Biwa Ghostblade swallowed hard, forcing a laugh to ease the suffocating awkwardness.
"Haha… hey, look—does my kunai shine or what?"
Shuoye only smiled.
He didn't strike right away. He simply stood there, still as a statue—his calm so absolute it made the air feel sharp against the skin.
"Do you really think you're still in a position to say things like that?"
His tone was even, yet it carried a weight that allowed no argument.
The moment those words fell, the pressure in the air thickened. Breathing became difficult.
Biwa Ghostblade's heart jolted. The kunai in his hand trembled despite himself. Facing this young man—an Anbu who rarely spoke—his unease swelled into something close to panic.
"I… I'm just carrying out orders!" he stammered, his voice losing strength, hesitation flashing in his eyes.
Aokino let out a quiet breath, relieved Biwa Ghostblade hadn't done anything more reckless.
But he also knew this wasn't over.
With Shuoye's status and strength standing right here, the situation could flip upside down in a heartbeat.
Even after Kirigakure's Anbu had seen through their identities, Shuoye's group showed no fear.
Only a faint, unsettling composure.
Nara Lujiu, wearing that trademark strategist's smile, made a request that sounded simple—yet carried an edge.
"Then please," he said politely, "point us toward the way into Kirigakure."
"Don't joke around!"
The already-tense atmosphere froze.
Biwa Ghostblade almost instinctively refused, snapping back in anger.
"How could I betray my village?!"
But inside, Biwa Ghostblade's thoughts tangled into something far more complicated.
He'd heard rumors—this Uchiha killing god admired talent.
If I show enough loyalty, maybe I'll catch that brat's eye… and he'll take me back to Konoha.
A place without the Blood Mist's chokehold.
A place where jutsu weren't locked behind fear.
A kind of freedom that sounded like heaven.
Once the thought took root, it spread like wildfire.
Aokino realized it too—and felt a twist of regret.
He'd wanted to be the one to offer the gesture first, to earn favor.
Instead, Biwa Ghostblade had rushed in, and now they were trapped in this ridiculous, humiliating standoff.
That bastard Ghostblade…
He cursed in his head like mad, but didn't dare let it show.
Tsunade watched from the side, reading the stubbornness on Biwa Ghostblade's face—and the conflict behind it.
In the shinobi world, loyalty and betrayal often separated by a single breath.
And Biwa Ghostblade's choice was dragging him toward the edge.
Then Shuoye spoke again—cold as iron.
"I see. If you're that determined…"
His gaze remained steady.
"…then you'll pay for that loyalty. Die."
Invisible pressure crashed down over everyone.
It wasn't loud.
It was heavy—like the sky lowering.
In Shuoye's eyes, Biwa Ghostblade's heartbeat and chakra didn't spike at all.
That deliberate stillness was the biggest tell.
Shuoye's lips curved faintly, decision already made.
And in the next instant—
Uchiha Xuanjing appeared behind Biwa Ghostblade like a specter.
A blade flashed.
Clean. Efficient.
Biwa Ghostblade's eyes widened in disbelief. Even at the very end, his mind still raged with a bitter curse—to hell with "loyalty"—but it was too late.
Aokino watched, throat bobbing as he swallowed. His emotions turned into a chaotic mix of dread and clarity.
He understood it perfectly.
What he chose next would decide his future.
Tsunade started to speak, but Nara Lujiu stopped her with a single look.
Shuoye turned to Aokino.
His voice was calm, firm—like a verdict.
"Will you guide us?"
Aokino nodded almost instantly, terrified that even a breath of hesitation would earn him the same ending.
Shuoye glanced at Biwa Ghostblade's corpse and let out a silent, disdainful laugh.
To him, tricks like this—trying to hide behind a mask—were childish.
This world thrived on deception.
Shuoye had long since learned how to see through the deepest layer of intent.
Elsewhere in Kirigakure, news arrived that Mei Terumī had escaped.
Yagura's brows drew together.
