Tosuke, cautious, had spent days next door while a henchman wore his face, all for this moment.
The outcome shocked him.
Shaking his bruised knuckles, he steadied himself, hand throbbing.
His gaze locked on Mamoru, mind reeling.
What kind of monster?
To spot the trap, counter instantly, and pack that freakish strength… and still be a child.
"Big guy."
Mamoru's voice jerked him back.
He flicked his wrist in casual praise. "Not bad, pretty strong."
Blue eyes blazing, he smiled. "Try not to break too fast."
"Hmph, don't get cocky!" Tosuke growled, Adam's apple bobbing as he glared at Mamoru, thick fingers curling into fists, the veins on the backs of his hands writhing like earthworms.
Mamoru strolled forward two lazy steps, light-footed as if on a walk. Tosuke mirrored him, retreating. Between them, the distance stayed delicately, dangerously constant.
"Relax." Mamoru said, halting with a faint twitch at the corner of his eye.
He spread one hand, smile barely there. "Surrender now and I'll consider letting you live. I can clock out early, skip the overtime."
"Surrender?" Tosuke hissed the word through clenched teeth. "You think that's happening?"
"What's impossible in this world?"
Mamoru opened his arms, then flicked a finger at the bigger man, voice dripping mockery. "Take you, big as a house, yet you love back-stabbing ambushes. I bet you can't sleep without hugging a plushie. How else did you pick up such petty habits?"
"Shut your mouth!" Tosuke's roar shook the air, veins throbbing at his temples.
"A plushie and a tough guy, hahaha…" Mamoru covered one eye, shoulders shaking with laughter, as if the picture were too vivid.
"Iron tenderness... Sleeping with a stuffed toy. Too beautiful to look at."
Tosuke stared, bloodshot eyes fixed on the strange boy, every inch of him coiled.
He never imagined he'd fear a half-grown kid but the absurd reality left him no choice.
Even now, with Mamoru laughing wildly and seemingly wide open, Tosuke dared not strike.
The earlier ambush had taught him: a frontal fight here would end badly.
He forced down the surging rage, mind racing like a cornered beast.
"Tosuke… help me…"
Hiroshi wailed from the floor.
The carnage had stunned him, only now did he find his voice. He lay amid the wrecked tatami, fine kimono smeared with dust and splinters, fat body quivering.
"Please… save me…"
Tosuke had no time for the useless fat man. His gaze never left Mamoru a few steps away, every nerve screaming.
"Hey! I mock you this badly and you still hold it in?" Mamoru asked, half admiring. "I'm starting to respect you."
He had insulted, taunted, even left openings, yet Tosuke stayed rooted, unmoving.
A cold grunt was his only answer, eyes like ice, tracking every twitch.
Mamoru murmured, voice dropping to a lethal hush, "Better speak now, or you'll never speak again."
Before the words faded, pale-pink petals drifted down, settling on the ruined tatami.
Mamoru knew they were a Genjutsu.
The cherry-boughs writhed, reshaping into Kurenai's lovely face.
"Mamoru, finish him."
"He's too patient, won't bite no matter how I bait him." Mamoru curled his lip, the act was wearing thin.
Thick branches lunged at Tosuke and Hiroshi, twining like serpents around Hiroshi's limbs. Hiroshi thrashed and squealed like a stuck pig.
Tosuke bit his lip, tasting blood, hands flashing through seals. The instant the genjutsu broke, he sprang back, forming hand seals again.
Water Release: Hiding in Mist Jutsu!
His cheeks puffed and dense white fog gushed out, swallowing the room.
Sight died in the swirling white.
The spectral cherry-tree stilled, fading in and out.
Tosuke knew he had to escape the cramped space. Against this eerie boy and a hidden genjutsu user, he'd only be beaten.
He crouched, ready to bolt through the broken wall. But as he turned, killing intent froze him and a fist ripped past, tearing the air.
"Oh, dodged?"
Mamoru watched Tosuke roll and sprint for the hole, amused.
"Run? Not so fast." Mamoru raised his hand and a pale-blue orb howled forth, twisting space.
Titanic gravity erupted, dragging debris in a roaring tide toward the fleeing man.
Tosuke sensed the danger behind him and flung himself sideways, narrowly dodging the terrifying strike. Splinters of wood sliced his cheek.
"What kind of Ninjutsu is this?"
For all his experience, he couldn't identify such a bizarre attack.
He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the dust on his clothes, and charged toward a closed door on the other side.
Boom!
The door shattered under his force. He fled along the dim corridor, his footsteps echoing in the emptiness. After only a few strides, alarm bells rang in his mind again, he skidded to a halt and leapt back.
Before he could steady himself, a deafening bang erupted. The walls on both sides of where he'd stood were crushed by twisting blue light, the debris drawn together into a roaring torrent that thundered down the corridor.
The sight left Tosuke shaken—half a second slower and he'd have been swallowed by it.
Without hesitation, he spun and ran the opposite way. There was no time to figure out what Ninjutsu this was.
"Missed again?"
Mamoru gripped the broken edge of the wall, stepping from the shadows with a slight frown. "As expected, Blue is only good for defense and counterattacks?"
He'd expected it: against Chunin or stronger, Blue lost the initiative. It was too easy to dodge, and the need for speed had gutted its power.
The repeated misses still stung.
In moments, Tosuke had vanished, only faint footfalls echoed in the distance.
Mamoru didn't rush the chase. He walked to the hole he'd blasted and took the shortcut.
Even if walls blocked the way, Blue smashed them aside, carving a path. Soon he reached a vast, luxurious garden with a pond and pavilion.
Stone lamps set into the lawn cast soft light over meticulously trimmed plants. Hidden lights beneath the corners and pond shimmered on the water and rustling leaves, turning the nightscape into a dream.
Mamoru stopped under the corridor roof, silently marveling, "The Nishimura family is filthy rich."
His gaze settled on the pavilion at the pond's center. Tosuke stood inside, back to him, his shadow long and resolute in the lamplight.
Mamoru cursed, "Still posing at death's door."
"Speak up, how much did Komatsu pay you?" Tosuke asked, voice calm yet probing across the water.
"A hundred million ryo." Mamoru replied without hesitation, clear in the quiet garden.
"A hundred... million!?" Tosuke nearly bit his tongue, then barked, "You're mocking me! Impossible!"
"Too much?"
Mamoru thought it too little—about six million US dollars in his past life, not enough to risk his neck.
As for Komatsu's promised 'half,' he didn't know the exact figure, but the man's manner had hinted it was big.
"Maybe I'm wrong, maybe two hundred million..." Mamoru said, tone flippant.
Knowing he was being toyed with, Tosuke's face darkened.