On the Mist front, Konoha and Kirigakure were locked in a brutal slaughter.
It was basically a small clash every three days, and a major battle every ten.
Even from several miles away, you could smell the blood in the air.
Hanzo had already used Transformation Jutsu to disguise himself as Kakuzu.
Assassinating Mist ninja wasn't a big deal—but the blame? Better to dump that on someone else.
"This is the place the intel mentioned," Hanzo said, frowning slightly as he looked toward the burning battlefield.
Too many people.
Not just Mist ninja—Konoha had plenty of shinobi fighting here too.
And his signature Water Release was out of the question.
"Should I just kill them all?"
If everyone died, wouldn't that solve everything…?
After thinking for a moment, Hanzo's mouth curled into a malicious grin. With another Transformation Jutsu, he became Danzo.
He couldn't use Wind Release, sure—but if he remembered right, Danzo used a blade too.
And Hanzo's gravity field and certain senjutsu-based attacks weren't visible anyway.
Right now, Konoha was being pushed back. The Mist side was led by two bloodline users—one with Ice Release, one with the Dead Bone Pulse.
The Dead Bone Pulse user tanked most attacks at the front while Mist ninja bombarded with Water Release. Then the Ice Release user converted it all into a frozen hellscape—ice flowers bloomed and detonated in the air, turning into a storm of icy senbon that pinned Konoha shinobi like pincushions.
Konoha's Fire Release and explosive tags were basically useless. Worse, that Dead Bone Pulse lunatic was charging through the battlefield like a monster, leaving them no chance to deal with the Mist backline.
And the Hidden Mist Jutsu was growing thicker by the second. Their vision was almost completely gone.
"This old man has arrived…" Hanzo flashed into the battlefield.
The Ice Release bloodline user in the rear was still controlling the ice blossoms when he suddenly felt a chill behind him—then a sharp blade punched straight through his heart.
The Mist shinobi around him seemed to freeze in place, motionless.
Grinding through the pain, he turned his head and saw the figure behind him.
"Shimura… Danzo…"
After that, he collapsed along with the others.
"Been too long since I used a knife. I'm rusty," Hanzo muttered, flicking the blood off the blade as he hauled the corpse toward Konoha's side.
At that moment, the Dead Bone Pulse user was still having the time of his life—bones bursting through skin like grotesque blooms.
A dense layer of bone covered his body, nullifying ordinary kunai and slashes. When the occasional ninjutsu hit him, he simply took it head-on.
A slender bone spear extended more than a meter from his palm, and with one thrust it skewered Konoha shinobi—armor might as well not have existed.
"Dead Bone Pulse… no wonder it's a close-combat nightmare."
That voice came from behind him. Immediately after—
A cold stab of terror pierced his spine.
"But that bone armor is like Sunagakure puppets. The moving joints are always the weakest points."
Ankles. Knees. Hips. Lumbar spine. Thoracic spine. Shoulders.
Hanzo's blade traced those joint lines with surgical precision—until the man was cut into thirteen pieces.
"Damn it… I overdid it. How am I supposed to bring this back?"
"D-Danzo-sama!" The Konoha shinobi who had been waiting to die suddenly saw salvation.
"The Mist here has been cleaned up," Hanzo said, holding the blade in his left hand and imitating Danzo's grim, oppressive tone. "Go support the other sectors."
"Don't make me say it twice."
Danzo's right eye and right arm were wrapped in bandages. Blood streaked his clothes. The blade in his left hand still dripped red as his single visible eye looked down on them.
They were experiencing that pressure for the first time.
"We understand, Danzo-sama," one of them said quickly. "But there's another Dead Bone Pulse unit over there. We don't have confidence we can break their defense—going won't help much."
"Didn't you hear what I just said? Attack their joints," Hanzo snapped—then paused.
Right. They didn't have his speed… and they might not even be able to pierce those joints cleanly.
"Dealing with Dead Bone Pulse… I'll teach you a technique."
Hanzo said calmly, "Dead Bone Pulse is strong, but it's not without weaknesses. Besides the joints, there's one fatal flaw."
"You may not be able to kill them, but you can restrain them with chains for a moment, and then…"
"First, tie a rope around the head and face. Then—use a sharp blade and stab upward through the anus."
As he spoke, Hanzo demonstrated by driving his sword into that area on the corpse. When he pulled the blade out, it was stained in red and yellow.
The Konoha shinobi collectively clenched.
"This is my secret jutsu—Thousand Years of Death. Today, I'm passing it on to you."
"And you're allowed to teach it to others."
With that, Hanzo turned and left with the two bodies—leaving the Konoha shinobi behind in a daze.
...
"Ice Release, Lava Release, Crystal Release, Boil Release… and the Hōzuki clan's secret jutsus…"
Hanzo's eyes narrowed.
"What's gotten into Kirigakure? This is practically suicidal."
"Come to think of it… most of the shinobi of the Land of Water were driven there by Hashirama and Madara back then, weren't they?"
"Is this revenge…?"
Hanzo shook his head. He didn't know.
"But perfect. I'll take these bloodlines."
"Plenty of opportunities on a battlefield…"
"Luck is really on my side."
He sealed the body and the pile of limbs into a scroll. Then he drew a deep breath, forcing the nausea down into his chest.
Flying Thunder God Technique.
That queasy lurch was unbearable. If he could avoid it, he really would.
He buried a Flying Thunder God kunai in the soil—then in the next instant, he reappeared outside the underground bounty exchange.
"Cough—cough—cough!"
He swallowed the acid rising in his throat, canceled the transformation, removed the respirator, and gulped air.
"I need to speed up my Flying Thunder God training. At this rate, I'm going to vomit my stomach out one day."
Long pain was worse than short pain. Hanzo decided he'd push hard and brute-force his way through this damn vertigo.
"I'll use… thirty shadow clones. That shouldn't be a problem."
After transforming again, he walked into the exchange.
"Boss. I'm here to collect my bounty."
He summoned the corpse and the heap of severed limbs from the scroll and tossed them down in front of the two clerks.
"The second one was unexpected—but I'm sure you can recognize him. As for the third, I never encountered him. Your intel was wrong. He didn't appear where you said he would."
The two workers' eyes widened.
So fast—there wasn't even enough time to travel!
And that other pile… the bones hadn't even fully retracted. A bone membrane still covered parts of it.
But the cuts were unnaturally smooth.
"Understood," one said quickly. "Please wait. We'll verify the bodies—about thirty minutes."
The other added, "I'll prepare your payment first."
Hanzo watched them carefully.
"No scalpel… they're using kunai. And the way the other one counts money—too clumsy."
"So this exchange has been taken over… Danzo, huh."
Before long, the two returned.
"Sir. The bodies check out. Here's your bounty."
One handed him a money box.
"And this is our compensation for the intel error—five million, on top of the bounty."
"From now on, all intel will be provided for free."
Smart.
Hanzo nodded, then opened the money box and counted bill by bill.
"Good. No counterfeits."
The way he counted made the two of them stare.
They knew who this man really was. But this behavior…
Was this really the so-called demigod?
If not for the bodies in front of them, they wouldn't have believed it.
Hanzo looked up. "I'll find the third target myself. Don't bother. Just have the bounty ready."
"Yes, sir! We look forward to your next visit!"
"No problem. You're the only ones with these jobs."
After Hanzo left, the two workers re-sealed the bodies into a scroll and summoned a messenger beast to deliver it.
Soon, those corpses would become Danzo's war merits.
And at the same time, on the Mist front…
A technique called "Thousand Years of Death" began to make Kirigakure shinobi tremble at the mere mention of it.
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