Chapter 125: Souta Who Dislikes Killing Innocent People
Souta was trying to calm his restless mind. Perhaps Makima in this world was different from the Makima in Chainsaw Man.
Perhaps this world had already diverged far from the original path… Yet Souta's thoughts trembled again when he remembered the appearance of Masamichi Yaga, who not only looked exactly like the character from the anime Jujutsu Kaisen, but also carried a personality that was almost identical.
Then… could it be that Makima in this world is merely pretending to look kind? While in truth, she remains a cruel and manipulative figure? Souta muttered within his heart.
That thought made Souta unconsciously swallow hard, his throat turning dry. His heartbeat quickened, especially when he recalled Makima's last words. Her dream was to become the Kazekage…
Didn't that mean that if Makima truly reached such a position, she would hold full authority over the Village of Sunagakure? With that rank, she could control the village however she pleased. The very thought of such a possibility sent shivers down Souta's spine.
Souta stood stunned, his gaze blankly fixed on the desert sky, a vast canvas of blue made harsher by the scorching midday sun. His silence became so conspicuous that it caused Masamichi, who had been observing them carefully, to slightly furrow his brow. Masamichi's eyes narrowed, as though he were reading the discomfort hidden deep within his student's heart.
"Next, you in the middle—introduce yourself." Masamichi shifted his gaze and his voice fell on Souta. His tone was gentle yet firm, compelling Souta to break free from his drifting thoughts.
"Ah… um…" Souta drew in a long breath, trying to steady himself after his brief falter. He then stood upright, though his voice still carried a trace of caution. "My name is Souta. The thing I like… I like studying and developing Kugutsu."
Souta's face lit up slightly as he said this, for that was truly one of the things he cherished most.
"I really enjoy seeing the many kinds of Kugutsu used for different purposes," he continued, his voice growing steadier.
"The thing I dislike… I dislike seeing anyone treat human life lightly. What I mean is… I dislike those who kill ordinary people without reason. I cannot stand people who do such things." Souta paused for a moment, inhaling deeply before continuing in a more profound tone.
"My dream… I want to see the Village of Sunagakure grow. By creating various forms of transportation that ease everyday life, by improving the village's economy, and by strengthening its shinobi." His gaze sharpened now, fixed on the far-off view of the village visible from the rooftop.
"I also want to build better infrastructure and make Sunagakure a more prosperous place." His words came slowly, each one spoken with conviction. Though his voice still carried a faint tremor, there was sincerity in it that could not be denied.
Those words drifted away with the desert wind, leaving behind a strong impression—that Souta was truly thinking of the village's future, not just speaking empty dreams.
"But you do realize, don't you, that as shinobi, our duty is to carry out missions—missions that often involve battles and even killings. If there ever comes a time when ordinary people must be killed, are you willing to do it?" Masamichi spoke with a firm voice, his gaze fixed sharply upon Souta. His eyes were cold and piercing, as though trying to see straight into the heart of the young student before him.
That look was no mere question—it was a test, a way to measure the spirit of a young shinobi, one still untainted by the darkness of the world. Masamichi's deep voice resonated in the sweltering air, making several of the other students swallow nervously, not daring to breathe too loudly.
"…I do not want to do that. I would rather cancel such a mission if possible. But if there is no way to avoid it, then I would still choose not to kill them." Souta answered with a serious expression.
...
Chapter 126: Worse Than Trash
Souta's lips trembled slightly, but his eyes did not avert from his teacher's gaze. There was a glimmer of determination shining within them, even though a thin layer of sweat began trickling down his temple, as if the weight of the question hung above him like a sharp sword suspended right over his head.
"…You would rather choose to abandon the mission than kill innocent people without reason?" Masamichi spoke with a grave tone. His brows furrowed, his eyes narrowing sharply.
His voice carried a heavy timbre, as though testing the truth behind Souta's answer. The air around them grew increasingly stiff, and the other students lowered their heads, not daring to interrupt.
"Yes." Souta nodded. The small motion seemed simple, yet every inch of his body revealed how serious he was about his words. His breath sounded heavy, as if he had just borne a tremendous burden, but his expression remained steadfast.
"…You truly are a strange child. Do you not know that ninjas are trained to complete their missions?" Masamichi demanded, his tone rising.
His voice thundered, firm and resounding, like a whip cracking through silence. Several students flinched in surprise, some even unconsciously tensing and clutching their own trousers, as though the intensity of the moment was digging into their skin.
"Those who abandon their missions are indeed called trash," Souta suddenly declared, his tone firm, "but those who carry out missions that slaughter the innocent are far worse than trash."
His voice rang out with seriousness, though deep down Souta felt a flicker of embarrassment—because the words were borrowed from Obito.
His cheeks flushed slightly, realizing they were not wholly his own. And yet, Souta still voiced them with unshakable conviction. In the hot air that wrapped around all of them, his words echoed, and somehow the simple sentence carried a weight and meaning that far exceeded its form.
The moment Souta's declaration landed, silence fell. The sun overhead seemed to blaze hotter than before, though it was already edging toward late afternoon.
Sunlight struck their faces, casting long shadows of the students across the ground, while the dry air amplified the tense pressure that clung tightly to their skin.
No one dared to speak. Even the wind itself seemed to vanish from the place. Only the pounding of each student's heartbeat resounded clearly within their own ears.
Masamichi had not expected one of his students to possess such a firm resolve, much less such unwavering conviction. This realization stirred something within him, and he began to feel a growing appreciation for the group of young shinobi he was about to guide.
Inwardly, Masamichi murmured to himself, acknowledging that perhaps these children were not ordinary students at all, but people capable of bringing great change. The corner of his lips twitched upward, though he kept his face stern, restraining himself from showing too much admiration.
"Hmph! Damn brat, you're next." Masamichi snorted harshly, shifting his gaze toward Pakura.
The sharp snort cut through the brief warmth that had surfaced, sweeping it away and replacing it with the aura of strict authority that once again wrapped tightly around the atmosphere. His gaze moved, bearing down on the next student with commanding weight.
"My name is Pakura. Things I like… to be honest, I think there are almost none. But if I had to choose, I would say I enjoy eating meat. As for what I dislike… I despise people who look down on food the most."
"Those who cannot appreciate food, to me, are the most pitiful people of all. Orphans often struggle to obtain even decent meals, let alone delicious ones."
"That is why every bite is something precious. To some people, food might seem trivial, but to others, food is life itself."
"And for my dream… I only wish to become stronger, so that I can protect the ones who are precious to me." Pakura spoke slowly, but her words carried weight. Her voice was calm, yet in every syllable there was a trembling depth of emotion.
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