The lingering white mist that had enveloped the clearing in the forest for so long finally began to dissipate.
Civilians who had been watching from the beginning, along with a few scattered shinobi attracted by the sounds of battle, cautiously approached to investigate the aftermath.
Compared to how it looked before the mist appeared, the clearing had undergone a complete transformation.
The wet ground was littered with broken branches and clumps of earth, leaving the area in disarray. Many surrounding trees were toppled or snapped, making it seem as though the site had been ravaged by a fierce storm.
In addition, there were several deep craters scattered across the clearing, their depth so astonishing that ordinary people found it impossible to believe they were man-made.
In one corner of the clearing lay a large, charred patch of earth, its stark contrast to the nearby wet ground creating a surreal boundary, as if they belonged to different worlds.
This bizarre scene, rare in nature, left many civilians in awe, deepening their understanding of the immense power wielded by shinobi.
Even the shinobi who had arrived later found themselves under the awe-filled gazes of the crowd.
Though most maintained their stoic expressions, inwardly, they were just as shocked.
The scale of destruction before them was far beyond what ordinary shinobi could achieve.
The mystery of why such powerful individuals would engage in a battle of this magnitude in such an unremarkable location left them baffled.
"—Hey, look over there!"
Someone suddenly shouted, pointing to a strangely pristine section of the clearing.
Following the voice, everyone turned their gaze. After a moment of stunned silence, they realized what had happened—where the game hall had once stood, there was now nothing but emptiness.
Soon, anguished cries erupted across the clearing, confusing those who had just arrived.
It became clear that the wailing individuals were the loyal patrons of the game hall.
Having discovered its disappearance and noticing the absence of a sign indicating its new location, they quickly understood that it would likely be a long time before they could once again enjoy the hall's magical machines.
Unexpectedly, after a brief outburst of lament, they quickly accepted the reality.
Perhaps it was because the game hall's enigmatic nature and the fascinating games within always felt dreamlike and ephemeral.
Like Urashima Tarō eventually leaving Ryūgū-jō, they knew that such an extraordinarily beautiful dream was bound to end one day and had mentally prepared themselves for it.
—Of course, there was another reason as well...
The game hall was simply too expensive. Even if it hadn't disappeared, they wouldn't have been able to afford visiting it for much longer.
Meanwhile, among the civilians, there was another group—enforcers left behind by debt collectors.
They stared blankly at the empty clearing where the game hall had been, equally puzzled.
So... had their bosses succeeded or failed?
More importantly, where were they now?
Fortunately, their questions were soon answered...
Someone inadvertently wandered into the nearby woods where the game hall had once stood. Moments later, a blood-curdling scream echoed across the forest.
Curiosity drew the crowd closer, but the sight they encountered left many paralyzed with fear, some collapsing to the ground. Even the shinobi couldn't help but suck in a breath of cold air.
On the forest floor, human heads were neatly arranged in rows.
—This horrifyingly macabre scene would leave those who witnessed it unable to forget, and it would later become a central element in local legends about the "Vanishing Game Hall."
According to these tales, greedy villains who coveted the mysterious game hall were met with divine retribution. Their heads were severed and meticulously arranged on the ground, and the game hall vanished, never to be seen again...
However, as it turned out, the men weren't actually dead. Their bodies had been buried in the ground—a fact that few outside of this event would ever learn.
That night, beneath a bright moon, a secluded cliffside housed a gleaming, white dome-shaped structure.
This was, of course, Natsuhiko's capsule home.
After a long day, Natsuhiko had just finished showering. Stepping out of the bathroom, his body still felt slightly sore and weak.
Even minor chakra overuse left lingering discomfort, he noted.
Still, considering the price he paid to survive an encounter with a powerhouse like Kakuzu, it was a worthwhile trade-off.
Reassuring himself, Natsuhiko took a stroll around the house and found only Shizune inside.
She was seated at the dining table, writing furiously, her focus unshakable.
After all, the holidays had been consumed by Tsunade's constant summons, leaving her little time for homework.
Now, with school approaching, she had no choice but to race against time to finish it.
Poor Shizune, stuck with a master like Tsunade.
Shaking his head sympathetically, Natsuhiko decided not to disturb her. Quietly, he opened the door and stepped outside.
There, not far away, he spotted Tsunade, waving her fists and shouting, "Pikachu, I choose you! Use Thunderbolt!"
