{A/N: Heavenly demonic Fun Fact no 2: Though most may not reach the Immortal Stage in their lifetime, the Heavenly Demon was born at Immortal Stage because he started cultivating while still in his father's balls. When it was time for his birth, he delivered himself and slapped the doctor.
And btw let's try to get 50 comments on this chapter everyone.... It should be easy right? RIGHT? 🥺}
"Didn't you hear me, brat? Don't make me kill you!" the voice growled, as three bandits leaped from a tree a few meters away from Shin.
They had been hiding up there for hours, waiting for some poor travelers to cross the forest, thinking this was the perfect spot for an ambush.
Though they looked like a bunch of idiots, they were smart enough to pick the early morning when most people, trying to avoid bandits, would make their move through the woods.
Shin sighed, sounding more annoyed than threatened. "Sigh... Looks like my slave needs some discipline," he muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing at the trio.
Before any of the bandits could blink, Shin vanished from his spot and reappeared behind the one who had been mouthing off.
The bandit he targeted was a burly guy, his head half-bald and a gut hanging over his waist like he'd swallowed a whole keg of ale. The sudden disappearance of Shin had them all frozen in shock.
Horror flickered across their faces as they realized this "brat" might actually know jutsu. If that was true, they were absolutely screwed.
They had picked him out specifically because he didn't look like a shinobi—hell, they weren't shinobi either, and if they were, they wouldn't be standing around like idiots playing bandit for a living.
Common sense, right? A shinobi earned way more money than some low-life thief could ever dream of.
"Where did that brat g—" the burly guy started to say, just before hearing a voice from behind.
"Fatass," Shin sneered, right before delivering a swift kick to the man's back. The impact, however, did... absolutely nothing.
Shin felt a wave of disgust wash over him. 'Damn this pathetic body,' he cursed to himself, irritated that he couldn't even crush this bandit with a single attack.
It felt like a stain on his pride—he should be able to swat pests like this without even trying. Otherwise what the point of being heavenly demon's succesor?
The bandit, realizing he wasn't hurt, grinned wildly. "There you are!" he bellowed, trying to turn around fully to grab Shin. But before he could finish his motion, a hand clamped onto his face.
"Die," Shin's voice was cold, almost bored.
In a split second, flames erupted from his palm, engulfing the bandit's face.
"
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" The bandit's scream tore through the forest as his entire face was consumed by fire.
The sheer agony was enough to make anyone lose their mind, but especially a guy like him— not a cannon fodder like him who at most can become a bootlicker.
"HELP! HELPPPPPPPPPP MEEEEEEEEEEEE!" he shrieked, his voice raw, desperate, pleading for anyone to come to his aid.
His eyes, or whatever was left of them through the flames, darted forward, hoping—no, praying—that his subordinates would rush in to save him.
But what did he see instead? The other two bandits were already bolting in the opposite direction, their legs pumping furiously like they'd suddenly remembered they had somewhere else to be.
They weren't just running—they were darting in zig-zag patterns, like panicked wild dogs trying to avoid gunfire or dodge an angry predator. Every man for himself, apparently.
No loyalty among idiots.
Shin couldn't help but scoff at the sight.
"Wow, your boys are real brave, huh?" he muttered, watching as the bandits sprinted away, stumbling over roots and rocks in their mad scramble to escape, arms flailing as if that'd somehow make them run faster.
It was almost pathetic how fast they abandoned their so-called leader.
"Stop, pest," Shin muttered, his tone flat and annoyed as he effortlessly caught both of the fleeing bandits.
They weren't particularly fast, and honestly, it was kind of embarrassing how easily he grabbed them, one after the other, like a bored cat snatching up mice.
"Now, let's share some information, shall we?" Shin said with a cold smirk, tossing both bandits toward a nearby tree. They hit the trunk with a thud, sliding down to the ground in a heap, gasping for air.
Shin clenched his fist, already gearing up to beat the information out of them if they didn't cooperate.
…
…
Meanwhile, miles away in a massive wooden tower, their so-called chief lay sprawled out on a large, worn bed, looking up at the ceiling with a groan.
"Sigh… I want to fuck a woman so bad right now," he mumbled, clearly more concerned with his carnal desires than his subordinates getting their asses handed to them in the forest.
Since well he don't know what is happening common sense duh....
The man, Uchiha Hiroshi, didn't look like much of a leader. Early twenties, shoulder-length black hair, brown eyes, and a face that even his mother probably had to squint at to call attractive.
The Uchiha clan symbol was lazily stitched onto the back of his clothes, a reminder of his once-proud heritage.
Yeah, you guessed it—he was one of those Uchiha. Hiroshi had lucked out when the clan massacre went down, managing to avoid getting slaughtered because he had ditched the village that night to visit a famous brothel in the Land of Wind. Priorities, right?
Turns out, that dumb luck paid off. Not only did he survive the massacre, but when he eventually slithered back to the village, he managed to get his hands on a chunk of the Uchiha fortune.
The gods must've been laughing that day. Unfortunately, his good fortune ran out quickly—ANBU operatives tried to kill him not long after his return, forcing him to flee and become a bandit just to survive.
He could've tried to blend in somewhere, live a quiet life, but no… Hiroshi was more than happy with his new lifestyle.
"Maybe I shouldn't have killed those women Siro kidnapped for me from that village," he muttered with a half-hearted sigh, dragging himself up from his bed and strolling lazily to the balcony.
He had a smug grin plastered on his face, even as he thought about it. Yeah, he missed the comfort of the village sometimes, but he sure didn't hate his current life.
Dozens of bandits at his command, access to expensive food, and kidnapped women to use whenever he wanted—no consequences.
Best of all? He wasn't a slave to anyone. No higher authority, no clan duties, nothing. Just him and his own twisted little kingdom. Truly a blessing.
{A/N: Who's gonna break it to him…?}
As Hiroshi gazed out from the balcony, something caught his eye. "Hmm…? What's that?" he muttered, noticing two of his subordinates walking toward the tower.
But behind them, a boy dressed in a black robe followed closely, almost leisurely.
Hiroshi squinted, trying to get a better look, when suddenly the boy glanced up at him—directly at him—and flashed a devilish smile that sent a cold shiver down his spine.
Shin had found his new "main" slave. He didn't know all the details about Hiroshi's bandit group, but that didn't matter.
These scum had attacked and looted from a clan that was under the protection of the Shonin clan.
Hiroshi might've thought he was free, but Shin had other plans.
"I gave you two choices," Shin's voice echoed, cutting through the stillness of the forest like a blade.
What should've been a low, casual mutter was amplified with his qi, carrying it all the way to the wooden tower where Hiroshi stood. The bandit leader stiffened, every word hitting him like a warning bell.
"Either submit to me, or..." Shin's voice dropped, laced with a cruel edge that made Hiroshi's stomach tighten with dread.
"...I'll dig a sword so deep in your ass that whoever manages to pull it out will be declared the new King Arthur."
Hiroshi's eyes widened, his face paling as he stared at the boy in black, still smiling devilishly from below.
The humor in the words didn't mask the menace—Shin wasn't bluffing. And for the first time in a long time, Hiroshi felt something that didn't sit well with him.
Fear.