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Chapter 142 - Chapter 142: Absolute Judgement hits Black Zetsu!

The moment Obito gritted his teeth and gave the order to "retreat," he could barely suppress the frustration boiling inside him. He shot Uchiha Chizumi one last, bitter glare before swiping his palm through the air—and his body vanished into the swirling vortex of Kamui.

"…That's one creepy ability."

Watching the so-called "Uchiha Madara" vanish right before his eyes, Jūzō Biwa couldn't help but mutter, "So that's a space-time dojutsu? Damn, what a busted technique."

"Wait—what?! He just bailed without a word?" Spiral-Face White Zetsu blinked, then quickly backed away from Jujirō and dispelled the giant wooden golem.

Then he tripped over a thick branch—stumbling like a cartoon character about to fall face-first—but caught himself at the last second.

"Oh nooo~!" he cried out dramatically. Then he straightened up, his feet sinking slightly into the dirt, and shot Jujirō a goofy grin. "Can't believe you didn't fall for that! I totally thought you'd try to smack me while I was 'falling.'"

"Next time we meet, I'm gonna compare how cats poop to how humans poop. I've got tons of experience spying on Madara-sama's toilet habits, you know!"

And with that bizarre statement, Spiral Zetsu melted into the ground before Jujirō could even react.

"Uchiha Chizumi…"

Now alone, Black Zetsu locked eyes with Chizumi. A flicker of dread ran through his otherwise unreadable expression. "Next time we meet, we'll have a plan to kill you. You're in the open—we're in the shadows. You'll never know when we'll strike."

"In this shinobi world, knowing too much is dangerous. And telling others what you know? That's just asking to die."

"Then…"

Just as Black Zetsu's body was about to fully disappear into the ground—only half his head still visible—Chizumi's left eye suddenly met his gaze.

Black Zetsu froze.

To his horror, blood trickled once again from Chizumi's eye—bright red and unmistakable.

The twisted kaleidoscope pattern of his Mangekyō Sharingan was spinning.

"Judgment."

Black Zetsu's pupils shrank. In his vision, the world turned a haunting crimson.

It was like the entire sky had bled. Even the full moon above twisted into a giant Mangekyō eye.

Then it hit.

Thousands of years of memories—memories that weren't even his—flashed through his mind at breakneck speed. They belonged to his victims.

Despair. Misery. Struggle. Hatred. Fury.

The dying emotions of everyone he had manipulated, destroyed, or killed were poured directly into his consciousness.

Even an ancient, non-human being like Black Zetsu—who had outlived nations—couldn't withstand that flood. His mind felt like it exploded.

Amplified a hundredfold.

It was like six trillion explosive tags had gone off in his head.

The searing, soul-piercing pain short-circuited his thoughts.

This wasn't just mental shock.

This was his very soul being judged.

This was Hell's judgment, unleashed by absolute justice.

"AAAAARGH!!!" he screamed, his arms shooting out of the ground to clutch his head. His claws tore through his own flesh and into his skull, his black-and-white face contorted in agony.

Everything he had made others suffer—bodily pain, psychological torture, total despair—was now happening to him.

And he wasn't just witnessing it—he was living it.

The more sins he carried, the longer the torture would last. For some, the effect lingered for weeks.

For Black Zetsu—a thousand old demon?

Weeks would be the minimum.

When Danzo got hit by this technique, he immediately lost control of all bodily functions. He didn't even get the chance to resist.

Black Zetsu had no organs to lose control of—but his suffering was easily ten times worse.

After a thousand years of evil, he couldn't even remember how many families he'd destroyed or how many lives he'd ended.

Now, all of that pain came back to him. And only him.

"…What the hell…" Jūzō Biwa stared, dumbfounded. From where he stood, Chizumi had just glared at the plant-faced freak—and the thing collapsed in agony.

This was a suspected core member of Akatsuki, someone who could probably use Wood Release.

And yet in front of Chizumi's eyes, he was utterly helpless.

"This is the eye of judgment from hell," Chizumi said coldly, not bothering to wipe the blood running down his cheek. "It's useless against the innocent. You could cast it a hundred times, and nothing would happen if someone's never done evil."

"But for monsters like you… it's justice. As long as you're conscious, as long as you have a soul—even if you're not truly alive—I can judge you."

Screaming in pure horror, the last shred of Black Zetsu's will forced him to flee underground. He vanished in the most pathetic, panicked retreat imaginable.

But he didn't notice—

Just before he disappeared, Chizumi's right eye flared with fresh blood.

Crimson veins bloomed.

And a new streak of red blood flowed down his right cheek.

"Retribution."