To any observer, it would seem like the ravings of a lunatic.
Such a shame, they might think—a beautiful woman with a screw loose.
But Natsuhiko knew better.
Tsunade was simply using his AR glasses to play the game Onmyoji GO.
What appeared to be an empty space in reality was, in her view, a battlefield teeming with yokai.
Interestingly, her starter shikigami wasn't one of the original trio provided by Professor Ōki, but a certain yellow, electrifying mouse.
When Natsuhiko had discovered this, he was speechless.
This starter was a hidden Easter egg, designed to appear only if a player hesitated for more than five minutes when choosing their shikigami.
He hadn't expected Tsunade to trigger it during the first playthrough.
"Five minutes was too short. I should change it to an hour next time..."
Muttering to himself, Natsuhiko turned his attention back to Tsunade, who was now pretending to throw and capture imaginary creatures.
"Yes! Another Caterpie caught!"
She grinned in triumph. "The Pokédex says Caterpie is descended from the legendary Rayquaza. Its potential must be immense."
"Maybe it's the bug Natsuhiko mentioned," she mused, "but they're everywhere. I need to catch as many as I can before he fixes this!"
"Well… technically, chickens are descendants of dinosaurs, but that doesn't stop them from ending up on the dinner table, does it…?"
Natsuhiko wanted to explain this logic to Tsunade, but seeing her beaming with joy, he decided against it.
After all, despite Tsunade's current cheerful demeanor, Natsuhiko knew she was just using the game to escape from reality.
The reason? She had just learned a shocking truth today: Kakuzu had been using her signed IOUs to demand repayment from the Senju clan!
It wasn't just the realization that she had fallen for Kakuzu's schemes that left her distressed; the fact that her debt dodging had now reached the ears of the Senju clan made her head throb even more.
The granddaughter of the God of Shinobi, the princess of the Senju clan, a delinquent debtor.
Imagining how everyone in the clan might look at her filled Tsunade with dread.
In fact, Natsuhiko telling her about this situation might have just given her another reason to avoid returning to Konoha.
But since Natsuhiko had already deployed his trump card—the AR glasses—there was no way he would let Tsunade escape his grasp.
He had already prepared several contingency plans to ensure she would obediently return to Konoha.
For now, though, he decided to let Tsunade enjoy her happiness for a little while longer.
After all, once she returned to the village, she likely wouldn't be able to smile like this anymore.
With a mischievous grin tugging at his lips, Natsuhiko refrained from disturbing Tsunade, who was immersed in her caterpillar-collecting mission. He then made his way to the edge of the cliff.
There, on a large rock, sat Kakashi, staring blankly at a broken blade in his hand.
The serene moonlight fell silently, casting a silvery glow over the fractured White Fang short sword, imbuing it with a strangely poignant beauty.
"Natsuhiko-sensei."
Kakashi quickly noticed the sound of footsteps. Upon seeing it was Natsuhiko, he greeted him.
Natsuhiko glanced at the broken blade in Kakashi's hand, feeling a twinge of emotion.
Who would've thought that, even with his presence altering events, the White Fang blade still couldn't escape its fate of being broken—and this time, years earlier.
"My apologies, Kakashi. I didn't expect that this mission would involve an opponent as formidable as Kakuzu," Natsuhiko said, his tone laced with regret. "Not only did you almost lose your life, but even your father's memento ended up like this…"
Kakashi shook his head. "No, I was the one who volunteered for this mission. It's not your fault, Sensei."
"Encountering unexpected events during a mission is unavoidable. Even if I lost my life because of it, it would only mean I wasn't skilled enough."
"And Sensei, didn't you save me back then? You even sacrificed the best opportunity to ambush Kakuzu because of it. If anything, I'm the one who should be apologizing."
Hearing such mature words from a boy barely five or six years old left Natsuhiko feeling helpless. Unable to resist, he reached out and ruffled Kakashi's hair hard.
"What nonsense are you talking about?"
"Isn't it a teacher's duty to protect their students? How could I stand idly by while Kakuzu was about to kill you?"
"If I did that, what face would I have to show Obito and the others when I returned?"
Kakashi, who initially tried to dodge his teacher's "claws," inevitably failed. Once he finally broke free, he couldn't help but ask after hearing Natsuhiko's words:
"Sensei, do you also believe that a comrade's life is more important than a mission?"
(End of chapter)