Chapter 3: Time Erasure! A World of Only Results
Swish!
The curtain of rain was ruthlessly sliced open.
That strike was too fast, so fast that even the retina couldn't capture an afterimage.
Iaijutsu.
Underneath his mask, the corners of Hanzou's mouth curled up wildly. At this distance, no one could dodge this certain-kill strike. Even if that blue-haired girl wanted to warn him, her voice wouldn't be able to catch up to the blade.
The blade cut into flesh without any resistance.
The familiar tactile sensation of severing bone traveled up the hilt.
"It's over."
Cruelty flickered in Hanzou's eyes. "The winner is me."
"No."
A cold voice abruptly sounded right against his ear, like a ghost breathing on the back of his neck:
"The winner is me."
What?!
The hair on Hanzou's body stood on end, and his pupils constricted violently.
To his horror, he discovered that the "Yahiko" in front of him, who had been impaled by the sickle, flickered eerily like the static on an old television screen, and then—
Vanished into thin air!
The blade had sliced through nothing but air!
Before Hanzou's brain could process this image, a soul-tearing pain suddenly erupted from his abdomen.
Puchi!
An arm interlaced with a red-and-white grid pattern brutally pierced through his back, directly impaling his lower abdomen! Blood mixed with fragments of internal organs sprayed out as if it were free.
"Ugh... ah!!"
Hanzou staggered and looked down at the terrifying bloody hole, his mind going completely blank.
When did this happen?
The Body Flicker Technique? No, even with the Body Flicker Technique, there should have been a trajectory!
Yahiko stood behind Hanzou and slowly withdrew his arm. His amber eyes were as cold as ice, and the menacing red-and-white phantom behind him flickered in and out of existence.
"Cough, bleh!"
Hanzou violently spat out a large mouthful of black blood. The intense pain and fear finally shattered his pride. Even his gas mask was blown off, revealing an old face distorted by horror.
A monster!
This kid's ability isn't Ninjutsu at all!
Survival instinct triumphed over dignity. Chakra exploded from the soles of Hanzou's feet as he retreated backward like a madman, clutching the large hole in his stomach tightly.
"Hanzou!!"
Only then did Konan react. Paper wings unfolded behind her, and countless sharp Paper Shuriken were about to be launched.
"Stop, Konan."
Yahiko raised his hand, stopping her. He walked toward Hanzou step by step, each footfall crushing the standing water on the ground—and Hanzou's psychological defenses.
"Damn... you damn brat!"
Hanzou leaned against a giant rock, gasping like a broken bellows. "What do you know! Cough cough... The Land of Rain is squeezed between three Great Nations. Without me, the 'Demigod,' holding it up, this country would have perished long ago!"
"Peace? That's just the sleep-talking of brats like you! Aside from power and terror, nothing can protect anything!"
Facing Hanzou's hysterical roar, Yahiko remained expressionless, his gaze like he was looking at a stray dog.
"Shut up, old man."
Yahiko interrupted him. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an unquestionable imperial pressure.
"The current you is just a coward shivering in a dark corner just to hold onto power."
"Open your eyes and look. What has your 'protection' turned the Land of Rain into?"
Yahiko stopped walking. King Crimson slowly emerged behind him, the small face on its forehead flickering with an eerie green light.
"Since the old god has rotted, then step down."
"From today on, I am taking over the Land of Rain."
Hum—!
Epitaph activated!
Images of the future were instantly projected into Yahiko's mind: in three seconds, Hanzou would weave signs; it was the poison mist of a death struggle.
Since he had seen it, it was meaningless!
"King Crimson!"
Red light surged in Yahiko's eyes, and the Stand behind him instantly turned into an afterimage and charged out.
"Die!!" Hanzou staked everything on one throw, opening his mouth to spit out deadly poison.
But King Crimson's fists were faster than the poison mist!
Ora ora ora ora—!!!
Heavy punches capable of crushing rock bombarded Hanzou like a rainstorm, every blow striking home!
Bang bang bang bang!
Amidst the dense, muffled sounds, Hanzou's sternum collapsed, and his whole body was sent flying like a ragdoll, smashing hard into the mud.
Won?
Yahiko's brow suddenly furrowed.
He didn't feel the sensation of crushing a solid entity.
The "Hanzou" flying through the air exploded with a "pop" just before hitting the ground, turning into a puddle of murky water that splashed into the rain.
A Water Clone?
"As expected of the Ninja World's Demigod, your escape skills are top-notch."
Yahiko narrowed his eyes, looking at the water stains on the ground, not particularly surprised.
If an old fox like him were so easily killed off, he wouldn't be worthy of dominating the Land of Rain for so many years.
"Wind Release: Gale Palm!"
Yahiko struck out with his hand, and a howling gale erupted, instantly dispersing the remaining poison mist and miasma in the vicinity.
Only then did Nagato stumble over from not far away.
He looked at the surrounding mess and the vanished Hanzou, his Rinnegan filled with shock.
What just happened?
Even the Rinnegan couldn't see clearly, yet Hanzou was blown apart? Even if it was just a clone, that was the Demigod!
"Yahiko... you drove him away?" Nagato's voice was dry.
"I suppose so." Yahiko dismissed his Stand, and his aura receded.
Hearing this, the long-tense Nagato finally couldn't hold on any longer.
The side effects of the Gedo Statue, the severe injuries to his legs, and the mental exhaustion all backlashed at once.
"Ugh..."
Nagato's eyes rolled back, and his body slumped backward.
"Nagato!" Konan cried out.
A powerful arm caught him steadily.
Yahiko propped up Nagato. Looking at his skeletal best friend in his arms, a flicker of pain flashed through his originally cold eyes, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by iron-like determination.
"Konan, fold a larger paper crane. We're withdrawing."
Yahiko commanded calmly, "Nagato's leg injuries can't wait; we must find a place for treatment immediately."
"Okay, okay!" Konan hurriedly wove signs, and countless pieces of paper converged into a giant paper crane.
The rain was still falling.
The three of them boarded the paper crane and soared into the gloomy clouds.
Standing on the back of the paper crane, Yahiko looked back down at the crimson valley below. Corpses littered the ground, and blood flowed freely—that was the price of their former naivety.
"Yahiko..." Nagato opened his eyes weakly, his voice trembling, "Did we... fail?"
"No."
Yahiko turned around, his back to the wind and rain, his eyes more piercing than thunder.
"This isn't failure; it's an awakening."
He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white.
"Everything that happened today proves one thing—simple dialogue and ideals are a joke in this hell."
Yahiko's voice pierced through the rain, echoing between heaven and earth:
"If you want peace, you must first let the world learn pain!"