Chapter 380: If You Want to Harm Nagato, You Must Step Over My Dead Body First
The relentless downpour over Amegakure had finally ceased.
Swoosh! Swoosh!
Two silhouettes blurred across the rippling surface of the water, coming to a halt just behind Uchiha Akira.
"Hokage-sama."
Kakuzu stood tall, casually tucking a heavy metal bounty box under his right arm. His left hand dragged a massive, writhing bundle of black threads. Thick tendrils of his Earth Grudge Fear had bound Hidan completely, wrapping the immortal fanatic into a tight, cocoon-like shape that resembled a massive black dumpling. He dragged the immortal across the puddles like a dead dog.
Behind the treasurer, several more thick black tentacles coiled tightly around the unconscious forms of Kisame Hoshigaki and Juzo Biwa.
A few paces away, Jiraiya touched down. The Toad Sage stared at Uchiha Akira, his weathered face etched with a deeply complex expression.
"This power..." Jiraiya muttered, shaking his head. "It is truly exaggerated!"
He offered a bitter, self-deprecating smile.
While Jiraiya wallowed in his existential dread, Kakuzu remained entirely pragmatic. The bounty hunter unceremoniously hurled his three high-value captives onto the damp ground at Akira's feet, his stitched face twisting into a fawning, thoroughly uncharacteristic smile.
"My Lord, I did not fail the mission." Kakuzu bowed his head slightly. "These three are not dead yet, though they are hovering right on the edge."
He casually kicked the writhing black cocoon at his feet.
"Especially this one," Kakuzu added, his tone dripping with annoyance. "His mouth was entirely too foul, so I took the liberty of sewing it shut."
A series of muffled, furious grunts echoed from deep within the black threads, proving that Hidan was still violently cursing them all from inside his makeshift prison.
Akira cast a cool, indifferent glance over the three defeated S-Rank missing-nin.
"Well done."
Akira raised his right hand. A faint, ethereal light flickered to life across his palm.
An invisible, heavy fluctuation in the atmosphere instantly crushed down upon the three captives on the ground.
"Six Paths Sealing: Spirit Binding."
The very fabric of space twisted.
A pitch-black vortex tore open in the air above them, expanding outward like the gaping maw of a primordial beast waiting to feast.
Hidan, Kisame, and Juzo were instantly swallowed by the overwhelming, irresistible suction. They vanished into the crushing depths of the void without so much as a final grunt.
A heartbeat later, a surge of pure, refined energy flowed backward from the spatial tear, sinking directly into Akira's body.
'Though it is only a little, it is better than nothing,' Akira thought.
He slowly clenched his fist, feeling the subtle surge of vitality coursing through his veins. Satisfied, he lowered his hand and turned his piercing gaze toward Kakuzu and Jiraiya.
"Let us go."
Akira's dark eyes shifted toward the desolate outskirts west of Amegakure.
"Let us go meet the true 'god'."
The true hiding place of Nagato and Konan was not located within the towering, metallic skyscrapers of the Hidden Rain. It was a backup facility, buried deep outside the village limits.
A faint, suffocating stench of mildew and rusted iron hung heavy in the damp air.
Akira made no attempt to mask his presence or suppress his chakra. He descended directly from the sky, landing heavily at the concealed entrance of the underground bunker with his two subordinates in tow.
Without a moment of hesitation, Akira stepped into the dark, sloping passage.
Kakuzu and Jiraiya followed closely behind.
With every step they took deeper into the earth, the weight pressing down on Jiraiya's chest grew heavier. The atmosphere down here was suffocating, thick with the lingering scent of decay and stagnant chakra.
Finally, the narrow tunnel opened up.
They stood before a massive, reinforced iron door.
Akira did not bother reaching for the handle. He simply raised his leg and delivered a casual, devastating kick.
BOOM!
The heavy iron door buckled inward, tearing off its reinforced hinges. It slammed violently against the stone floor inside, kicking up a massive cloud of choking gray dust.
Silhouetted against the dim light of the corridor, the three intruders stepped into the cavernous room.
When the dust finally settled, Kakuzu froze in his tracks.
He stared at the 'thing' strapped into the mechanical wheelchair in the center of the room. He blinked his mismatched eyes, leaning forward to look again, certain his vision was deceiving him.
"This..." Kakuzu pointed a trembling finger at Nagato, his gruff voice dripping with utter disbelief and deep absurdity. "This is the leader?"
He looked back at Akira, then back at the skeletal figure.
"This is the arrogant Pain who never shuts up about being a 'god'?"
The creature before them looked like a half-dead ghost. He was emaciated to the point of horror, his skin stretched tight over a skeletal frame. Thick, ominous black chakra receivers were violently pierced through his spine and back, anchoring him to the massive mechanical contraption.
If not for those iconic, rippling purple Rinnegan, Kakuzu would have assumed he was looking at a dried corpse freshly dug from a shallow grave.
"So I have been working for a crippled invalid this entire time?" Kakuzu muttered, feeling a deep, burning insult to his own intelligence.
He had always assumed the leader of the Akatsuki was an unmatched, physically dominant monster. To see the true body reduced to such a frail, pathetic state shattered every illusion he held.
