The screaming stops before it even begins.
A fist drives into a throat.A blade slips between ribs.A heel crushes a knee inward with a snap like dry twigs.
Normal criminals.No training.No chakra.No chance.
I move through them like a ghost made of steel and instinct — the perfect fusion of Uchiha taijutsu and the swordsmanship drilled into Itachi's soul. Every motion is precise, efficient, beautiful in its brutality.
A man swings a pipe.I catch his wrist, twist, and drive my tanto into his heart.He collapses before he understands he's dead.
Another man raises a gun.I'm already behind him, my arm sliding around his neck.One twist.Silence.
Warm blood paints the concrete beneath my boots. The warehouse smells of oil, metal, and fear. My Sharingan tracks their movements long before they make them. Each of them falls within seconds, faceless bodies disappearing under perfect execution.
I'm not doing this for money; I could buy this entire block if I wanted.No — I'm doing this because missions expand my system.Because growth requires tasks.Because the stronger I become, the safer I remain in this insane world.
And because, deep down…This is the only place I feel honest.
One last criminal tries to crawl toward the exit.Pitiful.
I appear beside him and end it with a single clean cut.
Silence returns.
For a moment.
Then—
DING.
A sound vibrates through my skull, deeper than before.Heavier.Older.
[New Template Acquired — Tobirama Senju][Host: Please develop this template properly.]
My breath stops.
Tobirama Senju.Second Hokage.Master of water.Inventor of techniques that shape the shinobi world.The fastest man alive before Minato.
This is… absurdly powerful.Even one percent of him would be lethal.
A dark thrill coils through me.
I step back, surveying the blood-soaked floor.No survivors.No witnesses.
With a slow inhale, I form the hand seals.
Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu.
A roaring sphere of fire erupts from my lips, crashing into the warehouse interior.Flames engulf everything — bodies, crates, weapons — all erased in a storm of crimson heat.
The structure groans before collapsing inward, a burning tomb swallowing every trace of tonight's massacre.
Perfect.
I turn away from the blaze, stepping into the cold Gotham night.My chakra pulses.My body dissolves into feathers.
Black wings erupt around me as my form scatters into a flock of crows, spiraling upward into the dark sky.
I vanish into the night, leaving behind only smoke…and the whisper of death.