A failure at the Blood Mist graduation ceremony was a humiliation they couldn't tolerate.
Yagura didn't hesitate.
"Dead or alive. Bring Mei Terumī back."
But before his order could settle, a quiet voice spoke—right beside them.
"No need."
The words were soft, yet absolute.
"…We're already here."
A chill ran through the room.
Yagura spun around.
Shuoye's group walked in at an unhurried pace, and with them came a pressure that made the entire hall feel like it had stiffened.
Shuoye sat down in the Mizukage's seat as if it belonged to him.
He idly moved a finger, eyes sweeping the room with a faint, amused smile.
"Shuoye Uchiha?"
Yagura's gaze passed over Shuoye's group—then landed on Aokino.
His face turned livid.
What are you idiots doing? You brought their boss straight to my door?
Am I, the Fourth Mizukage, really that worthless to you?
Utakata reacted immediately, grabbing Yagura and pulling him back a few steps, eyes sharp with vigilance.
Signals went out.
In an instant, Kirigakure moved like a machine—shinobi converging on the Mizukage's office until the area was sealed airtight.
Yagura forced down his rage and stared at Shuoye.
"What do you want?" he demanded, voice echoing through the office with hard authority. "Do you really think Kirigakure has no one left?"
Shuoye looked completely unbothered.
He smiled as if he were sitting in some quiet corner of Konoha, not the heart of enemy territory.
He waved a hand, signaling the people behind him to step back, then calmly walked to the Mizukage's seat and sat—without hesitation.
That single action snapped something in the room.
Yagura and the others ground their teeth, fury flaring.
Shuoye acted as though he didn't even notice.
He looked at Yagura, tone mild, confidence unshakable.
"Yagura. Don't be so tense. We didn't come to start a war."
"…We came to talk cooperation."
"Cooperation?" Yagura sneered. "You expect me to believe that? The Uchiha and Kirigakure have never crossed paths. You show up like this—there's obviously an agenda."
"I'm just here to chat." Shuoye's smile carried a hint of mockery. "You're making a big deal out of nothing."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Am I really that frightening to you?"
"That's not the point!" Yagura shot back. "You barged into our territory. That's a provocation."
"Provocation?" Shuoye's grin widened, almost reckless. "I don't see it that way."
His gaze moved over Yagura with casual appraisal, like he was judging a piece of art.
"Since you insist… then let's talk about the real issue."
He paused.
Then his voice dropped—heavy, direct.
"The Four Kage Summit."
"Wood Release isn't invited this time? Konoha isn't invited?" His eyes locked onto Yagura. "Why?"
Yagura's jaw tightened, eyes sharp as blades.
"That's our business. It has nothing to do with you."
Shuoye smiled—yet there was steel under it.
"Nothing to do with me?"
"Then why is the information I received saying you plan to join the other three villages…"
"…to deal with Konoha together?"
Yagura's expression shifted.
He hadn't expected the information to leak.
He glanced toward Nara Lujiu, who looked surprised—then quickly turned that into something closer to respect.
Lujiu understood exactly what had just happened.
With one sentence, Shuoye had nearly forced Yagura to expose himself.
Yagura steadied his mind and tried to turn the blade back.
"Shuoye. You trespassed into Kirigakure. What are you really after? Are you trying to trigger a war between two great villages?"
Shuoye shook his head lightly, his eyes still amused.
"War? That's not what I want."
He let the words breathe, then added, almost lazily:
"But if you want to try… I don't mind playing along."
His smile sharpened.
"Just make sure you're ready for the Fifth Mizukage to take office first."
A cold dread rose in Yagura's chest.
He remembered the news—Third Mizukage captured by Shuoye.
At first, he'd dismissed it, convinced it was some underhanded trick.
Now, standing face-to-face, he finally felt it.
Shuoye's pressure wasn't a rumor.
It was real—tightening around his throat like a hand.
For a horrifying moment, a thought surfaced:
Am I about to become the shortest-serving Mizukage in history?
Seven days?
