Chapter 14: The Hand-Kiss! An Invitation from Hell
The stench of blood.
A thick, nauseating rust-like smell instantly filled the luxurious private box.
As Konan's slender fingers lifted the lid of the gift box, Maeda's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.
A withered human head lay quietly on the silk lining. The blood at the severed neck had already congealed into a dark brown, and those dead eyes stared fixedly at the ceiling—it was the Security Force captain who had been swaggering about that very day, Kawakura Izumi!
'Ugh—!'
The violent visual impact triggered a wave of nausea. Maeda's stomach cramped, and he collapsed to the ground, covering his mouth as bile seeped uncontrollably through his fingers.
'Don't be in such a hurry to throw up.'
Yahiko's voice was languid and icy, like a wind blowing from the depths of Hell.
'Rustle.'
Countless paper sheets flew out from Konan's sleeve like white butterflies, folding and assembling mid-air before turning into a written contract that floated down onto the vomit-covered floor.
It was the 'new order' of the Hidden Rain Village's underworld.
'In Hanzou's eyes, you're just a fat money-grubbing worm he can crush whenever he feels like.'
Yahiko toyed with the ring on his finger, looking down coldly at the trembling fat man at his feet: 'But I'm different. I want to build a new order, and violence alone isn't enough—I also need a steward who understands the rules.'
'Maeda, this is a multiple-choice question.'
Yahiko leaned forward slightly, and a crushing pressure descended like a collapsing mountain: 'Choose "life
and you
ll be second only to one in the new Amegakure; choose "death", and this box can"t fit two heads, but I can squeeze.
Dead silence.
Only Maeda's ragged breathing could be heard, like an old bellows.
He looked at the head, then at the devilish contract.
This was a desperate gamble! Win, and he'd rise to glory; lose, and he'd be doomed forever! But the question was... had that so-called "demigod" ever given him a choice?
No!
Gritting his teeth, Maeda's obese frame clambered up from the floor, snatched the pen, and scrawled the name that would get him flayed alive by Hanzou.
The next second.
He dropped to his knees, prostrating himself at Yahiko's feet with unprecedented reverence. Cupping Yahiko's right hand bearing the "Zero" ring, he lowered his trembling head and pressed his pale lips to the cold metal.
'I pledge my life to you... my Godfather.'
A satisfied curve tugged at the corner of Yahiko's mouth.
At this moment, the underground throne of the Hidden Rain Village changed hands!
...Late at night, the rain grew heavier.
In the abandoned warehouse district, the rain curtain hung like a black veil, concealing every trace of murderous intent.
Dozens of shadows crouched like ghosts on rooftops and in the gloom, cold Kunai glinting in the rain.
The man in the lead wore a custom mask—Shinda, the sharpest fang under Hanzou's command, head of the Anbu.
'Are you sure?'
Shinda's voice was distorted by the rain, only the eyes outside the mask gleaming with viperish coldness.
'Absolutely! Ten-thousand percent sure!'
Maeda beamed, rain streaming down his greasy cheeks, making him look both wretched and fawning: 'Lord Shinda, give me ten times the guts and I still wouldn't dare lie to you! Those two fools, Yahiko and Konan, tried to win me over—pure daydreaming! I pretended to agree and then sold them out to you!'
He thumped his chest, playing the profit-driven scoundrel to perfection: 'As long as we kill these two wanted criminals, you'll be number one in front of Lord Hanzou! Then, heh-heh, my little business...'
Shinda shot him a cold glance.
This gutter rat never spoke a true word.
'What, Lord Shinda doesn't trust me?' Maeda rubbed his hands, panicking inside. 'I don't have a shred of Chakra; you could crush me with one finger—how would I dare play tricks?'
Just as Shinda hesitated.
In the distance, a graceful figure under an oil-paper umbrella walked unhurriedly through the warehouse gate.
Blue hair, paper flowers, an icy demeanor.
It was that woman—Konan!
The intel was confirmed.
The doubt in Shinda's eyes vanished, replaced by bloodthirsty fervor.
'Well done.'
Shinda clapped Maeda's shoulder so hard he nearly planted the fat man in the mud. 'After this is over, you'll get your reward.'
'Thank you, my lord! Thank you!' Maeda bowed frantically and turned to slip away.
An iron-pincer hand clamped the back of his neck.
'But just to be safe...' Shinda grinned and dragged Maeda like a dead dog. 'You're coming in with us.'
'Huh? No, my lord! I'm a law-abiding citizen! I suffer from blood-phobia...'
Before Maeda's pig-like squeal could finish, Shinda cut him off.
'Move! Leave no one alive!'
Boom!
Shinda kicked the rusted iron gate flying, and dozens of elite Anbu poured into the warehouse like wolves.
Bright lights.
At a battered wooden table, Yahiko and Konan were holding rice bowls. When they saw the killers burst in, their chopsticks clattered onto the table, their faces showing perfectly timed terror and shock.
'This is the ruthless guy who killed Kawakura Izumi? He looks like a scared kid.'
Shinda sneered inwardly, yet prudence kept him from closing in.
Even a lion uses full force to catch a rabbit.
'No chatter! Carpet-bomb them!!'
At Shinda's order, the Anbu elites behind him flickered through hand signs.
'Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!'
'Water Release: Wild Water Wave!'
Rumble—!!
Crimson flame and raging water collided violently in the cramped space, the extreme heat instantly detonating water molecules.
Sss—!
Terrifying white steam mushroomed up, swallowing Yahiko and Konan in an instant and turning the warehouse into a searing steamer.
'So this is the so-called Akatsuki leader? Pathetic.'
Maeda lay on the ground shivering; Shinda sneered. He formed seals, and a fierce whirlwind condensed in his palm.
'Wind Release: Violent Wind Palm!'
The howling wind tore the dense mist apart.
Shinda narrowed his eyes, ready to admire two scalded corpses.
However.
The instant the mist cleared, his smile froze on his face.