Somewhere deep within the remote, mountainous terrain surrounding the Land of Rivers, a hidden base buzzed with activity. Countless mysterious figures hurried about, all wearing long black robes and necklaces bearing a silver pendant—a circle with a triangle inside.
"Shinji Akagi, Hidan. Once the blood draw is complete, commence today's Taijutsu sparring session."
"Yes, Lord Takiki."
Bang! Thud!
Inside a spacious, dimly lit stone chamber, two figures clashed under the flickering glow of torches. The brutal, meaty sound of fists connecting with flesh hadn't stopped since the session began.
One figure was knocked to the ground, only to immediately lunge back up like a rabid dog.
The other did exactly the same.
As the fight dragged on and their stamina rapidly depleted, all semblance of technique faded. It devolved from a spar into a pure, raw contest of willpower.
You throw a punch. I throw a kick. Let's see who stays down first.
Honestly, it wasn't a brilliant or awe-inspiring battle to watch. These were just two fourteen or fifteen-year-old boys. Their Taijutsu wasn't particularly refined, and they severely lacked technical skill.
However, if one looked solely at the raw power and damage tolerance these two boys displayed, it was obvious their physical conditioning far exceeded the baseline for their age group.
Because of this, the black-robed cultists surrounding the chamber didn't stop scribbling on their clipboards, meticulously recording every detail, even if the fight itself lacked finesse.
After all, this wasn't a ninja academy class. It was a daily observation experiment.
"Alright, that's enough for today. Rest for an hour, and then we will proceed with your Cursed Technique studies."
The speaker was a middle-aged man who looked to be in his late forties. Unlike the others in their standard black robes, he wore a dark crimson cloak. A kind, genial smile was permanently plastered across his face, making him look like a friendly uncle from a neighboring village.
But looks can be deceiving. This warm, benevolent-looking man was the sole founder of the Jashin Cult. Preaching "endless slaughter" as his core doctrine, he secretly expanded the cult's influence while ruthlessly massacring the surrounding populations.
Before anyone realized it, the Jashin Cult had become a taboo existence throughout the Land of Rivers!
Hearing the order, the two boys—both with their fists raised inches from each other's faces—finally froze.
"Tch. Consider yourself lucky. Another second and my fist would have caved your skull in!"
The boy who spoke first glared with bloodshot, purplish-red eyes. He had slicked-back silver hair and wore a scratched-out Hidden Steam Village headband around his neck. He grumbled, aggressively annoyed.
If you ignored the fact that he was panting heavily, covered in bruises, and coated in dirt, his threat might have actually sounded intimidating.
The boy withdrawing his fist on the other side was roughly the same height. He had short, spiky brown hair, pale skin, and cold, sharp features.
But entirely contrary to his somewhat "frail" appearance, this guy fought like an absolute maniac with a death wish. His sheer ruthlessness in combat was genuinely chilling.
If anyone bothered to look closer, they'd realize this "delicate," handsome boy was anything but gentle. In fact, he was a bastard with an utterly rotten personality.
Hearing his opponent talk tough again, the brown-haired boy spoke up, his tone utterly deadpan.
"With those soft, honey-glazed muffin fists of yours? If your goal was to give me diabetes, then I have to admit, Hidan, you succeeded."
"SHINJI! AKAGI! You bastard, I'm going to kill you!"
Hidan, whose trash-talk was always aggressively outmatched, instantly flared with murderous intent.
"How dare you insult my iron fists?! Jashin above, you're a dead man today!"
"Oh, my apologies. I really shouldn't have said that..." Shinji replied, not backing down an inch. In fact, he stepped forward, pressing his forehead directly against Hidan's chest. With every word, he shoved Hidan backward. "...After all, compared to those wimps who just pull hair and scratch faces, at least you don't cry for your mommy when you get hit!"
Hidan's eyes turned completely red as he was forced to step back.
He looked down, only to see Shinji staring back up at him with a look that clearly screamed: 'I'm giving you a chance, but you're too useless to take it!'
That was it. Hidan finally snapped.
"DIE!"
