Waters of the Land of Waves.
Beneath deep-blue swells, undercurrents churned. Gale winds twisted the fog into coils, and every breath carried a rancid, fishy salt that clung to the throat.
Three monsters, bodies pitch-black beneath stark white masks, floated in midair and blocked Zabuza's path.
The wind cut cold.
With a violent stomp on the sea's surface, Zabuza roared and spun the Executioner's Blade like a windmill.
The crescent of steel shredded the mist, dragging a brutal pressure wave behind it as it hacked straight toward Kakuzu's face.
Kakuzu simply stared back with those yellow-green eyes. His stitched-up face held not a trace of emotion.
He did not defend.
He did not dodge.
As if an attack from one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen was nothing more than routine.
And it truly was.
The instant Zabuza forced himself into a counterattack, countless hair-thin strands burst up from the rolling sea, hooking tightly around his ankles.
Whoosh.
The Executioner's Blade jerked, dragged by gravity into a downward chop.
The edge skimmed past Kakuzu's nose by a hair's breadth, a strike that could cleave a tiger in two.
And yet it could not even scratch his skin.
Only the gust from the blade made Kakuzu's collar sway lightly.
Zabuza's assault ended there.
In most taijutsu clashes, strength and speed are not absolute. Distance is what decides everything. That tiny margin, that sliver of space, becomes a chasm no one can cross.
Boom!
A pitch-black vortex twisted on the sea. A masked creature, its body entirely made of threads, surfaced from beneath the water.
Its mask was white with deep-blue accents, marked with patterns like an octopus. From beneath it, endless black strands sprayed out, crawling up Zabuza's ankles like infection.
Razor-thin tendrils cinched his limbs and throat and hoisted him into the air like a mosquito caught in a spider's web.
"Ghk!"
Zabuza's arms and legs spasmed violently. The crushing pressure on his throat turned pain into panic. He twisted and fought, but it was useless. He could only watch Kakuzu approach at a slow, unhurried pace.
"W-why…"
His neck was nearly cut through by the tightening strands. His eyes were bloodshot, his face turning a dark, bruised purple, vicious as a demon.
"You once attempted to assassinate the Mizukage. Your head sells for a good price in the black market. The Executioner's Blade is trash as a weapon, but the Seven Swordsmen's legacy gives it collector value. Easy to move. Easy money."
Kakuzu's deep voice held a thin thread of pleasure. He was in a good mood.
Ever since he obtained Earth Grudge Fear, his body had become something completely unlike a normal human's. Most human desires meant nothing to him anymore.
Over the long, lonely stretch of his life, only three moments could still make him feel anything close to happiness.
Third place was the moment he finally captured prey he had hunted for a long time.
Watching the trapped victim struggle for survival, exposing every ugly face they had between life and death until they broke into furious despair, that process was amusing in its own way.
Second place was collecting a high-quality, still-beating heart.
A new chakra seed entering his body brought the intoxicating rush of power. A living heart thumped with raw life force, and even his aged spirit seemed to drink in a little freshness.
But first place, the strongest joy, was the instant he turned a head into bounty.
The moment he saw those crisp bills, still smelling of ink, a special satisfaction spread through him.
"The black market… y-you're Kakuzu…"
His brain throbbed. A ringing filled his ears. Zabuza finally pieced together who this black-bearded corpse was.
After defecting from Kirigakure, Zabuza had been a frequent visitor to the black market. He had heard the legends.
Kakuzu.
Active for more than sixty years. Mission completion rate near perfect. A kingpin among underground contractors.
It was said every broker who worked with him aged and died, replaced again and again, while Kakuzu remained on the front lines without slowing for even a moment. The number of jobs he had taken could no longer be counted.
Because he showed no sign of aging over decades, the old black-market hands called him "the one who lives as long as heaven and earth."
"You've heard of me…"
"You still talking? This is boring as hell!"
A voice, bold and mocking, drifted out of the fog and cut Kakuzu off.
Kakuzu's expression darkened. He glanced toward the tall figure taking shape within the mist.
