A dimly lit, luxurious room.
Still the six heads of the consortiums.
The man in the middle picked up the remote, clicked it, and turned off the TV, not wanting to watch anymore.
He tossed the remote onto the coffee table, lit a cigar, took a deep drag, and as the smoke billowed out, he said:
"Surrender."
Yes, surrender.
The Sky Legion plan, a failure.
The Akatsuki organization's assassination, a failure.
The rebellion in Warsaw City, a failure.
Having failed three times in a row, they were truly out of options.
From initially wanting to kill Linto, to later just wanting to take the money and run, they had already lowered their expectations considerably. But even that simple request was no longer possible.
Tokugawa Nobuyasu was not like Oda Nobunaga, who had just risen to power.
Perhaps in terms of governing the country, Oda Nobunaga was far superior to Tokugawa Nobuyasu, but when it came to balancing and controlling the nation and the consortiums, that fat old Tokugawa Nobuyasu did a much better job.
Tokugawa Nobuyasu held a tight grip on the lifelines of many industries of the major consortiums. As long as he was alive and the Land of Wind was not in chaos, the consortiums could not safely withdraw their assets.
Or, put another way, the people from the consortiums could leave, go wherever they pleased, Tokugawa Nobuyasu couldn't and wouldn't stop them.
But their money and resources would have to be left behind.
The consortiums' decision to rebel in Warsaw City was not because they wanted to be like pigs being slaughtered by Tokugawa Nobuyasu, piece by piece, to buy Linto time.
But if it meant "leaving empty-handed"...
They'd rather be pigs being slaughtered.
At least before their flesh was all gone, they would still be the powerful conglomerates at the top of the food chain.
So... they could only surrender.
The six men stood up one by one: "This era is probably over for us. We hope that in a hundred years, after Linto dies, our families will still exist."
"All the best."
"All the best."
The six men shook hands and walked out of the dark room, where their subordinates were waiting outside.
Almost simultaneously, the six men, with cold faces, issued orders to their subordinates:
"Negotiate with Tokugawa Nobuyasu and make him go after someone else's flesh first. We have to crawl on the ground and live like dogs until..."
"Linto dies."
"Yes."
The subordinates each received their orders and then asked, "What about the Kurosaki three?"
The six consortium leaders paused for a moment:
"Who are they?"
...
The consortiums decided to surrender.
The Holy Monk Hoichi was still fighting desperately.
He was bare-chested, with a barrier that was almost shattered around him.
Hoichi's original plan was to use the barrier for protection, resist Rasa's attacks, and then release his chains to bind Gaara.
As long as the One-Tail Shukaku was released, no one in the city could stop him.
Not even Linto.
Hoichi had conceived this plan countless times while chanting and meditating, ensuring it was flawless.
But as the two men fought in earnest, Monk Hoichi realized that things were...
A little off.
How was Rasa's speed faster than his chains?
How could the flying golden sand shatter his defensive barrier?
"This is unreasonable."
Monk Hoichi gritted his teeth and said.
But he didn't consider.
If Monk Hoichi could truly defeat Rasa in a one-on-one, head-on battle, how could he have remained unknown for so many years, and how could he have been considered a marginal figure by the Sunagakure Village, which was developing an elite ninja strategy?
In this terrible ninja world, other geniuses might be overlooked.
But those who could fight and kill would never be ignored by the people in the village.
Rasa said, "You wanted to kill my son. I'm killing you now. Does this count as karmic retribution, according to Buddhism?"
Monk Hoichi's forehead veins bulged, his jaw clenched with a grinding sound, his eyes filled with unwillingness:
"My life's work is the art of controlling Tailed Beasts, Rasa. I'm not convinced!
If you still have the dignity of a strong warrior, the pride of a Kazekage, then give Gaara to me.
I'll control the One-Tail, and we'll have a fair and just fight, hand-to-hand!"
Hearing this, not only was Rasa stunned, but even Granny Chiyo, who had just returned, was frozen on the spot.
