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Chapter 201 - The Mizukage’s Head

Tree's tone suddenly shifted, turning cold.

"But the Devil Fruit is different."

"The power system contained within a Devil Fruit may also originate from… some ancient blessing or rule. However, its level cannot even begin to compare with the inheritance of Lord Demon God."

"One could even say it is nothing more than insignificant scraps scattered within the domain of Lord Demon God's power."

The metaphor sent another shockwave through the crowd.

A Devil Fruit—an object capable of stirring bloodshed across the shinobi world and coveted by countless powerful figures—was dismissed as mere "scraps"?

"This level of power possesses an inherent exclusivity and corrosive nature."

"Unless aided by certain existences, a consumer cannot possibly control it safely—much less convert it flexibly into other forms of energy the way Lady Karin simulates chakra."

Tree delivered his conclusion in a firm, decisive tone:

"For the vast majority of living beings, the power of a Devil Fruit and chakra are mutually exclusive. Only one may remain. Attempting to reconcile them leads only to… self-destruction, or becoming a puppet."

Silence fell over the cavern once more.

Orochimaru had obtained the "knowledge" he sought. Though it made him more aware of the possibly insurmountable gap between himself, Karin, and that so-called Demon God—

It also offered him a new, thrilling direction for future research.

Karin, however, had little interest in the lengthy explanation.

Because she hadn't understood it at all.

Bored, she tugged at Orochimaru's sleeve. "Let's go, let's go. This is boring. Tree, I'll leave this place to you!"

"Yes, Lady Karin." Tree bowed.

Karin skipped away, dragging along a reluctant yet compliant Orochimaru, with Kabuto Yakushi following behind. Soon, their figures disappeared into the dim tunnel.

Left behind were the shinobi of Konoha—and the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, standing solemnly with Danzo Shimura's severed head in hand. He, too, had no desire to remain.

However, when Hiruzen led the surviving Konoha elites out of the cave, heavy-hearted and full of doubts, the sight before him caused even the battle-hardened Hokage's expression to change drastically.

He drew in a sharp breath.

The clearing of the so-called "Forest of Delusion" outside had become a slaughterhouse.

Corpses lay strewn everywhere—far more than when they had entered the cave.

Blood soaked into the dark forest floor, and the metallic scent in the air was almost suffocating.

The culprit was obvious.

At the center of the clearing stood Karin's small figure, painfully conspicuous.

In one hand, she casually held a freshly severed head, still dripping blood, its expression frozen in absolute terror.

With her other hand, she gripped someone by the throat, lifting him into the air like a chicken.

The man was short, wearing the Mizukage's hat and robes. His face was turning a deep purple, eyes bulging in suffocating despair and confusion.

The Fourth Mizukage—Yagura Karatachi.

"Hey, shorty," Karin tilted her head. There was no killing intent in her eyes—only childish curiosity and faint impatience, like a child fiddling with an insect. "You're the Mizukage, right? Why'd you have to provoke me?"

Yagura's throat was crushed in her grip. His chakra seemed completely suppressed by some unknown force; he couldn't even speak, only producing strained, wheezing sounds.

His gaze was filled with terror as he stared at the little girl before him.

What had he done?

He had merely arrived based on intelligence reports. Seeing Karin emerge from the cave, he had said, "The Land of Water and the Land of Whirlpools are separated only by the sea… we could be considered neighbors…"

He had intended to build rapport.

Before he could even finish his sentence—how had it become "provocation"?

How had it led to his death?!

"Stop!!"

A furious roar thundered through the forest, shattering the silence.

Karin smiled faintly when she heard it.

Crack.

Yagura's small body convulsed violently before going limp.

Karin casually "plucked" his head from his neck and held it up, blood dripping steadily to the ground.

In the next instant, several figures arrived from different directions, powerful waves of chakra accompanying their swift approach.

The remaining Kage had come.

The Fourth Raikage, A—his muscular body wrapped in crackling Lightning Release chakra, veins bulging with fury.

The Third Tsuchikage, Ōnoki—his diminutive form floating midair, eyes sharp with shock and gravity.

The Fourth Kazekage, Rasa—gold dust swirling around him, his gaze as sharp as a blade fixed upon the Mizukage's severed head in Karin's hand, face grim.

And…

The Fifth Hokage, Tsunade.

She had just arrived with Jiraiya and a contingent of Konoha elites, witnessing the horrifying scene firsthand.

Rage flickered in her eyes at the carnage—but deeper still was caution toward Karin's lawless brutality.

Jiraiya's expression was equally grave.

Four Kage gathered together—normally a lineup capable of suppressing nearly any upheaval in the shinobi world.

Yet now, they stared at the little girl standing at the center of the clearing, smiling as she held the Mizukage's head.

The Mizukage—leader of one of the Five Great Nations—

Beheaded like livestock.

"Too brutal…" Orochimaru murmured softly, his golden pupils narrowing.

Kabuto adjusted his glasses, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.

Dealing with this capricious, mood-driven little tyrant truly required walking on thin ice.

The Mizukage was proof enough.

Why would Lord Orochimaru choose to involve himself with someone like this?

Karin's face still bore that innocent, radiant smile—as though she had just completed some trivial task.

Her gaze swept over the four Kage who had just arrived, their faces dark, and the elite guards standing tensely behind them.

"Just now…" Karin blinked her wide eyes, her voice crisp with a perfectly timed hint of curiosity. "Who was it that told me to 'stop'?"

A light sentence.

Yet it felt like an icy blade pressed against every throat present.

The air froze.

No one dared to admit it.

At that moment, Orochimaru's slightly hoarse—familiar yet distant—voice broke the suffocating silence.

He looked toward Tsunade and Jiraiya, who had just arrived, a strange glint flashing through his golden eyes.

"Tsunade. Jiraiya. Long time no see."

Tsunade's tense expression softened—only slightly.

"Orochimaru."

She inclined her head faintly, her heart unbearably heavy.

She said nothing more.

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