"Hidan. If you interrupt my hunt again, I'll sew your head into my crotch."
"Wooow, scary!"
A giant crimson scythe hung behind him, its blade dragging through the water and drawing ripples across the surface.
Hidan stepped out of the fog with his hands raised in exaggerated surrender. His gray hair was slicked back, his pale purple eyes wild, his handsome face split by a feral grin. He did not look afraid in the slightest.
Because he could not die.
Kakuzu knew exactly what his partner relied on. He could not be bothered arguing with this immortal freak.
You could not kill him, and he did not fear death. You never got to see him struggle. Torture only made Hidan feel better, because he worshipped it like a prayer.
It was infuriatingly unsolvable.
Kakuzu still did not know where Pain had found such a monster.
He looked away and returned his attention to Zabuza, who had finally stopped struggling in midair.
"Any last words?"
"Ghk…!"
Zabuza's throat convulsed. He could barely breathe. Despair pooled deep in his eyes.
The only being qualified to fight this stitched-up zombie, that other monster, was far away on the Land of Waves' shoreline.
In his frantic escape, Zabuza had lost all sense of distance, but he knew it was at least more than two nautical miles away.
That meant over four kilometers on land.
Even if someone could see the mist, they would never make it in time. And that blind girl would not necessarily risk her life to save him anyway.
Not everyone was Haku.
This time, he was dead for sure.
"I… I know one of Orochimaru's secrets."
"Oh?"
A cold smile tugged at Kakuzu's mouth. He had expected the Demon of the Mist to be tougher, but apparently he was no different from the other missing-nin Kakuzu had killed.
"That traitor Orochimaru?"
Even Hidan perked up with interest. Orochimaru's kill order was still posted at the top of Akatsuki's list.
Kakuzu ignored Hidan's sudden enthusiasm. Compared to bounty, Pain's directives mattered more.
He loosened Earth Grudge Fear's watery restraints slightly and lifted his chin at Zabuza.
"Talk. If your secret has value, I'll spare your life."
"Cough… stop lying."
Zabuza gulped air greedily, refusing to believe a word of it.
Kakuzu did not deny it. He only stared, still and heavy. This man seemed different from the missing-nin Kakuzu usually killed.
"Orochimaru has an item. They say it's connected to the Sage of Six Paths."
The moment his breathing steadied, Zabuza spoke the information he had overheard on the Hope.
"The Sage of Six Paths!"
Hidan and Kakuzu exchanged a look, both seeing the shock in the other's eyes.
In the past, they would have laughed. The Sage of Six Paths was a myth. Whether he even existed was debatable, let alone some treasure surviving a thousand years.
But after witnessing the terror of Pain's Rinnegan, their worldview had been reshaped. Anything tied to the Sage demanded caution.
"What item? How do you know?" Kakuzu asked, still suspicious.
At a moment like this, it was likely Zabuza was inventing lies. Yet it would be strange to drag Orochimaru and the Sage into the story for no reason.
"I don't know exactly what it is. Orochimaru stole it and was hunted by Kirigakure's ANBU captain. I was there. I heard it was a relic of the Kaguya Clan."
Zabuza's gaze turned distant.
"Orochimaru also had a Kaguya clansman with him. A kid named Kimimaro."
As he spoke, memory surfaced like cold seawater. In his dreams, he always returned to that ship. To Haku. To that trembling, thin back that had stood in front of him.
If only he had never boarded it.
Kakuzu watched Zabuza's seriousness and believed a little more.
"True or false, your message still won't buy your life."
"I know."
Zabuza lifted his chin, looking at Kakuzu with raw sincerity.
"If you're only doing missions for money, Orochimaru's head, plus a treasure tied to the Sage of Six Paths, should be enough to make you move, right?"
"So you want me to kill Orochimaru for you," Kakuzu said, understanding at last. "Using this as bait."
"Not for revenge."
Zabuza shook his head and finally spoke his real request.
"If you ever kill Orochimaru, and you find that treasure, then for the sake of this information, spare a girl named Haku."
"Haku?" Kakuzu frowned. "One of Orochimaru's subordinates?"
