Chapter 102: The Scorching Release User of the Land of Rain
Yahiko suddenly leaned down, his fingers sinking into the mud mixed with rotting grass and rainwater, and grabbed a handful.
"Look at it!"
Ignoring Pakura's struggle, he forced her fingers open and slapped the freezing, bone-chilling mud into her palm, forcing her to grip it tight.
"This is your value in Rasa's eyes."
Yahiko's voice had no warmth, dissecting the truth with the precision of a scalpel: "When you're useful, you're the high-and-mighty 'Scorching Release Hero'; when you threaten his position, you're just 'political fodder' to be discarded at will. Used and then thrown away—this is the blessing Sunagakure has given you."
"Stop it! Stop it!!"
Pakura gripped the mud tightly, her knuckles turning pale from the excessive force.
She let out a hoarse scream; there were no tears in that sound, only the pathetic state of a shattered faith.
Like a clown.
At this moment, she felt that the loyalty of the first half of her life was nothing more than a farce.
She had bled for the Village, yet all she got in return was Ebizo's casual remark of her being 'killed in action' and Rasa's pre-calculated 'cost-effectiveness.'
The agonizing pain of being backstabbed by those closest to her instantly incinerated her remaining sanity.
Just as she was about to fall into the abyss of nothingness, a hand firmly caught her wrist.
Dry, powerful, and carrying an unquestionable sense of control.
"Stand up."
Yahiko exerted force with one hand, pulling her up from the mud and forcing her to look into his hollow eyes.
He raised his hand and pointed into the depths of the rain, where the Hidden Rain Village was being rebuilt. There was none of Sunagakure's suffocating political maneuvering, only streets that, though dilapidated, were orderly, and civilians eating hot meals under the eaves.
"The Village that treats you like a disposable pawn isn't worth a single tear. But things are different here with me."
Yahiko's tone softened: "With me, you don't need to be some damn political symbol, and you don't need to die for me."
Pakura's eyes were vacant, like a puppet with its strings cut: "Then what are you after?"
Yahiko pointed to a group of children taking shelter from the rain in the distance: "Amegakure is undergoing construction and lacks instructors. Those children need someone to teach them how to survive, and the civilians here need someone to protect them."
"With me, you don't have to live for some hypocritical 'Kage.' You live only for yourself, for the people you trust, and you draw your blade for the justice in your own eyes."
Pakura was stunned.
She turned her head to look at that unfamiliar land. An Amegakure Ninja was draping his only raincoat over an old man, and the two were sharing a piece of dry food. That scene formed an absurd contrast with the cold calculations of the Sunagakure high-ranking officials.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Something called a'sense of belonging' actually began to sprout within these ruins.
Pakura took a deep breath. The cold rain flooded her lungs, but it instantly cleared her rusted mind. She opened her hand, letting the mud that symbolized Sunagakure slide away.
*Clang!*
A cold light flashed as a Kunai was unsheathed.
Under the gaze of Yahiko and Orochimaru, Pakura grabbed her signature dark-green hair and brought the blade down.
*Shing.*
The severed hair scattered in the mud, as if cutting through the shackles of the first half of her life.
Next, she tore off the forehead protector engraved with the hourglass symbol, an honor she had once valued as much as her life. Now, she threw it on the ground like trash and stepped on it, grinding it deep into the mud.
Pakura looked up, her neat short hair messy in the rain, but her eyes were frighteningly bright.
"That foolish Scorching Release User died in this pit just now."
She turned to face Yahiko and lowered her head slightly, her voice hoarse but resolute:
"Boss, from now on, my life belongs to Amegakure."
"A wise choice."
Yahiko smiled, a calm and composed smile.
This wasn't just gaining an elite combatant for free; it was also delivering a harsh slap to the faces of the Five Great Nations in front of the entire Ninja World.
Beside him, Orochimaru watched this 'workplace drama,' his golden vertical pupils narrowing slightly.
He had to admit that this man named Yahiko had some skill. This method of manipulating hearts and reshaping faith was far more Advanced than mere slaughter.
"What a wonderful speech..."
Orochimaru sheathed his kusanagi sword, his tone tinged with a sour regret and a hint of dissatisfaction: "A pity my experimental subject is gone. Yahiko-kun, how shall we settle this debt? You owe me one."
Yahiko turned around and looked at this mad scientist whose face was practically screaming, 'You need to pay more.'
If you want the horse to run, you have to hang the best grass in front of it.
For someone like Orochimaru, who had transcended low-level interests, money and power were just waste paper; he had to be presented with a vision grand enough to overturn his worldview.
"Broaden your perspective, Orochimaru."
Yahiko walked to his side and whispered in a tone like a mystic: "Pakura is just a product of the old era. Things like Kekkei Genkais are too low-level. I have prepared something for you that is much closer to the essence of life."
Orochimaru raised an eyebrow, his tongue flicking over his lips: "Oh? Such as?"
Yahiko raised his hand and pointed toward the towering Rain Shadow Tower in the distance, where Nagato was located.
"Chakra is just a carrier; the spirit is the foundation."
Yahiko's voice carried a lethal allure: "Don't you want to know what happens when spiritual energy is compressed to the extreme, even manifested as a physical entity that can interfere with the laws of reality?"
"That isn't a simple Ninjutsu, that is—"
Yahiko leaned close to Orochimaru's ear and whispered the phrase that would drive any scientist mad:
"Glorious Evolution."
Evolution.
These words were like a precision strike on a sweet spot, instantly causing Orochimaru's pupils to quiver. His previous greed for Pakura vanished in an instant, replaced by an extreme fanaticism for unknown truths.
"Materialized spirit that transcends Kekkei Genkais?"
Orochimaru excitedly licked his cheek, his eyes erupting with a terrifying glint: "That certainly sounds a hundred times more interesting than a woman who plays with fireballs."
This vision was truly enticing.
"Let's go."
Yahiko flicked his robe and turned toward the Village. "Soon, you will see what you want to see."
The heavy rain continued to fall, but the direction of the wind had changed.
Yahiko walked at the front, followed by Orochimaru, who looked fanatical as if he had already seen the gates of truth, and Pakura, whose expression was resolute as she straightened her back like a person reborn.
The Amegakure patrols along the way stopped to salute their leader, their eyes filled with near-blind adoration.
Walking in this group, Pakura felt for the first time gazes that accepted her not as a 'killing machine,' but as 'one of their own.'
The rain washed away the blood on her body, and also the last traces left by Sunagakure.
She looked at the back of the man walking at the very front, a faint curve appearing at the corner of her mouth.
Perhaps this country, where it rained year-round, really could accommodate a wandering soul like her.
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