With that sharp command, the patrol at Amegakure's gates quickly surrounded Vincent.
"Are you one of us? Show your identification," the squad leader ordered, his tone brooking no argument.
"Hold on a moment," Vincent muttered, lowering his voice.
He slipped a hand into his robes, pretending to search. Of course, he had no identification as a Rain shinobi. This was nothing but a bluff.
"Hurry up!"
The leader grew impatient as Vincent fumbled endlessly with nothing to show. One of the guards stepped forward, reaching out to rip off Vincent's mask for a better look.
Just as the man's fingers brushed close.
Conqueror's Haki erupted!
Vincent no longer suppressed it. Instead, he unleashed it in full, a wave of crushing willpower surging outward.
The guard froze, eyes going wide as if he'd seen a nightmare. His knees buckled, and he collapsed into a dazed stupor. The others staggered as well, their consciousness overwhelmed by the invisible pressure.
Only the squad leader managed to stay half-conscious, trembling violently as he fumbled for the alarm on his belt.
"You won't get the chance."
Vincent's form blurred forward. His foot slammed into the man's chest.
Crack!
Bone shattered, the man's ribcage caving in grotesquely. Blood sprayed from his mouth as his eyes bulged in disbelief. His head slumped sideways, dying without closure.
The rest fared no better one ruthless kick each, and they were silenced forever.
"If there's a heaven in this world, you won't be seeing it," Vincent muttered.
Dragging their corpses into a thicket, he stripped the leader's gear and armor. Fortunately, they were close in height and build nearly one meter eighty-nine so the disguise fit well enough. Mask on, gear secured, Vincent strode calmly into the village.
He kept to the shadows of the rooftops, careful to avoid the downpour. In Amegakure, the rain was no ordinary weather. It was Pain's jutsu, a surveillance technique that allowed him to sense any intrusion through each drop of water. Jiraiya had once been exposed this way, forced into a desperate fight that ultimately cost him his life.
Vincent wove deeper into the village, his gaze darting from alley to alley.
Then he stopped.
Before him stood a familiar tavern.
"This is it… Jiraiya should have passed through here to gather information. Let's take a look."
Stepping inside, he was greeted by a group of provocatively dressed women.
"Welcome, darling~"
Vincent lounged casually onto a couch, while a woman in a spotted black-and-white dress poured him a drink.
"I heard you asked for me by name. You must find me irresistible," she teased with a sultry smile.
Vincent nodded once.
"You remind me of a friend of mine… Lady Tsunade."
"Oh?" Her smile widened with intrigue as she leaned closer. "Funny, another guest said the exact same thing earlier. You men all have the same pickup lines, don't you?"
"Another guest?" Vincent feigned surprise, though he already knew the truth.
"Yes. Much older than you, hair completely white, but rather handsome. He left just a short while ago."
Vincent's eyes glinted.
"Ah, I see. That must be my friend," he replied lightly. "And when did he leave, exactly?"
"Just now," she pouted. "And not a word of thanks either. Hmph! No manners at all."
Vincent chuckled, stood, and tossed her a handful of Amegakure coins from his pocket spoils taken from the men he'd killed.
"Consider it payment for next time, Miss Tsunade," he said with a grin before turning to leave.
Outside, his smile vanished.
"So… Jiraiya has already moved on. That means he's likely interrogating her husband by now."
Vincent took the left path, following the route he remembered from the original events.
Before long, a new tavern appeared ahead asymmetrical, ostentatious building. A signboard read: Toad Club.
"Of course. A new opening gimmick." Vincent smirked and pushed through the doors.
Inside, two Amegakure shinobi sat at the bar. They turned at the sound, glanced at his disguise, and went back to their drinks.
"The rain's unusual today," the younger one grumbled. "It's not even Sunday. Why'd it start falling all of a sudden?"
The older shinobi, Tsunade's husband, quickly hushed him.
"Don't say such things. Careless words can get you killed."
Behind the bar, the bartender smirked and set down his glass.
"You're in luck. Today's our grand opening, which means a special service."
"What kind of service?" the younger one asked eagerly.
The bartender grinned, pressing his hands together in a familiar seal.
"An interrogation service!"
Poof!
A puff of smoke exploded, revealing Jiraiya in disguise no longer. His massive forehead protector gleamed with the bold "oil" kanji the unmistakable mark of one of Konoha's Legendary Sannin.
The shinobi's faces twisted in horror.
"It's a trap!"
Chairs clattered as they tried to bolt. A smoke bomb burst against the floor, filling the room with thick gray haze.
"Damn it, the door won't budge!" the younger one screamed, yanking on the handle only to realize his hand was being bound by the wooden frame itself.
The elder fared no better, ensnared by the transforming wall.
Jiraiya cracked his knuckles and turned toward Vincent, who sat calmly in the corner.
"Well then," he said smoothly, "will you stick yourself to the wall, or do I need to help you?"
Vincent smiled faintly, pulling off the mask and forehead protector.
"Jiraiya-sensei," he said warmly, "you make it sound like we're strangers."
----------------------------------------------------
The deeper he goes, the more the truth unravels. Don't wait read ahead and witness Vincent's rise before the world catches up!
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