Not long after, the two of them passed through the dense forest, and a secluded mountain villa came into view.
This was Satomi Hill.
"We've arrived."
Kurenai slowed down and landed on a tree trunk, preparing to move forward and make contact.
However, Kakashi suddenly reached out and stopped her.
"Wait."
Kakashi scanned their surroundings, his brows knitting slightly.
It was too quiet.
Shizune had clearly stated that ANBU guarded this place around the clock, yet now…
The forest was deathly silent—no birds, no insects. A heavy, oppressive atmosphere hung in the air.
"Something's wrong!"
Kurenai's expression changed as she reached for a kunai.
At that moment, the scenery around them suddenly twisted.
The lush forest withered in an instant, turning to ash. The ground beneath their feet morphed into a churning, dark-purple swamp. Countless pale skeletal hands burst forth, grabbing Kakashi's and Kurenai's ankles, dragging them desperately toward the abyss below.
"This is… a Genjutsu?!"
As Konoha's foremost Genjutsu specialist, Kurenai reacted immediately.
She rapidly formed hand seals, trying to disrupt her chakra flow to break free.
But the mental binding force was terrifyingly strong—and disturbingly familiar.
"This chakra… is it someone from the Kurama Clan?!"
Kurenai was shocked.
Faced with the horrifying illusion, Kakashi didn't even bother to struggle.
He let the skeletal hands clutch his legs, then calmly raised his right hand and lifted the forehead protector covering his left eye.
The scarlet Sharingan with three tomoe flared to life in the darkness, emitting a cold, ominous glow.
"There's a limit to showing off in front of the original."
Kakashi's left eye snapped open.
"Genjutsu: Mirror Heaven and Earth Change!"
Crack—! Crack—!
The dark-purple swamp and the withered forest shattered like a mirror struck by a hammer, splitting into countless fractures before collapsing completely.
The Genjutsu was broken, and the real forest instantly reappeared.
At the same time—
"AAAAAH—!!"
Three shrill screams rang out from nearby bushes.
Three Kurama Clan shinobi fell from the trees, writhing on the ground and clutching their heads in agony.
The Genjutsu meant for a surprise attack had been reflected straight back into their own minds by the Sharingan.
The leader struggled to lift his head, staring in terror at the silver-haired man walking toward him with his hands in his pockets.
When he saw the crimson eye gleaming in the sunlight, his pupils shrank violently.
"The… Sharingan?!"
"You're… Kakashi Hatake!!"
He never imagined he would encounter him here.
"Correct," Kakashi replied flatly. "No prize, though."
He appeared in front of the man in an instant and struck the back of his neck with a clean, precise chop.
Bang.
The shinobi's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed unconscious.
The other two had already lost all combat capability from the Genjutsu backlash.
Why would the Kurama Clan attack this place…?
Kurenai stared at the fallen figures, her face draining of color as a terrifying thought crossed her mind.
"Oh no—Yakumo is in danger!"
Overwhelmed with panic, she didn't even check for additional ambushes and immediately rushed toward the villa.
"Yakumo!!"
"Hey, Kurenai—wait!"
Kakashi sighed helplessly as he watched her disappear.
"Seriously… worry really does make people reckless. Charging straight into an unknown building at a time like this."
Despite the complaint, his movements were swift.
He followed immediately, dashing through the open gates of the mountain villa.
The moment Kakashi crossed the threshold—
The sunlight behind him vanished.
The walls, floors, and ceiling began to melt and twist like oil paintings eaten away by acid.
What should have been a normal corridor transformed into a chaotic, grotesque space filled with warped blocks of color.
Gravity seemed meaningless. Direction itself ceased to exist.
Kurenai, who had rushed in just moments earlier, was nowhere to be seen.
Kakashi stopped, stepping onto the floating swathes of distorted color.
The Sharingan spun rapidly—yet, unlike before, it couldn't immediately see through the illusion.
"I see…"
He surveyed the warped world, his expression finally turning serious.
So even the Sharingan couldn't instantly pierce it.
"This isn't a simple Genjutsu trap anymore."
The entire manor had become the illusion itself.
Kakashi exhaled softly, but a trace of excitement curled at the corner of his mouth.
"Now this is getting interesting, you little genius."
He strolled forward through the corridor, which looked like a palette flipped upside down, where common sense and gravity no longer applied.
He casually pushed open doors distorted by swirling paint.
Behind each door lay a different hellscape born of illusion.
In some rooms, Konoha's bustling streets crumbled amid raging flames and violent earthquakes, like the end of the world.
In others, the Kurama Clan compound burned, filled with agonized screams.
Yet Kakashi noticed something consistent across every twisted scene—
One figure appeared again and again.
Kurenai Yuhi.
Sometimes she was a merciless figure who shattered Yakumo's dreams.
Other times, she was a victim consumed by fire and monsters, endlessly tormented within Yakumo's subconscious.
Kakashi stroked his chin, understanding dawning in his eyes.
"So… she still cares about Kurenai that much."
The deeper the hatred, the harder it was to let go.
That bond between teacher and student must have been far deeper than it appeared.
"But there's a limit to rummaging around inside a young girl's heart."
He came to a halt.
The lazy look vanished instantly, replaced by suffocating sharpness and gravity.
Kakashi slowly closed his left eye.
When he opened it again—
The three tomoe had fused together, forming the Mangekyō Sharingan.
Boom—!!
An overwhelming, cold, and domineering ocular power erupted from his eye like a flood bursting its banks.
The space capable of warping reality let out a silent wail, unable to withstand the crushing pressure of that gaze.
"Open…"
"…now."
Kakashi focused all his ocular power on a single point.
Screeeech—!
The void itself was torn apart, as if sliced by an invisible blade.
With the sound of fabric ripping, a pitch-black rift was forcibly carved open—leading straight to the core of the illusion.
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