Rasa pointed at Hoichi, then turned to Granny Chiyo and asked:
"What kind of idiot is this?"
"Did chanting make him stupid?"
Granny Chiyo rolled her Byakugan.
Rasa shook his head, no longer wanting to waste time with Monk Hoichi. He raised his hand, and golden sand condensed in the air into a giant golden palm, which slammed down towards Monk Hoichi.
"I'm not convinced! I'm not convinced—!"
Monk Hoichi was smashed into the ground by the golden palm descending from the sky. When the golden sand dispersed, only a splash of blood remained on the ground, like...
A bluebottle fly that had been swatted dead.
With the death of Monk Hoichi, the annoying pipa music finally stopped. Gaara's abnormal chakra fluctuations gradually returned to normal, and he woke up from his coma.
Gaara couldn't remember the terrifying images from his dream. He only remembered that in his sleep, he was leaning on his father's back, and his usually stern father had been protecting him.
Gaara woke up and saw Rasa. Tears streamed from his eyes, and he opened his arms:
"Dad..."
However, what awaited him was not Rasa's embrace, but a slap to the head.
Rasa said coldly, "What kind of man cries like that!"
The newfound emotion in Gaara's heart was dispelled by the slap.
"So... it was just a dream, right?"
Gaara stood up timidly and stood to the side.
Seeing Gaara's fearful look, Rasa opened his mouth, not knowing what to say. He did what he had done countless times before, ignoring his son's emotional needs.
He turned to Granny Chiyo, seeing that she was holding a puppet with Mukade's face.
"Was the one you fought earlier Mukade's puppet?"
Granny Chiyo threw the puppet in her hand to the ground. "A small trick."
"Did Mukade's main body escape?"
"Escape?"
Granny Chiyo extended her hand, made a "gun" gesture, pointed in a direction, and a wicked smile appeared on her lips.
"He won't escape."
A thousand meters away, in a civilian house.
Mukade opened his eyes, his eyelids twitching slightly, feeling a lingering fear: "That damned old woman, she really has some skills."
They had only exchanged a few blows, but Granny Chiyo had found a flaw in the puppet and calmly defeated Mukade's remote control.
"I've had my fun, it's time to go."
Mukade stood up, packed his belongings, and was about to push the door open to leave when suddenly there were four "dong dong dong—dong!" knocks on the door.
"Who!"
Mukade growled.
A childish, clear voice came from outside the door: "Do you want to build a snowman with me?"
Mukade cautiously walked to the door and peeked through the keyhole.
He saw a puppet spider crawling in front of the door, with a timer bomb on its abdomen.
"Damn it."
Mukade cursed.
The next second, with a thunderous roar.
Mukade was blown to pieces.
Granny Chiyo retracted her hand, tilting her chin slightly.
"I told you, he wouldn't escape."
...
Kurosaki, galloping on his horse, didn't know that Linto had stopped the killing in Warsaw City, nor that his two companions... or rather, accomplices, were dead.
He also didn't know that the Land of Wind consortium had decided to surrender several minutes ago.
Kurosaki's entire focus was on escaping.
Under the bright moonlight, the galloping horse, the dark gray robe fluttering in the wind, and the laughter echoing in the air, he had a somewhat wild and unrestrained air.
How could he not laugh?
Decades of forbearance, repeated struggles, countless setbacks, suppression, and failures...
Kurosaki had encountered a turning point in his life.
Thinking of the life of superiority that awaited him, Kurosaki couldn't help but burst into laughter:
"Hahahaha—BUGAA!"
As if a meteorite had landed beside him, Kurosaki was thrown from his horse and tumbled heavily in the desert before stopping.
He knelt on the ground, looking up, his pupils reflecting a figure slowly descending from the sky.
Linto didn't look at Kurosaki. He reached out and gently placed his hand on the injured horse. The startled horse trembled, then gradually calmed down under Linto's comfort.
"Lin, Lin... Qing!"
Kurosaki wanted to escape.
