The eyes of this new enemy fixed on the man, as the smoke dispersed and the man's image became clearer… She frowned when she noticed the cables still hanging from his body.
—"One of the test subjects…?"—she muttered, more to herself than to him.
The man did not respond. His muscles still felt stiff, and his breathing was not steady, but something inside him told him that this woman was not going to waste time with questions. Nothing further from reality—he was right.
In an instant, the kunoichi moved.
Her hand slid toward her vest, and with a swift turn, she threw a kunai straight at the man's neck.
Reflexes took control before his mind could process it. He dodged by instinct, his body leaning back at the last second. The kunai's blade whistled through the air, passing mere centimeters from his throat before embedding itself in the wall he had collided with earlier, behind him.
The man had barely had time to stabilize when the kunoichi was already on him.
Fast. Too fast, the man thought.
The enemy's leg rose in a brutal spin, aiming to strike his side. He couldn't dodge it completely. The blow hit his rib, sending him against the wall with a heavy thud.
—"Shit…"—for the first time since he had awakened, the man managed to utter a groan.
His body was still weak. He could not keep up this pace, and no one knew it better than he did.
The kunoichi gave him no respite. In one fluid movement, she already had another kunai in her hand and lunged forward, this time aiming to stab the blade into his heart.
The man, knowing that his chances were few, ran in the only direction available with what little strength he had, seeking more time until he could come up with an idea to strike back and achieve victory despite his current state.
The kunoichi, unwilling to let him escape, grabbed one of the cables hanging from the man's back. Maybe she thought it was some kind of medical device. She tried to immobilize him by pulling him to the ground and ending his life with a sure stab. But as soon as she pulled hard and the cable tore free from the man's flesh, a considerable amount of blood spilled out with it and fell onto the kunoichi's arm.
The scream of pain was immediate.
A horrible sound, like the hiss of melting flesh, echoed through the corridor as the man's blood touched the kunoichi's skin. Dark vapor rose from the point of contact, and a burning wound instantly opened on the enemy's forearm, as if pure acid had eaten away her flesh. The stench of rot filled the place with intensity.
The kunoichi leapt back, her face twisted in confusion and pain, her gaze fixed on her arm.
—"What the hell… what did you do to me?!"—the kunoichi screamed as she stared at the large wound on her arm.
The man also looked on in surprise. He did not understand what had just happened, but he was not going to waste the opportunity—the opportunity he had been searching for was right before his eyes.
Still unarmed, he advanced at great speed.
The kunoichi tried to react, but the wound on her arm impaired her mobility. The man dodged a desperate attack and, with a swift movement, drove his fingers into the kunoichi's throat.
The strength was not the same as in his past life. His body was still unstable. But it was enough.
The kunoichi released a gurgle of blood from her mouth, while her hands tried to clutch at the man's.
—"Gh… ah…"—the kunoichi's groans grew increasingly desperate.
He gave her no time to struggle further. He twisted his wrist and, with a dry crack, the kunoichi's trachea collapsed.
She fell to the ground, making no further sound.
The man remained standing over the body, breathing heavily, somewhat confused, his mind still processing what had just occurred. His blood… his own blood was lethal.
He brought a hand to his back, where the wound still burned from the torn cable. There was no immediate healing. He had no instant regeneration… but he carried the curse in his veins.
The man stared at the kunoichi's lifeless body for a second longer. Then, he bent down and picked up the fallen kunoichi's kunai. Now, at least, he had a weapon—one that would be of great help in this labyrinth of death, where he did not intend to die without a fight.
The air in the underground corridors was dense and heavy. A metallic stench filled every corner, a silent testimony to the slaughter that had taken place there.
The man moved forward with measured steps, the kunai firm in his hand. His body still felt strange, but adrenaline kept him moving. As he descended through the rocky corridors, the signs of the massacre became clearer.
Dismembered bodies. Not simple deaths from precise cuts or explosions. No, this was bloodier than he could have imagined.
Here, bodies had been torn apart, ripped in unnatural ways. Some limbs lay meters away from their owners, pinned to the walls as if they had been hurled with inhuman force. Blood still dripped from the ceiling in places, forming dark pools on the uneven floor.
The man passed by a corpse whose head had been completely pierced by a white fragment… it looked like bone.
—"What the hell did this?"—the man asked himself in bewilderment.
A sound made him stop.
Voices? the man thought.
He pressed himself against a rocky wall, sharpening his hearing. Further ahead, a group of men spoke in whispers.
—"It seems the reports were false, the informant lied to us. They told us Orochimaru would be here… but there is no trace of him,"—said one of the men wearing white animal masks.
—"Tch… we've lost too many men over this false information. Who the hell sold us this mission?"—asked another man angrily, wearing a white owl mask.
Orochimaru? the man thought. The name meant nothing to him, but apparently, these men were looking for him… an entire massacre carried out to find a single man, and still, they had not found him.
Before he could process it further, a tearing sound split the air.
—"W-what…?!"—a muffled scream from one of the men was heard as he watched one of his companions fall.
The man cautiously peeked… and saw him. A new figure had appeared among the ninjas. A tall, slender man with white hair, with an elegant yet unnatural bearing. His clothing was strange, completely different from that of the fallen ninjas.
His attire was a white robe with wide sleeves, with an opening at the chest that gave him a ceremonial appearance. Dark trousers, suggesting comfort and mobility in battle. A gray sash or belt, with a yin-yang symbol on the front. Bandages on the legs and shinobi sandals, common among ninjas, offering support and protection in combat. A large purple rope tied at the back.
This man carried weapons in one hand, which looked like swords, but they had the same white tone as the projectile the man had seen earlier in the lifeless body, reinforcing the image of a lethal warrior specialized in unique techniques.
The ensemble conveyed a mixture of authority, tradition, and danger, ideal for someone with advanced combat skills. Despite his appearance, this was not the most disturbing thing. What truly made the man doubt whether what he was seeing was real was what emerged from this strangely dressed figure's body.
—"Ah… what a disappointment"—he murmured in a calm voice.
With a grotesque crack, his right arm split in two… and from within sprouted several sharp bones, extending like spears.
One of the ninjas tried to react, but the white-haired man moved with a speed impossible to detect at first glance, and without hesitation drove the spears into the masked man's body.
—"Shit! He's one of Orochimaru's subordinates!"—shouted one of the masked men.