The realisation of the situation slammed into Raiju like a physical blow, stealing his breath more effectively than any Raiton punch. "Damm
The realisation of the situation slammed into Raiju like a physical blow, stealing his breath more effectively than any Raiton punch.
"Dammit!"
The curse ripped from him, raw and guttural, echoing in the genjutsu-shattered silence of the sensory hub. His single, piercing yellow eye widened, the scar tissue around it pulling taut.
'He's an Uchiha!'
The spinning crimson tomoe, the unnatural calm, the sheer, suffocating pressure of the chakra field – it all clicked with horrifying clarity. Then, the secondary connection ignited, a spark of pure dread: the shock of red hair. A combination as unique as it was infamous.
"Red hair… and the Sharingan… Don't tell me—!"
The name, the nightmare Kumo had tried to bury after Miyahira's devastation two years prior, crystallised in his mind.
Uzumaki Renjiro.
Renjiro, uncoiled from his lotus position with languid grace, like a predator rising from a nap. The smile playing on his lips was neither friendly nor cruel, but deeply unsettling in its certainty.
"It seems you finally recognised me," he said, his voice smooth, cutting through Raiju's stunned silence. "Saves time on introductions."
He stretched slightly, the movement deceptively casual, but his Sharingan never wavered, pinning Raiju in place. "Now, since we have that out of the way…"He paused, tilting his head. "…let's make a bet."
'A bet?'
The word clanged discordantly in Raiju's tactical mind, already scrambling to reassess the catastrophic situation. 'Why is he talking about bets? Is this psychological warfare? A distraction?'
His thoughts raced, a whirlwind of contingency plans colliding with the cold, immobilising truth: they were trapped in a room with the shinobi who had, according to Kumo's classified (and heavily redacted) reports, fought the Two-Tails Jinchuriki to a standstill and levelled a quarter of Miyahira in the process. The sheer, overwhelming power radiating from Renjiro wasn't just a threat; it was a natural disaster contained within human form.
Raiju's Lightning Release Chakra Mode instinctively flared beneath his skin, a crackling shield of volatile energy, but it felt pitifully small against the ocean of Renjiro's presence.
'Focus! Protect the team! Find a weakness! How do you fight a storm?!'
Renjiro took a step forward, the air seeming to thicken around him. "Despite your rather rude inclination to gang up on me," he began, his tone almost conversational, "I'm feeling generous today. So—"
"FZZZT-THUNK! THUNK! THUNK! THUNK!"
Four distinct sounds, sharp and final, cut him off. Not attacks, but impacts. Raiju flinched, his gaze snapping towards his comrades. Shirakumo, Kano, Kurotsuchi, and the Shadow lay sprawled on the metal floor, having collapsed the moment Raiju's attack shocked them out of the genjutsu that had held them immobile.
They gasped, coughing, limbs trembling as sensation and motor control flooded back, their eyes wide with disorientation and primal terror. A scrambled to his feet, lightning flickering erratically around him.
"Wha—?! Genjutsu?! When—?"
Renjiro merely chuckled, a low, dry sound. 'Does he have something against monologues? Rude indeed.'
The thought flickered through his mind with detached amusement.
Seeing his team vulnerable, confusion warring with returning awareness, Raiju's tactical mind snapped into overdrive.
'He needs eye contact for the deep genjutsu! I need to keep him focused on ME!'
The plan formed instantly, born of desperation and protective fury. "DON'T LOOK AT HIS EYES!" Raiju roared, the command cracking like thunder in the confined space.
"GO! SECURE THE DEPOT! NOW! I'LL HANDLE HIM!"
He didn't wait for acknowledgement this time. He moved. Lightning Release Chakra Mode surged, enveloping him in a blinding nimbus of white-blue energy.
"CRACKLE-FZZZZT!"
The air screamed as he crossed the distance in a microsecond, fist aimed not at Renjiro's head, but at his centre mass – a blow designed to stagger, to occupy, to force the Uchiha's attention solely on him.
'I need to keep him busy! Keep his eyes on me! To give them a chance to escape, to regroup, to fight the fires!'
Renjiro didn't dodge the first punch. He flowed. His body seemed to blur, not with speed, but with impossible, liquid grace, slipping past Raiju's fist like smoke.
"WHOOSH."
The crackling knuckles passed through empty air. A knee came up, lightning-fast. Renjiro pivoted, the knee grazing his flak jacket harmlessly. "Persistent," Renjiro murmured, his voice calm amidst the storm of Raiju's assault.
"And rude. Very rude."