But his legs simply wouldn't obey. He knelt on the ground, not daring to move, like a lamb being led to the slaughter.
"No, I don't want to be a lamb! I want to be a dragon, I want to be superior!"
His almost pathological obsession had led Kurosaki to commit countless inhuman deeds. Driven by this obsession, he shakily stood up from the ground.
From the previous impact, his internal organs felt like they had shifted. Kurosaki glanced at Linto, who was still tending to the horse at the top of the sand dune, then turned and stumbled a step down.
Whoosh—
Large patches of dark green mold appeared on Kurosaki's skin. His skin and muscles, like crushed wafer biscuits, rustled and shed fragments.
He turned to look at Linto, and a dark green evil spirit stood quietly beside Linto.
Kurosaki took another step, and more fragments fell off. In delicate areas like his fingers, bare bones were visible.
"What kind of ability is this?!"
Kurosaki dared not move.
As he stopped trying to escape, the erosion of the youthful mold stopped.
But Kurosaki was standing on the incline of the sand dune. Even if he did nothing, gravity would cause the sand to slowly carry him downwards.
Skin, flesh, bone, gradually rotting and cracking. Kurosaki let out a pained scream. He reached out to Linto, only to find that his raised arm was not being corroded.
"So... if I climb up, I can avoid rotting?"
Kurosaki was completely desperate.
Downwards was a hell of bodily decay.
Upwards was a devil who killed without blinking.
His life would welcome a new dawn tomorrow, but why... was this night so difficult to endure?
"Now it's your turn, Kurosaki. What will you choose?"
Linto still didn't look at him, gently calming the horse. "I'll give you a chance. As long as you can stand in front of me, I'll let you go."
Kurosaki, on the verge of falling into despair, saw a sliver of hope in his predicament.
"Really?"
Linto didn't answer.
But Kurosaki had no choice. This was the only path left for him.
He crawled upwards with his already decaying and cracked hands, just as he had done for decades.
But the sand beneath him kept shifting. His body, dulled by the previous impact and moldy decay, was incredibly slow. He crawled several meters up, only to slide back a short distance as the yellow sand churned.
Each slip downwards deepened the mold's decay.
In the end, Kurosaki had not a single intact piece of skin. His legs had rotted away in the repeated cycles of lifting and falling corrosion.
His flesh looked like it had been chewed by dogs, covered in foul, rotten meat.
His face was more terrifying than a demon's, with teeth missing in clusters, his facial skin gone. Any other person would have been writhing in pain, driven to madness and suicide.
But Kurosaki did not want to die.
He wanted to live and enjoy wealth and prosperity.
Finally, Kurosaki, who had lost his legs, managed to crawl to Linto's feet through sheer, pathological stubbornness. His vocal cords were torn, and he could only let out unintelligible sounds:
"Let me... go..."
Linto turned his gaze towards Warsaw City. "Thinking of those poor people you deceived, who burned their lives to fight.
I had originally planned to kick you down again after you climbed up, to let you feel the pain of dying while being deceived."
"But I've changed my mind now."
Linto squatted down, injected a bit of Ripple into Kurosaki, stimulating his last bit of vitality. Then Linto deactivated Youthful Years, mounted his horse, and glanced at Kurosaki.
"Enjoy life at the 'summit' well."
Linto reined in his horse, and its hooves trod on the sand, walking towards Warsaw City.
Kurosaki lay on the ground.
He had lost his legs, his entire body's skin was rotten. The pain he had ignored earlier due to his obsession now surged forth, making him writhe on the ground.
"But... I survived! I'm going to become a dragon!"
Suddenly, Kurosaki heard birds chirping.
Vultures appeared in the sky, circling like white birds of death in the silvery moonlight.
Similar rustling sounds came from the ground. Kurosaki turned to see lizards, ants, centipedes, and scorpions that had been hiding in the desert crawling out, attracted by the flesh.
"No... don't come near me... get away..."
His hoarse, guttural screams echoed in the desert.
But no one cared.