Only those purple eyes still radiated a chilling, oppressive glow that made the air in the room feel heavy.
"Nagato..."
Jiraiya's voice cracked.
The Toad Sage stared at the skeletal figure, the edges of his eyes burning red.
His mind flashed back decades. He remembered a timid, gentle child with bright red hair, a boy whose heart bled for the suffering of others.
How had he been reduced to this grotesque machinery of death?
"Are you... truly Nagato?" Jiraiya took a heavy, trembling step forward, his voice barely a hoarse whisper.
In the mechanical walker, the skeletal figure slowly raised his head.
Nagato stared at Jiraiya. His sunken face was entirely devoid of warmth, his expression locked in a mask of absolute, chilling apathy.
"Jiraiya-sensei."
The voice was raspy, hollowed out by years of suffering.
"You are too late."
Nagato's chest heaved slightly.
"Far too late."
"If you had come fifteen years earlier, perhaps Yahiko would not have died." Nagato's purple eyes locked onto his former master. "Perhaps, I would not have become like this today."
Jiraiya flinched as if he had been struck by a physical blow. A crushing, suffocating wave of guilt crashed over him, stealing the breath from his lungs.
"I am sorry... Nagato..."
"Enough."
Nagato cut him off, his tone sharp and utterly devoid of forgiveness.
He slowly turned his head, shifting his piercing gaze past the broken sage to lock onto the man standing at the very front.
"Uchiha Akira."
Nagato's voice dropped to a dangerous register.
"You won."
"Have you come to gloat over the defeated?"
Akira stood perfectly still, his hands resting casually in his pockets. He looked down at the crippled god with eyes as calm and cold as a frozen lake.
"I merely think you are pathetic."
Akira took a slow, measured step forward. The sound of his footsteps echoed like a death knell in the quiet cavern.
"You possess the eyes of a god, yet you have allowed yourself to be entirely blinded by your own petty hatred."
Akira's gaze swept over the black receivers embedded in Nagato's back.
"You have been used by others. A pawn dancing on a string for your entire miserable life."
"Nagato." Akira's voice was a soft, cruel blade. "Your so-called peace is nothing more than a childish joke, woven by the very people manipulating you."
"Shut up!!"
Nagato erupted.
The sudden surge of fury forced him to push against the armrests of his wheelchair. He tried to force his broken body to stand, but his atrophied muscles betrayed him. His legs buckled instantly, and he collapsed powerlessly back into the seat, his chest heaving as he gasped for air.
"You... you are not allowed to insult my dream!"
Whoosh!
A sudden storm of white erupted in the dim cavern.
Thousands of crisp paper sheets swirled through the air, converging in a blinding flurry. Konan materialized from the storm, placing herself directly between Akira and the crippled Nagato.
"You will not take another step toward him!"
Konan gritted her teeth. The paper sheets behind her back rapidly folded and multiplied, expanding outward to form two massive, angelic wings. Her chakra flared, sharp and deadly.
"Unless I die!" Konan's voice rang out, trembling with absolute resolve. "Otherwise, no one will harm Nagato!"
The air in the cavern instantly solidified.
Konan's chakra spiked violently. It was the desperate, burning aura of a kunoichi preparing to throw away her life.
"Paper Person of God Technique!"
The paper wings flared. Hidden among the thousands of pristine white sheets were countless explosive tags, their edges already glowing red, emitting a chorus of dangerous, hissing sparks.
She knew the truth. She knew she was absolutely no match for the monster standing before her. Uchiha Akira was a force of nature.
But for Nagato, she was more than willing to burn everything she had left to ash.
"Konan, fall back!" Nagato roared from behind her, his voice cracking with panic. "You are no match for him! Run!"
Konan did not move a single inch. Her amber eyes remained locked onto Akira, burning with a fierce, unbreakable determination.
"How touching," Akira remarked.
His tone was light, carrying a trace of dry, mocking admiration.
"Since you are so eager to throw your life away." Akira's eyes narrowed, the crimson of his Sharingan bleeding into his irises. "I will grant your wish."
He slowly raised his right hand from his pocket.
He spread his five fingers wide, aiming his open palm directly at the paper angel.
"Bansho Ten'in."
A terrifying, invisible gravitational force violently erupted from his palm.
In Akira's grasp, this divine power was not a wild, destructive storm. It was compressed, precisely controlled, and focused entirely on a single, inescapable point.
Konan let out a sharp gasp of shock.
Her feet left the ground. The explosive tags fizzled out as the sheer gravitational pressure crushed her jutsu. Her body was yanked forward through the air, completely out of her control.
Smack.
Akira's hand clamped shut around Konan's slender neck.
He hoisted her effortlessly into the air, her feet dangling inches above the stone floor.
"Ugh..."
Konan gagged, her hands flying up to claw desperately at the iron grip crushing her windpipe.
She kicked wildly in the air, her boots scraping uselessly against Akira's armor.
Her beautiful, traditionally cold and proud face twisted in agony, rapidly flushing a deep, suffocating red as the oxygen was violently choked from her lungs.
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