As Raiju unleashed a furious barrage – crackling jabs, sizzling hooks, a devastating lightning-charged roundhouse kick – Renjiro weaved and deflected with effortless, almost contemptuous ease. He used minimal movement, precise blocks with his forearms coated in shimmering blue chakra, subtle shifts of his torso that made Raiju's most powerful blows glance off or miss entirely.
"THUD! SCRAPE! WHOOSH!"
The impacts echoed, but Renjiro remained untouched, a serene island in the tempest. His Sharingan tracked every micro-movement, predicting Raiju's attacks before the Kumo elite's muscles even fully committed.
Meanwhile, Shirakumo, shaking off the last dregs of genjutsu disorientation, snapped into action.
"Kano! Kurotsuchi! Flank the door! Shadow, cover!" Her voice was sharp, regaining its tactical edge. Kano blurred towards the heavy metal exit, a streak of white lightning. Kurotsuchi, a mountain of armoured muscle, slammed his shoulder against the reinforced door.
"BANG!"
It didn't budge. He grunted, channelling more chakra.
"Raiton: Jūkentō!"
His fist, wreathed in crackling energy, hammered against the metal.
"KRA-KOOM!"
The sound was deafening, but the door merely dented slightly, glowing red-hot at the point of impact. No breach. Shirakumo's hands flew through seals.
"Fuinjutsu: Chakra Disruptor!"
A complex pattern flared on the doorframe, trying to unravel whatever barrier held it shut. It sputtered and died against an unseen, vastly superior force.
"It's… locked! Sealed beyond my capacity!" she hissed, frustration warring with fear.
Kano, vibrating with frantic energy, zipped around the room's perimeter, his kodachi leaving faint scoring marks on the walls as he tested for weaknesses.
"SHINK-SHINK-SCRAPE!"
Nothing. The Shadow simply melted back into the deepest corner, a barely visible presence radiating cold lethality, but even its aura seemed constrained, unable to pierce the invisible walls.
"It's useless!"
Kurotsuchi boomed, frustration evident in his rumbling voice as he landed another thunderous blow that only made the door groan in protest.
"The whole room… It's encased!"
Renjiro, still effortlessly evading Raiju's increasingly desperate flurry, raised his voice, cutting through the din of futile attacks and crackling lightning.
"My apologies for the inconvenience, esteemed guests!" he called out, his tone remarkably cheerful given the circumstances. "But you see, I have a slight problem that requires your… continued presence here with me."
He ducked under a sizzling haymaker, appearing momentarily behind Raiju before flickering away again as the Kumo leader spun, snarling.
"A problem?" Shirakumo spat, her lavender eyes narrowed.
"Indeed," Renjiro confirmed, coming to a sudden, complete stop in the centre of the room. Raiju skidded to a halt a few feet away, chest heaving, lightning flickering erratically around him, his single eye blazing with fury and dawning exhaustion. Renjiro spread his hands slightly.
"The problem is, you came here intending to kill me. Or capture me. Either way, terribly inhospitable." His Sharingan gleamed.
"So, I propose a wager. Accept my bet… and if you win, you walk out of here. All of you. Alive."
The offer hung in the air, thick with tension and disbelief. Walk out alive? From the Red Demon? Raiju's mind whirled.
'Trap. It has to be a trap. But… what choice do we have?'
He looked at his team. Shirakumo, calculating, assessing the impossible odds. Kano, vibrating with barely contained rage and fear. Kurotsuchi, massive and stalwart but clearly unnerved by the unyielding barrier. The Shadow, an indistinct void of lethal intent, but trapped nonetheless. The distant roar of the burning depot was a grim reminder of the village bleeding while they were caged.
Engaging Renjiro directly was suicide.
But a bet… a chance? Raiju's jaw clenched. He needed time. He needed any opening. He met Renjiro's crimson gaze, steeling himself against the hypnotic pull of the tomoe.
"What…" Raiju growled, the word scraping from his throat, his Lightning Chakra Mode dimming slightly as he deliberately lowered his guard, signalling a ceasefire. "…is the bet?"
Renjiro's smirk widened, transforming into a full, predatory grin.
"Simple," he said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous purr.
His hands flashed through a single, complex seal.
"Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!"
"FWOOSH! FWOOSH! FWOOSH!... FWOOSH!"
Not one, not five, but twenty-five plumes of dense white smoke erupted throughout the already crowded sensory hub, filling the space with an acrid tang. The smoke cleared almost instantly, revealing twenty-five perfect copies of Renjiro Uzumaki.
The original Renjiro, still standing calmly in the centre, gestured expansively towards his silent, identical army. His grin was razor-sharp.
"Defeat my clones," he stated, his voice echoing slightly from twenty-five throats, a chilling chorus of calm menace, "and you walk away with your lives."