big bro… fight me!"
Akira tilted his head.
"You're serious?"
This wasn't bullying—Nawaki had asked for it.
Akira already possessed genuine jōnin-level strength. Nawaki, though talented, was still at best a strong genin.
A jōnin versus a genin… the outcome was obvious.
"I'm serious," Nawaki said confidently. "I've trained for a long time to defeat you."
Though Akira had beaten him before, Nawaki refused to accept being weaker forever.
"You've grown fast as a ninja," Nawaki said, raising his fists, eyes burning. "But I won't lose to you!"
Akira smiled faintly.
Let's see if you still say that later.
They arrived at the Forest of Death, where they used to train.
"Nawaki-bro, you can do it!!!"
Akira blinked.
Minato and Kushina were waving glow sticks.
"…Where did those come from?!"
And why did they look like fanatical supporters?
They were even wearing green cloaks with Nawaki's face on them.
What had he done to these kids?!
A fan club? A cult?!
"Nawaki," Akira said slowly, "what exactly did you do to them?"
"Details don't matter!" Nawaki declared. "I'm coming!"
He moved instantly, closing the distance and throwing a punch.
Akira sidestepped easily.
"Fast," he admitted.
Akira countered with a knee strike. Nawaki reacted quickly, blocking and flipping backward to land safely.
"Not bad," Akira said sincerely. "That reaction speed is already close to chūnin level."
Akira briefly wondered if this was some kind of fantasy Naruto setting.
Seeing Akira distracted, Nawaki attacked again, smashing downward with a fist.
Akira jumped back, avoiding the strike—and Nawaki slammed the ground.
"Earth Release: Shattering Fist!"
The ground cracked. A stone spike shot upward beneath Akira's feet.
Akira flipped away, stumbling slightly before clapping.
"Nice technique. You're ready for the Chūnin Exams."
"But the power's too low. Needs refinement."
Nawaki took a breath, stomped hard, and launched himself like a cannonball.
"Don't underestimate me!!"
Akira dodged again, letting Nawaki's blows pass harmlessly.
Punches, kicks, sweeps—Nawaki attacked relentlessly.
Akira simply shifted his body, avoiding every strike.
Finally Nawaki stopped, panting heavily.
"Fight seriously!!"
Akira sighed.
"Looks like I have to."
The smile faded from his face.
Killing intent exploded outward.
Nawaki froze instantly.
Cold seeped into his bones. His body refused to move.
Move… move!!
He screamed inside—but nothing responded.
A kunai touched his throat.
"This," Akira said coldly, "is what a ninja is."
Nawaki swallowed.
Defeat. Absolute defeat.
All his training… meaningless the moment Akira got serious.
"You can't even withstand killing intent," Akira said, putting the kunai away. "How can you fight me?"
In the distance, Kushina collapsed dramatically.
"Impossible… Nawaki-bro lost…"
Minato bowed his head solemnly.
"I will inherit your will, Nawaki-bro."
He looked at Akira with determination.
"One day I will defeat you, Big-Big-Brother Akira!"
"I'm not dead!!" Nawaki shouted.
"And what's with 'Big-Big-Brother'?!" Akira groaned.
"My life is very important!!" Nawaki protested loudly.
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