Due to the sheer force exerted by Ryosuke and Tsunade, the terrifying pressure radiating from their clash continued to surge outward, shaking the entire building with ominous tremors.
"My God!"
The thin Sand Shinobi on the side stared in astonishment, his jaw slack in disbelief. His reaction was understandable—such monstrous strength was rarely witnessed outside of legends.
Meanwhile, the arm-wrestling match between Mizuki Ryosuke and Tsunade had reached its most critical juncture. Ryosuke's arm was teetering on the brink of defeat, moments away from being forced down completely.
Right then, Ryosuke whispered inwardly.
"Jie Pan, help me."
A sudden surge of raw, untamed power erupted from deep within Ryosuke, as if an ancient beast had been unchained.
Tsunade's keen eyes widened in shock. The seemingly harmless young man before her had changed in an instant—his presence now exuding an overwhelming ferocity. His pupils gleamed a deep, ominous scarlet.
This was Bijū chakra.
Unlike a full-fledged Jinchūriki transformation, Ryosuke's borrowing of tailed beast power was brief and subtle. It didn't alter his body drastically, but the unmistakable flicker of raw might in his gaze sent a chill through Tsunade's spine.
The reversal was immediate.
Before Tsunade could react, Ryosuke's arm—now supercharged with Jie Pan's immense chakra—smashed hers downward with absolute dominance.
Given that both were standing, the outcome was inevitable.
BOOM!
A deafening crash echoed through the chamber. Ryosuke's overpowering force not only drove Tsunade's arm into the ground but also sent her entire body toppling backward.
And because Tsunade's sudden fall was unexpected, Ryosuke—unable to halt his own momentum in time—was dragged down along with her.
In that instant, the two found themselves in an unexpectedly intimate position.
The dust settled.
Their faces were close—too close.
So close that Ryosuke could hear the sharp intake of Tsunade's breath, and Tsunade could feel the faint warmth radiating from Ryosuke's skin.
Their gazes locked—azure blue against deep obsidian.
Time seemed to slow.
For a brief, surreal moment, both of them were caught in the sheer magnetism of the other.
Ryosuke, for the first time, took in Tsunade's beauty up close.
This was not the seasoned war-hardened woman he knew from the future.
The Tsunade before him was youthful, radiant—a vibrant force of nature. Her golden hair shimmered in the dim lighting, her skin was flawless and warm, and the sheer confidence in her features was spellbinding.
She was a warrior, a princess, and a storm all in one.
Tsunade, in turn, found herself taken aback by Ryosuke's visage.
His dark, medium-length hair framed a face both handsome and commanding. His features, chiseled and strong, carried an undeniable air of masculinity and resolve.
Perhaps it was because of the adrenaline.
Perhaps it was because she had just been bested in a contest of strength—something she had never experienced before.
But right now, Ryosuke appeared overwhelmingly powerful in her eyes.
The tension stretched for a full second—before reality came crashing back.
In perfect synchronization, they both snapped out of their daze, hastily breaking contact. Their hands, still clasped, were torn apart as they scrambled to their feet.
Without hesitation, they turned their backs on each other, their faces burning from the unspoken moment.
Simultaneously, they both reactivated the Transformation Jutsu, restoring their disguises before the surrounding dust could fully settle.
Despite the hurried recovery, the aftermath of their confrontation was undeniable.
The entire chamber was a wreck.
The walls had crumbled, leaving jagged remains. The floor was cracked beyond repair, and large portions of the building had collapsed, revealing the outside world.
And waiting there—watching them—was an army.
Dozens of masked shinobi, clad in dark Rain Village attire, stood in formation. Their respirator-like masks concealed their expressions, but their weapons and posture made their intent clear.
An arrogant voice sliced through the air.
"Well, well… it seems you found us. But that was your mistake."
A figure emerged from the crowd, stepping forward with a sinister smirk. His face was half-covered by a grotesque birthmark, his eyes filled with menace.
"You big-shot ninjas from the Five Great Nations… If you surrender now, I might be generous and spare your lives."
Ryosuke narrowed his eyes.
He recognized this man.
"Sanshōuo Midara."
His identity was unmistakable.
Midara was one of the trusted lieutenants of Hanzō of the Salamander—the undisputed ruler of Amegakure.
Ryosuke and Kisame exchanged a glance, swiftly sharing unspoken thoughts.
Before coming to Rain Country, Ryosuke had gathered intelligence on Amegakure's leadership. The village itself operated under a rigid hierarchy, with Hanzō reigning supreme.
However, beneath Hanzō were a handful of elite enforcers who managed Amegakure's operations.
Sanshōuo Midara was one of them.
Nicknamed "Hanzō's Right Hand," Midara was a cunning strategist who specialized in interrogation, counterintelligence, and large-scale purges.
And judging by the Rain Shinobi army behind him, it was obvious what had happened.
This was a trap.
Ryosuke quickly pieced together the situation.
For months, Amegakure had been undergoing a brutal internal purge orchestrated by Hanzō. Spies from the Five Great Nations had been systematically hunted down and eliminated.
Naturally, the other villages weren't going to sit idly by.
In response, Konoha, Suna, Iwa, and Kiri had each dispatched their own operatives to investigate the situation in secret.
And somehow…
Every single one of them had ended up in this underground den at the same time.
A cruel twist of fate.
Ryosuke glanced at the other disguised individuals—the thin Sand Shinobi, the burly Rock Shinobi, and Tsunade.
There was no mistaking it now.
Tsunade was Konoha's agent.
The thin man was Suna's operative.
The fat one was an Iwa-nin.
And Ryosuke himself represented Kirigakure.
Four of the Five Great Nations had unwittingly converged in a single room—only to be ambushed by Amegakure's forces.
Ryosuke exhaled, his lips twitching into an amused smirk.
"So that's how it is."
It all made sense now.
Hanzō had likely allowed this underground den to operate—turning it into bait to lure in foreign spies.
The moment they gathered here, Midara and his forces had been waiting to spring the trap.
Ryosuke almost laughed at the irony.
To think, he had only been here for a casual gamble, and now he had stumbled into an inter-village intelligence war.
At least, he mused, there was one small mercy.
Of all the shinobi Amegakure had sent, Hanzō himself was not among them.
If the legendary Hanzō of the Salamander had arrived in person, things might have been different.
But these low-level Rain Shinobi?
Ryosuke's smirk widened.
They weren't even worth drawing his blade for.
JOIN MY PATREON TO READ ADVANCE 100+ CHAPTERS
Patreon.com/Kora_1