A hellfire brand latched onto the soul of the wicked. Unless Chizumi removed it, the fire would hunt its victim across the world—burning the body to ash and dragging the soul to hell itself.

Even in the afterlife, the flames would cling—an eternal punishment in the Pure Land's hell.

"Damn it! How the hell does he know all this?! And why did Jiraiya have to show up now?! Just a little more time and I'd have figured out how to kill that bastard Chizumi!"

Somewhere far from the battle, Obito was losing it. His face was dark and cold.

This was the second time he'd been forced to retreat like a coward in front of Chizumi.

And both times, he got nothing out of it.

Even back when he fought Minato, he'd at least gotten the upper hand at the start.

Until Minato figured out Kamui's weakness.

"Damn… he got away again," said Spiral Zetsu, appearing at Obito's side.

"And you two didn't even warn me! I only ran when I saw you leave. What if I was left behind? I'd have been so scared I'd pee myself!"

"…Oh, right. I don't have that function." Then he squatted down with a weirdly sad face, like being unable to poop was a real tragedy.

Obito twitched.

Madara had left him three special Zetsus. One claimed to be Madara's will. The other two were weird versions of White Zetsu.

Spiral-Face here had a quirky personality. The other looked like an aloe plant—quiet, but just as odd.

They were the ones who cared for Obito after his injury.

But now the aloe one was fused with Black Zetsu.

Obito didn't have the patience for poop talk.

He frowned. "Where's the other one?"

Spiral Zetsu blinked. "Uh… I think it ran with us? It's the one who told you to run, remember?"

As the two stared blankly at each other, a black-and-white figure suddenly emerged from the ground.

Obito started to relax—then a horrifying scream shattered the silence.

"AAAAAAAHHH!!" Black Zetsu exploded out of the ground, clutching its head, rolling on the ground, shrieking as its fingers tore through its own skull.

"I—aaaah—I got hit by the Mangekyō—!"

Obito's eyes widened in horror.

So this was Chizumi's power?

The dojutsu he almost fell victim to?

Seeing Black Zetsu reduced to a screaming wreck, barely able to move, made sweat drip down Obito's forehead.

"Wait… doesn't that body have no pain receptors? Is this… pain to the soul?!"

He felt a chill down his spine.

His own body was grafted with White Zetsu cells. Physical pain barely affected him.

But this… this attacked the soul.

And that was terrifying.

Spiral Zetsu tried to grab Black Zetsu to help—but just as he reached for the white half, he flinched.

Some instinct screamed at him.

He pulled back immediately.

Then—BOOM.

Black Zetsu's left arm erupted in terrifying flames. The fire, born from nothing, devoured it instantly.

Its eyes bulged so wide they looked ready to pop out.

"IT'S BURNING MY SOUL!!!" Black Zetsu's scream cracked and distorted, filled with agony and terror. "THIS JUTSU WILL KILL ME! HELP ME! SOMEONE—PLEASE!!!"

But how do you even help in a situation like this?

Could Obito suck half of him into Kamui? Would the fire follow?

Would it burn Obito's soul too?

He hesitated.

And that was enough.

In just that second, the flames had already engulfed Black Zetsu's entire arm and shoulder.

Spiral Zetsu stumbled back in panic.

Then—a young, cold voice cut through the chaos:

"If you can split souls, do it now. Separate the left from the right. Danzo used that trick to avoid total incineration."

Obito and Spiral Zetsu looked up.

A small Anbu ninja was perched on a nearby tree branch.

"You don't have to trust me," the boy said, "but it's your only chance to save him."

Obito narrowed his eyes and shouted, "Split! Get out of that body!"

With a ripple, the black sludge peeled off—Black Zetsu detached from the aloe-shaped White Zetsu, leaving a gooey, black mass with eyes and a mouth.

The aloe-shaped White Zetsu was left on the ground, writhing and shrieking, its left arm consumed by divine fire.

"Pant… pant…"

Black Zetsu, wide-eyed and gasping, stared at his burning former body.

Then—bam.

The despair and pain surged again, dragging him back into a screaming fit as if he were burning too.

"He's still like this?!" Obito turned angrily to the Anbu kid. "Why?!"

"At least the fire didn't touch his soul," the boy replied calmly. "Chizumi's left eye makes you feel unbearable pain—just ask Danzo. His right eye, though, releases a cursed flame that never stops. It only ends when the soul is split."

He looked at the puddle that was Black Zetsu.

"My guess? That body had two souls. The fire latched onto the white one. Once separated, it stayed behind. My advice saved him, didn't it?"

"As for why the pain hasn't stopped—that part I don't know. All I've got is data from when Chizumi hit Danzo."

