Chapter 97: Snake Style: Viper Strike
Ronin shook his head. This ability was a niche hybrid of Transmutation and Enhancement. While he could copy it with the Sharingan, it didn't fit his own combat style. Still, he cataloged it as a useful addition to his arsenal of "borrowed" techniques.
Time for a live-fire test, Ronin thought.
His eyes shifted into the Mangekyō Sharingan.
During the assassination of Isley, the radius of his spatial freeze had been far too large, causing unnecessary strain. This time, he intended to test if he could refine Amenotokotachi to target a specific point in space—locking only a portion of the enemy's body.
The power of his left eye flared. In that instant, the space occupied by the Vulture's lunging arm turned to stone.
No matter how hard the Vulture tried to channel his Nen, his arm remained soft and useless, suspended in a pocket of frozen time.
It was as if the limb had been suddenly encased in invisible, unbreakable concrete.
Ronin took a step forward. He didn't attack the frozen arm; that would be foolish. If he entered that pocket of stasis, he would be frozen too.
He didn't need to touch the arm. He only needed to strike the man attached to it.
The Vulture was a sitting duck, anchored to a point in space he couldn't move from. Unless he was willing to rip his own arm off like a lizard shedding its tail, he was trapped.
The Vulture realized the danger instantly. This wasn't just a "weird ability"—this was a violation of the laws of physics.
"I surrender!" the Vulture shrieked. He valued his life more than his pride or his limb.
He was too slow.
As the words left his mouth, Ronin's fist bypassed the frozen zone and slammed into the center of the man's chest.
CRACK!
The sound of the sternum shattering echoed like a dry branch snapping. Ronin's fist plowed straight through the bone and into the organs beneath.
Blood erupted from the Vulture's mouth. He looked down at the massive cavity in his chest with wide, uncomprehending eyes. "You... I—"
Gurgle.
His lungs were pulverized. Blood flooded his windpipe, drowning his final words.
Ronin retracted his fist and stepped back, deactivating Amenotokotachi.
With the spatial support gone, the Vulture's body lost its anchor. He stumbled back, staring at Ronin with a face full of despair and resentment, before tumbling off the side of the tank.
Ronin didn't watch him hit the ground. His focus shifted to the hatch beneath his feet.
He had ignored the surrender entirely. If you wanted to live, you should have shouted faster.
Ronin gripped the steel hatch. Below, the crew finally realized their commander was dead and aimed their rifles upward.
They were too slow.
With a roar of raw physical power, Ronin tore the reinforced hatch from its hinges as if it were a sheet of tin. He hurled the metal plate into the street and dropped into the tank's interior.
Rat-a-tat-tat!
The crew opened fire at point-blank range. The bullets hammered into the tank's interior walls, ricocheting harmlessly off the thick armor plating.
Ronin didn't even use a jutsu. He simply swept his hand in a wide arc, catching the incoming rounds in a blur of motion and redirecting them back at the shooters.
The two Cleaning Squad members inside the tank dropped dead instantly, their own lead punching through their skulls.
Ronin looked at the controls. He didn't know how to drive a tank. It was a pity; he would have enjoyed flattening the rest of the squad with this steel beast.
As for the main cannon? He had already bent the barrel into a U-shape.
Ronin climbed back out of the tank.
The remaining Cleaning Squad members were not fanatics. Seeing their Nen-user leader slaughtered and the tank neutralized, they took a collective step back.
They stopped firing. Some even dropped their weapons. They realized that their bullets were as effective as spit against this boy.
He was a monster.
In Meteor City, the only other person known for treating bullets like annoying flies was Uvogin.
To the locals, Uvogin was a Tier-1 threat—a walking natural disaster. Now, a second one had appeared.
When Ronin took a single step forward, the Cleaning Squad broke. They scattered in every direction like startled birds.
A rabble, Ronin thought dismissively.
Shizuku, still holding the nozzle of Blinky, watched Ronin stand atop the tank like a conquering hero.
In that moment, a strange thought crossed her mind. He looks like he's glowing.
"Ronin, right? That's your name?" she asked, reminding herself.
Blinky vanished into a puff of smoke. If anyone can find Spence for me, it's probably him.
The street was silent, save for the idling engines of abandoned cars. The Cleaning Squad was gone, and even the usual onlookers had retreated into the shadows.
"The Council won't let this go," Shizuku warned, walking closer.
"Where is Spence?" Ronin asked, ignoring the political fallout.
If Shizuku had his location, things would be easy. If not... he glanced at the car in the alley. Damian was slowly sitting up, his eyes wide with shock behind the windshield.
"He's likely at his private estate," Shizuku provided the coordinate. "But I can't take him alone. His security is tight."
The girl looked detached, but she was calculating.
Ronin nodded. "With my team, it's doable. Let's leave."
Shizuku turned to look at the small clinic—the house she had lived in for years. "This place won't survive if we leave. As soon as we're gone, they'll burn it down to lure me back out, just like you did."
"What do you want to do?" Ronin asked.
"Can you... move the whole house?" Shizuku looked up at him, her eyes behind her glasses remarkably bright, like a puppy asking for a treat. "With your strength, is it possible?"
It was a request so absurd it was hard to refuse.
"I'll try," Ronin said, not promising anything.
Lifting a building wasn't just a matter of strength. If he just grabbed a corner and pulled, he'd rip the house apart. He needed to wrap his aura—using Shu—around the entire foundation to create a structural shell.
Or... he could use Amenotokotachi.
If he froze the space containing the clinic, he could technically pick up that "block" of space and move it as a single unit.
But the drain on his Mangekyō for a volume that large would be catastrophic.
Until he obtained the Eternal Mangekyō, he had to be conservative with his ocular powers. Blindness was a very real threat, and he only had two pairs of "spare" Scarlet Eyes left in his inventory to perform "repairs" or boost his capacity.
He chose to rely on his Nen.
If I'm going to be an Enhancer, I might as well act like one.
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