Zabuza nodded, staring up at the pale-gray sky.
That day had been like this too, endless sea, gray heavens, his body broken and dying. Haku had stood in front of him without hesitation.
She had sworn loyalty to Orochimaru for the rest of her life, trading that vow for his survival.
"She's not anyone's subordinate," Zabuza said, voice rough but unwavering. "She's the most important person in my life."
For a heartbeat, something moved in Kakuzu's eyes, as if a buried memory had been stirred. Then he nodded cleanly.
"Haku. Fine. I'll remember."
Hearing that, Zabuza drew a slow breath, closed his eyes, and tilted his head back, accepting death with calm.
Kakuzu looked at the man ready to die and felt a hint of appreciation. Black threads spilled from his wrist.
If you want to save someone important, then do more with what you have.
He placed his palm lightly against Zabuza's chest. The black tendrils instantly pierced skin and burrowed into flesh.
"I'm taking your heart."
"Nngh!"
A howl tore from Zabuza's throat. The calm cracked like glass. The black strands crawling inside him felt like hands ripping at his soul.
No.
His heart was being pulled out of his body.
He felt the tug in his chest. His heart thundered. The seed within it vomited chakra wildly, flooding his chakra network, rushing into every limb.
But the bindings tightened harder.
He could not move at all.
It was over.
"No… that's not…"
"Earth Grudge Fear!"
"Aaaah!"
A scream, panicked and furious, exploded nearby, followed by several shrill cries of pain.
With his eyes still shut, Zabuza felt the agony in his chest suddenly lessen. The pull on his heart and vessels weakened, as if everything had slid back into place.
What?
Zabuza snapped his eyes open.
Before he could understand anything, the tendrils binding his limbs abruptly lost strength. He dropped from the air and crashed down.
Years of battle instinct took over.
He endured the lingering pain, spread his limbs, and poured chakra into his body, landing like a lizard on the water's surface. His right hand still clenched the Executioner's Blade.
Ripples spread across the sea.
The water around him had turned a faint pink. Blood was bleeding into the deep blue.
He lifted his head, and what he saw made him instinctively stop breathing.
On the raging sea, two figures in black cloaks with red clouds stood where they were.
Kakuzu, the so-called man who lived as long as heaven and earth, was missing the entire upper half of his face. His throat, spine, lungs, liver, carotid artery, subclavian artery, kidneys, heart, the human body's most fatal points, all displayed tiny hollowed-out cavities.
Hidan was worse.
His body was riddled with holes too numerous to count, blood running down him in sheets, dyeing the ocean red.
They were dead?
Kakuzu, who had dominated the black market for decades, and Hidan, whose abilities were unknown but clearly monstrous, were just… dead?
Zabuza stared, disbelieving, and then realized how stupid the thought was.
They looked like a honeycomb. How could they possibly be alive?
But who had saved him?
Those shots had hit too many vital points with terrifying precision and frequency. Zabuza was untouched. Kakuzu and Hidan were riddled with cavities.
That could not be luck.
Zabuza was certain he did not have that kind of luck.
He scanned the area.
No one.
The three masked creatures hovering in the air were still there, thread-bodies flapping in the wind, full of holes like tattered banners. The one on the sea's surface was in worse shape, its mask shattered, its body collapsed into a puddle of black sludge.
"Huh?"
Dead monsters turning into mud?
Zabuza's pupils tightened. He looked up.
Sure enough, the cavities in the floating monsters were shrinking. Threads squirmed to fill the holes, repairing themselves. The masked creatures began moving again.
Whoosh!
A cutting sound tore through the air behind his head.
Zabuza bent at the waist so hard it felt like his spine would snap, dodging by a hair. At the same time, an arm flew over his head, and he saw the writhing threads at its severed end.
Kakuzu was still alive.
The realization detonated in Zabuza's mind, turning his blood to ice.
Clang!
A crimson scythe, nearly as large as the Executioner's Blade, swept in.
The edge carved open Zabuza's back with perfect precision.
Drip. Drip.
Blood ran down the blade's edge, unstoppable.
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