Chapter 51 — The Eight-Tails, Gyūki! Descends!
The infiltration went almost too smoothly.
Even after the Third Raikage had withdrawn a large portion of Kumogakure's forces, there should still have been a considerable number of shinobi left within the village. Yet only after truly slipping inside did Danzō realize the truth—
Kumogakure, at this moment, was like an old suit of armor.
From the outside it still looked thick and impenetrable, but every seam leaked wind.
"Proceed according to plan."
At Danzō's quiet command, four members of the squad melted into the shadows of the streets. Their task was simple: scatter in different directions and sow chaos, then withdraw the moment the signal was given.
At Danzō's side now remained only two Shimura-clan jōnin disguised as Kumogakure ANBU—and the jinchūriki boy, completely shrouded in a cloak, trembling uncontrollably.
They walked along the rough, cold stone streets. Buildings carved directly into the mountainsides loomed on either side, casting oppressive shadows.
Danzō deliberately controlled his pace—neither fast nor slow—ensuring that the cloaked figure beside him was exposed for as long as possible to the eyes of the villagers they passed.
At first, only a few glances landed on them, curious, probing.
But as the strange procession moved deeper into the village, whispers began to spread like a sickness.
"Look at that getup…" "That thing—it's that monster!" "Why would they bring it back into the village?!" "Stay away! Didn't you hear what happened last time…?" "Why bring something so dangerous here?"
Fear. Disgust. Rejection.
The villagers' murmurs were like icy senbon, stabbing relentlessly into the boy beneath the cloak.
His body began to tremble uncontrollably. Every step felt like walking across blades. Beneath the hood's shadow, the numbness in his eyes was gradually swallowed by terror and overwhelming unease.
At just the right moment, Danzō leaned slightly closer and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear:
"Do you hear them, brat?"
"They all fear you. They all hate you. To this village, you're nothing more than an uncontrollable problem…"
The boy's breathing turned ragged and uneven, his shoulders shaking despite himself.
All along the way, Danzō was like a murmuring demon, steadily corroding the boy's mind.
"Look carefully. The way they stare at you—there's nothing there but fear." "To us, you were never a companion. You're just a weapon. A disgusting monster." "And the moment you lose control… we'll erase you without hesitation."
The boy's body quivered beneath the cloak. His breathing grew sharper, more frantic. Dark crimson tailed-beast chakra began to seep out, flickering at the edges of control—before being forcibly suppressed again.
The group continued forward until they reached the most open plaza at the heart of the village.
This was the core of Kumogakure.
When one looked up, the Raikage Building towered above—looming, unyielding, and watching.
The crowd around them grew denser by the second.
Countless startled gazes converged on the plaza. Several actual Kumogakure ANBU sensed something amiss and began moving in quickly, their expressions darkening.
Danzō knew—it was time.
He stopped abruptly.
—SWISH—
Before anyone could react, Danzō spun around. His single arm shot out like lightning and violently tore the hood from the boy's head.
The cloak slipped away, revealing a face pale from years of confinement. Under the harsh sunlight, the jinchūriki squinted instinctively—like a frightened young beast dragged into the open.
"Look closely!"
Danzō's voice rose sharply, cold and heavy like an iron hammer smashing down on the square, crushing all other noise:
"This is the so-called ultimate weapon created by our village's leaders—a monster who cannot even control himself, a walking bomb that could kill us all at any moment!"
"—WHAA—!"
The crowd erupted.
Screams, shouts, and sharp gasps of terror collided in a chaotic roar. Those once merely curious stares twisted instantly into naked fear and revulsion, crashing over the boy like a merciless tide.
Nearby Kumogakure shinobi finally reacted, drawing their blades and charging forward in fury—only to be intercepted by the two Shimura jōnin, who locked them into a brutal melee in the blink of an eye.
Danzō ignored the fighting behind him.
In the chaos, something utterly deranged surfaced in his gaze.
—SHING—
His blade left its sheath.
Before anyone could comprehend what was happening, the cold steel plunged brutally into the boy's lower back.
"Monster! I'll eliminate you—for the sake of the village!"
Danzō roared, his performance flawless—perhaps because it was no act at all.
Clad in Kumogakure ANBU attire, he looked exactly like a shinobi driven mad by hatred for a tailed-beast weapon, pushed to extremity by obsession and fear.
"Why…?"
Blood poured from the boy's mouth. His body curled inward as agony ripped through him. With immense effort, he turned his head, staring at the cold mask behind him.
In his eyes—disbelief. Years of buried grievance. And an ocean of rage and pain finally bursting free.
"I… am not… a monster!!!"
BOOOOOM—!!!
It was as if a slumbering beast had been violently awakened.
An indescribably terrifying chakra detonated outward from the boy's body. Crimson, violent, overflowing with annihilating intent—the tailed beast's chakra surged like a physical tsunami.
The sky darkened.
The earth convulsed.
"SKREEOOONGK"
A nonhuman roar tore itself from the boy's throat as his skin split apart before Danzō's eyes.
A massive, dark-red spectral tail—slick with chakra and viscous energy—erupted from his back and lashed out faster than sight itself.
CRACK—!
Danzō had no time to evade.
Bone shattered with a sickening sound as his body was swatted away like a rag doll, smashing into a nearby building and fracturing the wall into a spiderweb of cracks.
Blood gushed from his mouth, ears—and from beneath the bandages covering his right eye socket.
His chest caved inward grotesquely.
Life drained from his broken body at terrifying speed.
Yet in the final moments before darkness swallowed his consciousness, what reflected in his remaining eye was not fear—
—but his creation.
Bone surged. Flesh expanded.
An immense silhouette—eight colossal tails unfurling—coalesced amid the storm of destruction. The beast tore free of its restraints and reared up in the heart of Kumogakure, bellowing toward the heavens.
"ROOOOOAR—!!!"
The Eight-Tails, Gyūki, had descended.
The roar alone was like countless thunderclaps exploding at once, drowning out every other sound.
A single sweep of a massive tentacle pulverized nearby buildings like sandcastles. Stone, timber, and people were hurled screaming into the air.
Shrieks of terror and agony echoed endlessly.
Kumogakure's most prosperous district became a living hell—blood, smoke, and ruin everywhere.
At the storm's center lay Danzō.
Violent chakra currents tore at his clothes and bandages as if trying to grind him into dust.
And yet… he laughed.
Gazing up at the apocalyptic beast overhead, his lone eye held no fear, no regret—only a twisted, near-maniacal serenity.
"Heh… hehehe…"
He had deceived everyone.
The squad.
Even the two Shimura jōnin at his side.
He had never intended to leave alive.
There was no retreat signal.
Never was.
"Do you see it… Senju Morin… Sarutobi…?"
"This… is… my… Will of Fire…"
His thoughts faded.
Crying villagers. Screaming shinobi. Collapsing structures.
All merged into the grandest requiem imaginable.
As Gyūki roared once more, a pitch-black Tailed Beast Ball began forming in its maw.
Ravenous chakra surged outward—swallowing Danzō's body, the plaza, the screams, the despair—
—everything.
The only thing left behind…
was the blade still embedded in the Eight-Tails' flesh.
(DAMN Danzō was badass in this one. 😬🙌)