He narrowed his gaze. "Honestly, you guys are freaks. That thing over there? It's not even human—it's more like a special summoned beast."

Obito frowned behind his mask. The kid's tone reeked of superiority. It rubbed him the wrong way.

Still… the aloe White Zetsu was gone.

The fire reduced it to nothing—not even ash remained.

His expression turned grim.

That White Zetsu had once nursed him back to health.

Watching it die like that? It stung—even if he didn't show it.

With a long exhale, Obito returned to his cold, blank expression.

He looked up at the Anbu ninja.

With a rough, weathered voice, he asked, "What do you want… Uchiha brat?"

Itachi flinched slightly.

He jumped down from the tree and walked over, asking, "How do you know I'm Uchiha?"

Obito chuckled coldly, arms crossed. "I know everything about Konoha. There's only one Uchiha your age in Anbu—Uchiha Itachi.

"And I know kids like you don't help for nothing. So what do you want? You'd better speak before I decide to kill you."

Itachi paused half a second, then took off his mask. His young face was trying hard to look mature—and failing.

"I can tell," he said, voice cold. "You want to kill Uchiha Chizumi. Or maybe the whole clan. You probably know Konoha well… but you don't know Chizumi like I do."

"Maybe there's room to work together."

"Oh?" Obito raised a brow. "Let's hear it."

Itachi stared him down. "How about this—let's team up to take down Uchiha Chizumi. Or, if needed… the Uchiha clan itself."

Obito: "???"

Elsewhere…

"Jiraiya the Toad Sage is here! All of you—cut it out! This isn't the place to mess around!"

With a thunderous leap, Jiraiya finally arrived, landing hard on the ground, voice booming across the forest.

The aftermath in front of him was total chaos—uprooted trees, cracked earth, lingering chakra in the air. A serious battle had clearly taken place.

But oddly enough… there was no battle happening now.

Instead, the scene was eerily calm.

Standing there were just two men and a cat.

Uchiha Chizumi. Jūzō Biwa. Jujirō.

"…You three?" Jiraiya blinked, thrown off. "Why is it you?"

"It's long over, meow," Jujirō answered lazily, having shrunk back to his normal cat size. His eyes looked a little drowsy—clearly drained.

It seemed that taking on such a massive form earlier had burned through a huge amount of his chakra and stamina.

Jujirō rolled his eyes at Jiraiya and snapped, "This is the so-called conviction you have to reform the shinobi world? You couldn't even show up on time—and you want to shape a savior into your ideal hero?"

Jiraiya: "…"

He hadn't even said anything yet, and this ninja cat was already roasting him again. What was this guy's problem with him?

Did he just not get along with cats?

But Jiraiya was one of the Legendary Sannin. He wasn't about to argue with a cat.

Suppressing his annoyance, he turned to Chizumi and asked, "Chizumi… I saw a giant wooden construct from miles away. And the roots of these trees—they've burst from the ground like something huge came through. Who used Wood Release here?"

Before Chizumi could respond, Jiraiya caught a flicker in the corner of his eye.

Jūzō Biwa.

He was looking at Chizumi—with something between suspicion and amazement.

Why was he looking at him like that?

Wait…

No way.

Jiraiya's eyes widened as realization hit. He turned to Chizumi, completely stunned.

"It was you?! You used Wood Release?!"

Chizumi didn't even blink.

"…Not just him," Jūzō chimed in, patting dust off his clothes with a lingering shiver. "There were two others. Weird-looking guys. They both used Wood Release too."

He grumbled under his breath, "Seriously, what's going on with Konoha's bloodline? Feels like everyone's got access to this legendary jutsu now. Like it's being handed out for free or something."

Jiraiya: "…"

That was a lot to process.

—Chizumi had Wood Release.

—And apparently, he'd just fought two enemies from outside the village who could also use it.

That sent a chill down Jiraiya's spine.

Wood Release—the legendary kekkei genkai of the First Hokage, Hashirama Senju. It was a bloodline so powerful it once controlled the entire shinobi world. After Hashirama died, no one in the Senju clan ever awakened it again.

Hiruzen once mentioned that Orochimaru had experimented with Wood Release. There was one successful subject.

But that subject had been hidden away by Hiruzen himself.

Wait a minute…

Could this be related to Orochimaru?

The thought lit up a warning light in Jiraiya's head.

He tensed. "Chizumi. Were the enemies you fought… Orochimaru? Or one of his subordinates? Or…"

His voice dropped, serious.

"Was it one of his students?"

Chizumi turned his head slightly, his face as unreadable as ever.

"It was your grand-student."

"…Huh?" Jiraiya froze. Completely caught off guard.

He blinked, visibly confused.

~~~

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