The roles of hunter and hunted had flipped in an instant. That brief exchange had been incredibly precarious for Ui.
In his previous battles, he had almost always held the speed advantage. Being faster allowed him to seize the initiative, and combined with the paralyzing nature of his Lightning Release, he usually ended fights with a single, lethal blow.
Now, facing a fellow speed-type specialist for the first time, he found himself struggling to find his rhythm.
If he used every tool at his disposal—including his non-shinobi abilities—killing this man would be trivial. But he wouldn't.
Ninjutsu against Ninjutsu. Shinobi against Shinobi.
This was a rule Ui had established for himself. One might ask: Isn't it stupid to have a "cheat" and not use it? Why play fair in a life-or-death struggle?
It wasn't about fairness or honor. Ui's persistence had a very logical, practical purpose: cultivation.
He knew that eventually, he would face enemies far more powerful than this mercenary. There were "monsters" in this world who could slice a planet in half as easily as a watermelon. If he relied solely on a "cheat code" now, he would be helpless when he encountered someone whose "cheat" was better than his own. To survive the endgame, he needed to master the fundamental logic of shinobi combat today.
"We"
"Lightning and Fire. According to the intel we've gathered, those are your two affinities," the masked Fuma said, standing his ground. He didn't chase after Ui's retreat; instead, he watched him with the predatory confidence of someone looking at a caged animal. "Unfortunately, the Land of Rain is the worst environment for you. Neither your sparks nor your flames can reach their full potential here."
The guy is Jonin-level, but does he really think the weather is enough to settle this? Ui thought. He didn't bother responding, but his mind snagged on a single word the man used:
"We."
One doesn't say "we" when they are alone. It suggested a collective.
A chilling thought surfaced: Is there an organization out there specifically gathering intelligence on me? Ui didn't consider himself a major player yet. Why would anyone be tracking a "brat" from the Leaf so closely?
He pushed the question aside. He couldn't capture and interrogate this man; holding back against a Jonin was a recipe for suicide. He had to be all-in.
Ui didn't fear the struggle. He wasn't bloodthirsty, but he was war-hardened. He didn't retreat; instead, he flared his lightning and charged once more.
The masked ninja didn't meet him head-on this time. He backpedaled, maintaining a ten-meter gap.
As he moved, he flicked a kunai. Ui didn't even slow down; he simply tilted his head, letting the projectile whistle past. Projectiles at this range were rarely more than a distraction.
Suddenly, a warning bell rang in his mind. Ui reached back with his right hand—sparking with the Chidori Nagashi—and caught the same kunai between two fingers just as it was about to bite into the back of his neck.
Chakra threads? Puppetry? No. It was simpler. A transparent wire was attached to the ring of the kunai. In a normal environment, it might have been invisible, but in this deluge, the raindrops clinging to the string gave it away like a diamond necklace in the dark.
Ui tossed the kunai aside and closed the gap.
Five meters.
The mercenary couldn't outrun a forward charge while moving backward. Seeing Ui close in, he abandoned his tools and wove a set of hand signs.
Ui recognized the seals instantly. As the Fuma took a deep breath, Ui's own hands were already a blur, finishing his counter-jutsu in near-perfect synchronization.
"Water Style: Wild Water Wave!" "Fire Style: Fire Dragon Flame Bullet!"
A high-pressure torrent of water erupted from the Fuma's mouth, but it was met by a concentrated, arrow-like blast of white-hot fire.
Theoretically, Water beats Fire. But that's a general rule for equal-rank jutsu. Ui was using a B-rank Fire Style against a C-rank Water Style.
The elements collided at point-blank range. Even through his mask, Ui felt the searing heat. For a brief second, his rain-soaked clothes and hair were bone-dry.
The air vanished, replaced by a suffocating vacuum as the Fire Dragon incinerated the water wave and every raindrop in the vicinity. In the heart of the icy storm, a massive, scalding cloud of steam exploded outward, swallowing them both.