After unleashing more than a dozen massive Water Dragon Bullet Techniques, Hanzō steadied his body, which was nearly exhausted from overusing chakra. A smug smile crept onto his face.
"So what if you have the Rinnegan? With my experience, even the Sage's eyes won't be enough to take me down!"
Though he spoke with confidence, his body betrayed him. With a quick glance at the enormous, ominous sphere forming in the sky, Hanzō instinctively retreated through the water, preparing to flee.
Above him, rocks, soil, weeds, schools of fish, and even the giant salamanders lurking deep underground—intending to ambush Nagato—were all being drawn together by an overwhelming force, merging into a colossal sphere suspended in the heavens.
"The shinobi world has gotten stranger and stranger… Shinobi don't act like shinobi anymore, and there are more and more monsters. It's dangerous and exhausting."
"A turbulent era… but that's no longer my concern. My next destination? The hot springs of the Land of Hot Water. I hear they're quite nice."
Hanzō sighed. As an old-school ninja, he was fed up with these inhuman adversaries—every single one of them fought like a demon.
In his time, shinobi relied on kunai, shuriken, and katana for assassination missions. Ninjutsu was a last resort, only used once one's cover was blown. Stealth, precision, and single-strike kills were the norm.
Even in wars between hidden villages, battle units typically ranged from three to ten members.
Large-scale army clashes were rare, only occurring in decisive moments. It was in this tactical environment that Hanzō's overwhelming ability to decimate mid- to low-tier shinobi had earned him the title of Demi-God.
His unparalleled lethality against standard shinobi was once akin to cutting grass—swift and effortless.
But now, looking back at the adversaries he had encountered in the past two years, he realized he was no longer exceptional. He was merely one of many powerful individuals.
In that time, he had faced Minato Namikaze, who wielded the Flying Thunder God Technique, and Nawaki Senju, who possessed the terrifying Mutually Multiplying Explosive Tags.
He had encountered Fūma, a monstrous warrior who charged straight through his poison mist without hesitation, refused to dodge ninjutsu, and possessed a body as indestructible as iron, throwing punches capable of shattering skulls.
And now, standing before him was Nagato—who had casually unleashed a Chibaku Tensei, wiping out an entire canyon and spontaneously creating a miniature moon in the sky.
"This is getting ridiculous. My luck really is rotten, running into all these monsters."
Hanzō shook his head and prepared to escape via the underground water system.
Yet, before he could move, another, even larger black sphere was launched into the sky by Nagato. A massive gravitational pull instantly took hold of him.
"What?! This jutsu… It can be used in succession? What kind of technique is this?!"
Feeling the immense force drawing him in, Hanzō gritted his teeth and desperately gathered his chakra to resist Chibaku Tensei once again.
His body slowly liquefied, merging with the lake to form a towering, water-based giant.
He frantically manipulated the surrounding water, taking advantage of his Hōzuki Clan bloodline—his combat abilities were exponentially stronger when near a water source.
This was his trump card.
But then, he saw something that stunned him more than the Rinnegan itself.
The young kunoichi he had nearly cleaved in half moments ago, Uzumaki Kana, now stood atop a colossal wooden construct, commanding massive tree branches that surged toward him like serpents.
"Mokuton?! How is that possible?! Who are these shinobi? This is insane!"
For Hanzō, who had lived through the Warring States Period, Mokuton and a fully-realized Susanoo were deeply ingrained traumas. They were symbols of the God of Shinobi and the Ghost of the Shinobi World—nothing else even came close.
Nagato noticed the fear in Hanzō's eyes and scoffed, a strange sense of competitiveness stirring within him.
"Foolish old man… Don't you realize that my Rinnegan is far rarer and more powerful than Mokuton?"
Nagato's gaze sharpened. Chakra erupted from his body, sending shockwaves rippling across the lake as he maximized the gravitational force of Chibaku Tensei.
The ground beneath them groaned and shattered. Rocks were ripped from the earth and flung skyward. Even the vast lake was not spared—water twisted and spiraled into massive, roaring tornadoes, obediently ascending toward the black core.
Kana made her move. Thick wooden tendrils plunged into the depths of the water, lunging toward Hanzō like a swarm of serpents.
Hanzō stared blankly at the ruined valley, the monstrous wooden construct looming over him, and the two enemies closing in. Slowly, he raised his hands in surrender.
He simply could not comprehend how, despite having retired to a quiet, hidden existence in the mountains, he was now facing such an absurd fate.
With a resigned sigh, he allowed himself to be pulled into the sky, his body dragged toward the crushing force of the black core.
And then, a massive wooden hand snatched him from midair.
"That's enough, Nagato. Target secured."
Nagato let out a sharp exhale before retracting his chakra, deactivating Chibaku Tensei.
The two artificial moons plummeted from the sky, slamming into the devastated valley with thunderous force. The landscape, once lush and serene, was reduced to a barren wasteland.
Nagato looked down at the captive Hanzō, his Rinnegan gleaming as he reached out and gripped the older man's throat.
"Preta Path!"
As Hanzō's chakra was drained away, his once-formidable frame shriveled visibly, his features growing gaunt and weak.
Flexing his fingers, Nagato glanced at the now-healed wounds on his body before shifting his gaze to Uzumaki Kana.
"To be safe, bind him with Adamantine Sealing Chains."
"Of course. You've matured, Nagato."
Kana smiled as golden chains shot from her back, wrapping Hanzō in an almost comically humiliating position. She was more than satisfied with how the battle had unfolded.
Black Zetsu had once approached her in secret and warned, "Those who awaken the Rinnegan become intoxicated by its overwhelming power. They will gradually grow arrogant, a potential threat to the future peace of the shinobi world."
This ambush had forced Nagato to act with caution. Compared to the capture of Hanzō, this shift in his mindset was the most valuable outcome of all.
Hanzō remained silent as he dangled in the golden chains.
Nagato looked down at him, his expression unreadable, "Hanzō, I am the leader of the Whirlpool Organization. I invite you to join us."
For a moment, Hanzō simply studied Nagato's face before finally speaking.
"....You are Ise's son, you look just like your father."
Nagato's entire body tensed. In a flash, a black rod materialized in his hand.
He still remembered the warmth of his parents' hands as they carried groceries home.
And the next instant—the explosion.
But as he met Hanzō's calm, steady gaze, he slowly exhaled and let the anger fade.
Hanzō had played no part in that day.
As the leader of Amegakure, he had once been revered by both his shinobi and his people.
With sheer personal strength, he had defied the great nations and provided his village with a standard of living far better than most small hidden villages could ever dream of.
"You're mistaken," Nagato finally said, his voice unwavering.
"I am the leader of Whirlpool. My name is Nagato, the one who will bring true peace to this world."
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