The System's explanation continued, its tone carrying scholarly interest mixed with contempt.
[It's just a minor demon god,] the System said dismissively. [Not native to the ninja world at all. Someone from another realm must have carried an item containing this entity's essence—probably through dimensional exile or accidental breach. Then a ninja discovered the power contained within and developed it into a technique.]
[The deity feeds on consumed souls to grow stronger, channeling that energy back to its true body across dimensional barriers.]
[However,] and here the System's tone became even more disdainful, [even its main body exists only in a lower-tier realm. Its strength wouldn't be particularly impressive even at full power. And this manifestation? This projection reaching across the endless void between dimensions? It possesses less than one ten-thousandth of the original's strength.]
[Your Opening the Netherworld technique can break through it easily, Naruto. This isn't a real threat.]
Hearing the System's analysis, Naruto's eyes fixed on the Shinigami projection with new understanding. His mind processed implications rapidly.
The Reaper Death Seal is an S-rank forbidden technique, Naruto thought, recalling information. Father taught me about it through his chakra imprint. Passed the knowledge directly into my mind along with all his other techniques.
He used this seal during the Nine-Tails attack. Sealed half of Nine-Tails' chakra—the Yin attribute, the negative aspects—along with portions of his own soul into this deity's stomach.
A realization struck with the force of physical impact.
Which means I can retrieve that Yin chakra. Can recover Father's soul fragments from this so-called god's belly.
The System had already told him that once he achieved true immortality, once he stepped into eternal existence, he could resurrect his parents using the soul remnants preserved in his seal. The amount was sufficient for full restoration.
But as the System had said so dismissively—a little demon god dared to covet his father's remnant soul?
When my body achieves sanctification in the future, Naruto promised silently, I'll hunt this entity down across endless spacetime and beat it properly. But for now? I'll start by destroying its projection.
Another thought occurred to him, tangential but suddenly important.
Wait. Nine-Tails is currently sealed in my body as Yang attribute chakra—the positive half that Father released and the System liberated. The Yin chakra is in Death's stomach.
So why does Nine-Tails—Yang attribute, theoretically masculine—go to the women's bath during hot spring visits?
The question was genuinely puzzling.
Could the Nine-Tails' gender not be simply determined by yin-yang attributes? Can it change character at will? Transform between masculine and feminine presentations freely?
The implications were mildly terrifying.
Fortunately, Nine-Tails is just a tailed beast. If it were human with that ability to freely shift gender presentation, wouldn't that create incredibly complicated romantic situations?
Naruto's mind shied away from exploring that particular rabbit hole.
Focus. Kill the god of death first. Retrieve Nine-Tails' Yin chakra and Father's soul fragments. Then I can ask Nine-Tails about the gender question directly.
The belief projection of a demon god from another realm. Indeed, there was no true "god of death" native to the ninja world—at least, that was the consensus among everyone who studied such matters.
This entity was foreign. Invasive. Parasitic.
"System," Naruto said internally, his consciousness addressing the presence in his mind, "when I destroy this Shinigami, can you help me capture Nine-Tails' Yin chakra and my father's soul? Extract them before they're lost?"
[That depends on timing and luck,] the System replied thoughtfully. [This deity exiled an item containing its essence to your world. When summoned through that anchor, the souls it devours get transmitted back to the main body. They serve as training resources—fuel for growth.]
[If the main body hasn't consumed those specific souls yet, I can use the Universal Single Replacement Method to retrieve your father's remnants and Nine-Tails' Yin chakra before they're digested.]
"Universal Single Replacement Method?" Naruto's curiosity was genuine. "What's that?"
[White wolf with empty gloves,] the System said with unmistakable smugness. [I don't need to provide anything in exchange. Just reach across dimensional barriers and take what we want from the opposite side. Complete theft without cost or consequence.]
"That's really powerful," Naruto admitted with appreciation.
"Then I'll leave it to you, System. Handle the retrieval."
[Understood. I'll execute when the moment arrives.]
Naruto's communication with the System occurred entirely through consciousness. Sarutobi Hiruzen, watching from outside, had no idea that Naruto had already calculated how to rob the Shinigami blind.
However, looking at Naruto's transformed height—exceeding twenty meters, dwarfing even the supposedly terrifying death deity—then looking back at the Shinigami he'd summoned, Hiruzen felt his confidence waver slightly.
The Shinigami's presence is intimidating, but its physical scale is... inadequate. Can't you grow taller? Match the opponent's size?
The thought was absurd and desperate.
"Naruto," Hiruzen said, forcing conviction into his voice, "give up. I will protect Konoha until my final breath. Don't try to destroy what I've built."
His hand extended, reaching toward Naruto's massive form.
