The ruins of Uzushiogakure, Mask Storage Temple.
Watching Reiji struggle, Ashina Uzumaki gave a sinister grin.
"Give it up, kid. You won't break those. Adamantine Sealing Chains aren't something you can just shrug off."
At that, Reiji rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath.
"You really think I've never seen Adamantine Sealing Chains before? Those things shoot out of your ass."
"It's the back, not the ass, you ignorant brat~"
Ashina Uzumaki waved dismissively, clearly unimpressed.
"Doesn't matter. You've got all the time in the world to study Fūinjutsu now.
Once this old body of mine finally rots away, you'll be taking over the job of guarding the Mask Storage Temple.
Plenty of time to figure out how not to use your 'ass' to launch sealing chains."
With that, Ashina stepped forward and took the Shinigami Mask down from the wall.
Reiji's scalp tingled.
This old fossil—he's actually going to use the Dead Demon Consuming Seal?!
Without hesitation, Reiji tensed his arms.
The chains restraining him immediately groaned under the pressure, creaking ominously.
Startled, the old man didn't even think. He yanked the Shinigami Mask down and slapped it onto his face.
Yes! Reiji's heart leapt, and he struggled to keep his mouth from curling into a grin.
At the same time, deep within his mental world, Reiji's consciousness was smirking, arms raised, holding a wildly thrashing monster overhead.
Come on, hurry up!
This old bastard actually saved me the trouble!
That's right—Reiji had come here for the Shinigami Mask.
His true goal was to offer up the "monster" clinging to his soul like a parasite—to let the Shinigami have a taste.
It wasn't that Reiji couldn't suppress it. The thing was just an annoying pain—always stirring up trouble for no reason.
Sure, it had its uses at times, but most of the time, it was just a massive headache.
So, Reiji figured he'd toss it to the Shinigami for now and retrieve it when he actually needed it.
To put it plainly, he was treating the Shinigami like a storage pouch.
And honestly? You couldn't blame him.
What he was about to attempt next was insanely dangerous—one misstep and everything would fall apart.
If he ended up under Madara's Genjutsu and the creature got loose…
Sure, it might throw Madara off at first—but long term? That thing would grow stronger, start scheming on its own.
Worse, it knew everything Reiji knew.
If it took over while Reiji was out cold and used Flying Thunder God Technique to vanish to some random place and start chaos…
Who'd get blamed?
What, am I the Hokage now? Why the hell should I be taking the fall?
So yeah—stuffing that thing into a pocket and taking it with him? Best move.
Reiji was a cold one—calculating enough to trap even himself.
Just as anticipation peaked, a chilling wind swept through the Mask Storage Temple. The air dropped several degrees in an instant.
Not far off, Ashina Uzumaki stood frozen in place, arms spread, the mask on his face—like he'd been bound by something unseen.
Come on! Play your hand already! Someone get Lord Ashina a cappuccino!
In that moment, through Reiji's eyes, he saw a pair of pale, corpse-spotted hands stretch out from Ashina's abdomen and grab hold of him.
He saw it.
The Shinigami—draped in a flowing white robe, horned, fanged, green-faced, with a dagger clenched between his teeth.
In Reiji's mind, those massive hands burst through space and reached toward his soul with perfect precision.
And there he was—grinning ear to ear—holding the writhing, tentacle-covered, pitch-black monster tightly in his hands as he pushed it forward into the Shinigami's grasp.
Heh~
A gleeful little chuckle.
The Shinigami snatched the furious, squirming "monster" and withdrew his hand swiftly.
Within the Mask Storage Temple, a pure black soul was slowly drawn out of Reiji's body.
Instantly, he felt like a thousand-pound weight had been lifted from his shoulders. The relief was so overwhelming he almost moaned out loud.
And across the room, Ashina Uzumaki stood frozen, staring in utter disbelief at the blackened soul.
What's with this guy? My soul, my clan's souls—they're all blue. Why the hell is his pitch black?
Does that mean his heart's just that dark?
Who is he, really?
As Ashina pondered, his soul was the first to be pulled out of his body.
Unlike Reiji, the Shinigami didn't just yank out Ashina's soul—he also dragged out seven or eight transparent chains, each one tightly wrapped around it, like a tug-of-war between him and the god of death.
The Shinigami didn't rush, either. Just slowly, methodically, pulling inch by inch.
Before long, Reiji's black soul floated right past Ashina's slowly advancing one and slipped into the Shinigami's mouth.
Seeing that, Ashina's soul suddenly flared with a blinding light. The chains still linking it to his body surged with power and, within seconds, snapped him right back into himself.
Reiji stood there, dumbfounded, staring at the scene.
Damn. Seriously, damn!
You're really gonna do the Shinigami like that?
And Shinigami, you too! Just gonna let him glitch your technique like it's nothing?
Your tolerance is unreal!
If it were me, I'd have chopped him into stuffing and made dumplings out of him. And I'd eat sweet tofu pudding for the rest of my life just to celebrate!!!
...
Outside, having escaped the Shinigami's clutches, Ashina Uzumaki turned around, face hidden behind the mask but clearly thrilled.
He ate it! The Shinigami actually ate it!
Black soul, blue soul—doesn't matter. The Shinigami doesn't discriminate.
Then—reality gave them a twist.
The Shinigami stuffed the black monster of a soul into his mouth…
And froze.
For the first time, his ever-expressionless face twisted—his brow furrowing hard.
Ugh…
He yanked the black, tentacled mass out of his mouth with lightning speed. His face twisted in visible disgust as he stuck out his tongue.
And then, on that tongue… little green sprouts broke through the surface of his skin.
One after another, tiny blades of grass sprouted until the tip of his tongue looked like a damn potted plant.
Reiji and Ashina stared, stunned into silence.
Reiji blinked at the Shinigami's tongue-turned-garden, then slowly covered his face with one hand. He had so many questions, none of which could make it past the lump in his throat.
What... what the hell even am I?
Fine, blood growing grass—I can chalk that up to some immortality side effect. But my soul? My soul grows grass now?!
God, seriously—what kind of joke are you playing on me?
Right then, the Shinigami raised the hand holding his little blade and—without hesitation—sliced off his own tongue, face scrunched in pure disgust.
"Ugh...
Filthy! Rotten... seed! Absolutely revolting!
Da...ma...shi...ne!
Wasn't this crap supposed to be in that guy's hands?! Why the hell is it just lying around?!
No manners at all!
Tch! Damn outsider trash!"
Muttering incomprehensibly, the Shinigami crammed the still-writhing black soul back into Reiji's body and vanished without another word.