With a furious roar, Hidan ripped a pitch-black spear from his robes. Under the somewhat exasperated gazes of the cultists watching, he drove it straight through Shinji's heart!
Squelch!!!
It hurts!
It fucking hurts!
Even though this wasn't his first time experiencing death, the sensation of having his heart punctured was still agonizingly clear and utterly unbearable.
But in the exact same fraction of a second that Hidan drove the spear through his heart, Shinji moved.
His hand shot out, driving a kunai with surgical precision directly into Hidan's throat, burying it to the hilt!
It was obvious from the start. Shinji had anticipated Hidan's exact move. Instead of dodging, he chose to simultaneously strike for the kill.
He was a man who was ruthless to others, but even more ruthless to himself.
Thud...
Shinji Akagi and Hidan collapsed onto their backs simultaneously.
One with a pierced heart. One with a slit throat.
For any normal human being, suffering such catastrophic, fatal injuries meant certain death, even if a squad of elite medical-nin started working on them immediately.
But the strangest part? The people watching didn't even flinch. No one rushed forward to help.
They remained entirely apathetic and cold. Seeing the two boys mutually assassinate each other didn't even warrant a change in expression.
Then, a moment later, the corpse on the floor known as Hidan slowly raised an arm. His hand gripped the kunai lodged in his neck, and with a sickening tug, he ripped it out!
Pfft... Clatter!
"Cough... hack... pant... blegh!" Hidan cursed internally as he staggered back to his feet. (Fuck... that hurts... that really fucking hurts, you bastard!)
The kunai he tossed aside was coated in blood. But despite his throat being laid open, he wasn't dead. He was very much alive, and the wound was already rapidly knitting itself back together!
On the other side of the room, exactly three seconds after 'dying,' Shinji regained consciousness.
Under the watchful eyes of the cultists, the completely dead Shinji Akagi suddenly snapped his eyes open. He climbed up from the floor without a word, casually yanked the black spear out of his own chest, and tossed it away.
Since whatever twisted fate had dragged him into this terrifying Ninja World, he had no choice but to adapt, whether that meant killing or being killed!
Spit!
Spitting out a mouthful of bloody saliva, Shinji, who had literally just died a second ago, instantly opened his mouth again.
"Is that it? Seriously? My dead grandma hits harder than you!"
Hidan ground his teeth so hard they nearly cracked, but there was absolutely nothing he could do.
After all, as the only two survivors of the "Ritual," they had both achieved a true [Immortal Body]. It was undeniably Lord Jashin's ultimate blessing!
Truth be told, this wasn't the first time Hidan had lost his temper and tried to murder Shinji.
But it felt like Shinji was his absolute natural counter. Every single time they fought, Hidan never managed to gain the upper hand. It always ended in mutual destruction or him getting counter-killed.
Even on the rare occasion Hidan successfully ambushed him, he suffered Shinji's psychotic retaliation afterward.
Hidan vividly remembered the time Shinji chopped his head off and buried it deep underground. He absolutely did not want to experience that nightmare a second time!
It had taken the entire Jashin Cult—hundreds of people—playing a "treasure hunt" for three days and three nights before Lord Takiki finally lost his temper. Only then did Shinji casually point to a random tree...
Since that day, the bad blood between the two of them was permanently cemented. It also served as a brutal wake-up call to everyone in the cult that Shinji Akagi was a terrifying bastard with a truly twisted personality.
That was also the main reason Hidan had spent most of the spar just running his mouth, only attacking when he was pushed over the absolute edge.
Otherwise, with Hidan's normal temper, anyone who dared run their mouth in front of him would have been chopped into eight pieces long ago!
"Enough of this boring little game, children. It seems you both have an excess of energy. In that case, your rest period is canceled. Proceed immediately to Chamber Two. The materials have already been prepared."
Lord Takiki, who had happily watched the farce without intervening, finally spoke.
Honestly, he was quite pleased. Thanks to the boys' incredibly petty, vengeful rivalry, the cult had managed to gather an enormous amount of priceless experimental data over the past month.
Knowing that continuing to argue was pointless, Hidan snorted coldly, turned on his heel, and stalked off.