Following Sarutobi Hiruzen's gesture, the Shinigami behind him moved in perfect synchronization. Its empty right hand mirrored the Hokage's motion, stretching toward Naruto. Simultaneously, its left hand—the one holding prayer beads—reached toward its own mouth, grasping the wakizashi blade held between fanged teeth.
The Shinigami would use that ritual suicide blade to split Naruto's soul. Would swallow the severed pieces into its belly.
After that, it would consume Sarutobi Hiruzen's soul as payment for the summoning. The caster's price. Then both souls—Naruto's and Hiruzen's—would exist trapped in the deity's stomach, hating each other for eternity.
A perfect seal. An inescapable fate.
However, the Shinigami had made one critical error.
It had encountered Naruto.
"Can it be broken?" Naruto asked quietly, watching the Shinigami's right hand approach with ponderous inevitability.
[Opening the Netherworld will shatter it,] the System confirmed. [If one strike isn't enough, use two. Three. As many as needed.]
When the Shinigami's right hand closed to within five meters, Naruto moved.
His fists blurred into motion. Not a single punch—a storm of strikes. One technique executed a thousand times in rapid succession.
Opening the Netherworld. Opening the Netherworld. Opening the Netherworld.
Thousand Buddhas Ascend to Heaven.
In a single breath, in the span of perhaps two heartbeats, Naruto delivered one thousand Opening the Netherworld strikes directly at the Shinigami projection.
Did death have fear? Could a god of death experience terror?
Yes. Death's fear was death itself—the concept of non-existence, the ending of eternity.
As a long-lived species, as an entity that had persisted across ages, the Shinigami's instinctive dread of cessation ran deeper than any mortal could comprehend. Even this projection, this fraction of consciousness separated from the main body, carried that fundamental terror encoded in its essence.
Under the assault of a thousand Opening the Netherworld strikes, the projection began to shake violently. Like a candle flame caught in gale winds. Flickering. Struggling. Failing.
The technique specifically targeted mental and spiritual structures. And the Shinigami projection was primarily consciousness—belief given form, essence stretched across dimensional barriers.
Vulnerable. Exposed. Defenseless against an attack designed for exactly this type of entity.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The sounds were more conceptual than physical. Reality itself protesting as spiritual construct met spiritual assault.
In an instant, the Shinigami projection was riddled with holes. Torn. Broken. Its outstretched right hand—the one reaching to claim Naruto's soul—shattered completely.
"WHAT?!" Sarutobi Hiruzen's shock was absolute. His voice cracked with disbelief.
The Reaper Death Seal was supposed to be absolute. Inescapable. The ultimate price-for-price technique that guaranteed mutual destruction.
But Naruto had just demolished the Shinigami like it was made of paper.
[Universal Single Replacement Method,] the System announced. [Executing now.]
A wonderful wave emanated from Naruto's consciousness. It manifested as something almost visible—countless threads of intent spreading outward, wrapping around the Shinigami's damaged projection.
Reaching. Grasping. Taking.
Somewhere in a lower-tier dimensional realm, in a location that existed outside conventional space, deep within an endless abyss, the true god of death was dozing.
It appeared vaguely humanoid but wrong in fundamental ways. Too many joints. Proportions that hurt mortal eyes to observe. Skin like ash mixed with grave dirt.
Beside the sleeping deity sat a balance—metaphysical scales that measured soul-weight. On those scales floated numerous translucent forms. Souls. Consumed by all its belief projections across multiple worlds, transmitted back to feed the main body.
Every time the deity completed a sleep cycle and woke, it would feast on accumulated souls. Savor their essence. Grow marginally stronger.
Suddenly, pain lanced through the deity's consciousness.
Its eyes—too many eyes, positioned incorrectly—snapped open. The doze shattered.
"It HURTS!" The god of death's voice carried across the abyss like thunder. "Someone is beating my belief projection!"
Understanding flooded through its mind instantly. Complete awareness of the situation despite the vast distance.
"Let me see," it growled, already beginning to cast complex techniques, "which daring creature shows such disrespect to my manifestation."
Its perception stretched across dimensions, following connections back to the ninja world, finding the projection it had exiled there centuries ago.
"It's quite far," the deity mused, calculation replacing rage. "But I can send a trace of myself. A fragment of true power to reinforce the projection."
The cost would be substantial. Sending even a fraction of its main consciousness across such distances required tremendous energy expenditure.
"But disrespect cannot be tolerated," the god of death decided. "If you're not prepared to respect me, be prepared to bear my wrath."
Its form began to shift, to compress. A portion of its essence separating, preparing for the journey.
"My coming will herald the death of all living beings in that realm," the deity proclaimed to the empty abyss. "No creature can bear my anger. None can withstand my true attention."
"I am Death. And Death has come."
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