Yagura crushed the thought down with sheer will.
He couldn't lose.
His dignity—and Kirigakure's pride—would not allow retreat.
He inhaled slowly, forcing composure.
"Shuoye. Don't get arrogant. This is Kirigakure—my territory."
He leaned forward, voice hard.
"You think you can do whatever you want here?"
Shuoye's smile didn't change.
Everything about him said he was in control.
"Yagura, I admire your courage."
Then his gaze hardened.
"But strength decides everything."
"If you want to protect Kirigakure—show me your real skill."
"Otherwise…" Shuoye's voice remained calm. "Kirigakure's future may end up in someone else's hands."
Yagura roared, eyes locked onto Shuoye, fury and unwillingness spilling out.
"You think I'm some reckless waste like the Third Mizukage?"
"You're wrong!"
"I, Yagura, will never let you have your way!"
Before the last word finished, Utakata and Kirigakure's elite moved as one.
Water Release surged in like a tide, rushing to drown Shuoye's group under endless torrents.
Uchiha Xuanjing and Tsunade reacted instantly, each unleashing their own techniques as the clash exploded across the office.
But what shocked everyone—
Even as Uchiha Xuanjing and the others fought fiercely, they began to fall behind.
And Shuoye…
Shuoye stood like an immovable blade.
His strength crushed expectations.
He tore through the pressure with the ease of a war god.
Yagura's heart sank.
This was already beyond their estimates.
If it continued, Kirigakure could be dragged into a disaster it couldn't climb out of.
"All of you—hand seals!"
Yagura barked, trying to mobilize the full weight of Kirigakure.
Shinobi joined together, forming a massive, coordinated Water Release assault.
Water rose like a dragon, carrying a destructive force as it surged toward Shuoye's group.
Shuoye didn't flinch.
He let out a cold laugh, golden light flickering in his eyes.
His form swelled with chakra—
And Susanoo's colossal shadow crashed down over the entire Mizukage office.
"One-Sword Style: Water Severing!"
His roar split the air.
The giant blade fell like judgment.
In that single strike, the Mizukage building was cleaved in two.
Water. Architecture. Shinobi.
Everything was swallowed by that cut.
When the dust finally settled, Yagura and the others stumbled into view, battered and shaken.
Shuoye's gaze slid to Yagura, his smile openly mocking.
"That's it?"
"Or is everyone in Kirigakure this useless?"
Yagura's face darkened.
He hadn't imagined the "piece" he thought he could handle would carry power like this—power that could stand alongside Hiruzen Sarutobi himself.
But this still wasn't his final card.
He slammed a foot down and let out a low, piercing roar.
A shriek ripped up into the sky.
"Water Release: Great Sword Blade!"
A pillar of white light erupted upward, shaping into a massive sword-like edge that crashed down toward Shuoye.
Around them, Kirigakure shinobi couldn't help blurting praise.
"As expected of Mizukage-sama…"
But Shuoye only watched with a faint, contemptuous smile.
He lifted a hand—
And Susanoo's giant fist smashed forward.
The white blade shattered into a rain of broken light.
Susanoo's fist cracked apart as well.
For a beat, the world went quiet.
"…How is that possible?"
Kirigakure shinobi stared, stunned.
Shuoye hadn't dodged.
He'd met it head-on—and broken it.
What kind of monster was this?
Even Yagura's eyes narrowed, surprise flashing through him.
"It's been a long time," he muttered, "since I met someone who could withstand my attack like that."
Shuoye looked at him without emotion, voice steady, authority absolute.
"You think that was strength?"
"I just couldn't be bothered."
"If I took you seriously, you'd already be dead."
Yagura's anger flared into humiliation.
His teeth clenched.
He glared at Shuoye and demanded, voice strained:
"Shuoye… do you really have to go this far?"
Shuoye didn't answer.
He raised his right index finger.
And flicked it.
A white orb shot out like a bullet.
The next instant, it traced a graceful, cruel arc through the air—
Straight toward Yagura's forehead.
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