The civilians of Kazama City now found themselves inside Arata's Kamui dimension.
The space here was vast—no smaller than the ninja continent itself.
Yet it was nothing like the real world.
As far as the eye could see, there was only an endless expanse of irregular, fragmented geometry—silent, cold, and alien.
And not far from them stood a sight that left everyone utterly stunned.
A monster.
It had nine tails that blotted out the sky, and even while lying prone, its massive body still towered over twenty meters high. If it stood upright, it would easily exceed a hundred meters.
This monster was none other than the Nine-Tails Fox of the Land of Fire.
During the Warring States period, the Nine-Tails had once rampaged freely across the Land of Fire, becoming a living nightmare etched into the nation's collective memory.
Its power was such that even a Kage could not necessarily face it head-on.
Back then, no one dared to provoke it.
Wherever the Nine-Tails passed, cities were reduced to rubble, and casualties often numbered in the thousands—or worse. At the time, the Nine-Tails despised humans, and every appearance ended in catastrophic slaughter.
In fact, a major reason the Land of Fire's population had once been so sparse was because of this very beast.
Though decades had passed since the Warring States period—and most who had lived through it were long dead—the legends of the Nine-Tails still circulated widely.
Everyone here also knew that Uzumaki Mito, the Nine-Tails' jinchūriki, had sealed the beast within herself. Since then, there had been no incidents.
While the Uzumaki clan was often treated coldly by the Land of Fire, Uzumaki Mito herself had earned widespread respect.
And yet—
Here the Nine-Tails was, in the flesh.
That alone was enough to leave the crowd bewildered and uneasy.
"H-Hey… look! That's the Nine-Tails Fox!"
"Those nine tails—there's no mistaking it!"
"I saw it once in my youth… it's definitely the Nine-Tails. But wasn't it sealed inside Mito-hime?"
"Where are we? There's barely any light… no sun at all."
"This looks like space–time ninjutsu. If so, this place should be safe, right?"
"Safe? That thing is right there! What if it goes berserk?"
"Idiot! Arata-sama told us not to move. As long as we stay put, nothing will happen!"
"Wait—look closely. Do you see those faint blue streaks on its limbs and tails?"
At that last comment, everyone finally dared to look more carefully.
And sure enough—
The Nine-Tails' limbs, tails, and core body were all bound by barely visible threads of blue lightning.
From a distance, those threads looked thin—almost negligible. But if anyone could get closer, they would realize the truth:
Each "thread" was actually a bolt of lightning as thick as a grown man's waist.
They didn't merely restrain the Nine-Tails—they continuously discharged electricity, producing a low, ominous hum.
The lightning was attacking it.
This was Arata's safeguard.
There was no way he would ever allow civilians to remain in the same space as the Nine-Tails without protection.
Even though the beast was currently unconscious, Arata refused to take chances.
Only with complete mastery over lightning could one create restraints like these. In terms of durability, even a Tailed Beast Bomb wouldn't be able to destroy them.
And the electrical output was no joke—it was the strongest lightning from Arata's Second Gear state.
Forget the Nine-Tails—even Uchiha Madara, without full Susanoo, wouldn't dare take it head-on.
Kurama wasn't unconscious because it was merely exhausted.
It was being repeatedly shocked into unconsciousness.
Every time it stirred, the lightning struck again, instantly knocking it back out.
Until Arata mastered Wood Style or sealing techniques, this was the most reliable way to control the Nine-Tails.
Frankly, Kurama had it rough.
First, it had been toyed with by Uchiha Madara, drained nearly dry by consecutive Tailed Beast Bombs.
Then, just as it escaped Madara's grasp, it fell straight into Arata's hands.
If not for its monstrous vitality, it would have already turned into a roasted fox.
Meanwhile, as the civilians of Kazama City were still reeling from the sight of the restrained Nine-Tails, more people began appearing around them.
Groups from neighboring towns were being transported in as well.
Those familiar with the distance between settlements were utterly shaken.
This wasn't just beyond ninjutsu.
It was miraculous.
From the moment they arrived here to now, barely a minute had passed—yet Arata had already reached towns more than ten kilometers away and evacuated them.
In the minds of ordinary people, even elite jōnin or Kage-level shinobi couldn't accomplish something like this.
And this was only the beginning.
Wave after wave of civilians continued to arrive.
Only then did everyone fully understand—
Arata wasn't just saving Kazama City.
He was trying to save every civilian along the eastern coastline of the Land of Fire from the tsunami.
That meant relocating the populations of countless villages and cities—an entire stretch of coastline—into this space.
Even civilians with no chakra or knowledge of ninjutsu could understand how staggering that cost must be.
Yet inside the Kamui dimension, no one shouted or panicked anymore.
Having grasped the scale of what Arata was doing, they could only pray silently—that he wouldn't be swallowed by the waves himself.
As for Arata?
He felt this was one of the simplest decisions he had ever made.
Easier, even, than the choice he once made to support Tsunade earlier than Dan Katō ever had.
After all, this was merely transporting people into Kamui.
And his Kamui had been modified by the system—it consumed stamina, not ocular power.
For someone who had already reached the peak of Super-Kage level, this level of expenditure was practically negligible.