Chapter 8: A Favorable Impression
Chiba swiftly turned around, his body tensing as he spotted Scarface.
The man was still alive.
Scarface was in a horrific state—his abdomen had been slashed open, and his organs spilled out grotesquely. Chiba couldn't believe anyone could survive such an injury. Yet here Scarface was, standing before him, very much alive.
Gripping his kunai tightly, Chiba tried to gauge whether Scarface still had the strength to fight.
As if sensing Chiba's thoughts, Scarface casually flung a shuriken. The blade whizzed past Chiba's head, barely grazing his scalp.
Scarface's message was clear: despite his injuries, killing Chiba would be no trouble at all.
Chiba froze, paralyzed by fear.
"This is the end," he thought bitterly.
He had killed Scarface's comrades; there was no way they could reconcile. Chiba was certain that he would die here.
A wave of frustration washed over him. Though he had cherished his second chance at life, it seemed that opportunity was about to slip through his fingers.
As memories and thoughts flooded his mind, Scarface suddenly laughed.
"Ha! What an amusing kid. Don't tell me you're scared stiff?"
"Huh?"
Chiba snapped out of his thoughts, confused by the sudden laughter.
Scarface shook his head slightly. "Relax. I'm not going to kill you."
"What?"
Chiba's confusion deepened, quickly morphing into suspicion.
He could only think of one reason why Scarface would spare him—he must still have some use for the man.
"Do you want me to fetch medicine for you?" Chiba asked cautiously.
Scarface shook his head. "No need. My wounds are beyond saving. I'm only alive because nothing critical was hit—yet."
"Then… what do you want from me?" Chiba's unease grew.
Scarface glanced at the forest before speaking, "I just want to tell you that the direction you were heading in is a deathtrap."
"Huh?"
"That path leads to the heart of the battlefield. The further you go, the more dangerous it becomes. It's littered with traps and ambushes. A kid like you wouldn't last long there."
Chiba hesitated, unsure whether to trust Scarface. The man didn't seem to have any reason to lie, but why would he help?
"Why are you helping me?"
Scarface fell silent for a moment before gazing into the distance.
"There's been enough death in this war…"
His voice carried a trace of melancholy, and for the first time, his scarred face seemed almost human.
After a pause, Scarface gave Chiba a faint smile, though it looked more menacing than kind thanks to his disfigurement.
"Let's just say I like you, kid. I want you to live."
Glancing at Kuroshin's corpse, Scarface continued, "I'm not looking for revenge. Truth be told, I didn't like that guy much. If it weren't for orders, I wouldn't have worked with him. Now that he's dead, killing you serves no purpose. You're not a ninja, after all… If anything, we owe you an apology for dragging you into this mess."
Chiba picked up on the subtle hint in Scarface's words.
It was precisely because he wasn't a ninja—and had no chance of becoming one—that Scarface saw no harm in letting him go. He posed no threat to Iwagakure.
Bowing deeply, Chiba expressed his gratitude.
Though Scarface's appearance was intimidating and he likely had countless kills to his name, his actions revealed a streak of humanity.
Chiba recalled an old saying from his previous life: The best way to judge a person's character is by how they act in the face of death.
Scarface, though facing certain death, chose to help rather than harm. This, Chiba decided, made him a good person at heart.
"Come here, kid," Scarface called out suddenly, breaking Chiba's thoughts.
After a moment's hesitation, Chiba approached.
Grabbing Chiba's wrist, Scarface examined it before letting out a low chuckle.
"Ha! Just as I thought."
Chiba followed Scarface's gaze and saw a faint black line running along his artery. His face paled.
"What… what is this?"
"Did you really think killing a ninja was that simple?" Scarface sneered. "Kuroshin's blood carried a slow-acting poison. It wouldn't harm a trained ninja much, but it's lethal to someone like you."
Chiba's mind raced as he recalled the excessive amount of blood Kuroshin had coughed up. Clearly, even in death, Kuroshin had planned to take him down.
"What do I do now?" Chiba asked anxiously, looking at Scarface with desperation.
Scarface didn't disappoint. He rummaged through his ninja pouch and handed Chiba a black pill.
"Take this."
Chiba swallowed the pill, and within moments, the black line on his artery began to fade until it disappeared completely.
"Thank you."
Scarface grinned, his expression as fierce as ever. "No need to thank me. I already told you—I just like you."
He then emptied his ninja pouch, scattering its contents on the ground.
"This isn't much, but it should help you. There's some money, enough to get by for a while. These steel wires can be used for fishing, and this fire-starting tool will help you cook. If you can't find clean water, this gas mask has a filter…"
In just a minute, Scarface had explained the use of every item to Chiba.
"That's all I can do for you. Whether you survive now depends on your luck."
Pointing to a direction, he added, "Follow that path. You'll leave the forest eventually. Stick to the river, and you'll find a village. Leave before the smell of blood attracts predators or enemy ninjas."
"You…"
Chiba hesitated, glancing at the deathly pale Scarface.
"Get going, kid. Before I change my mind and decide to kill you after all."
Gritting his teeth, Chiba bowed one last time. He slung Scarface's ninja pouch over his shoulder and ran off in the direction he had been shown.
As he ran, Scarface's voice echoed behind him.
"Live, kid! Live with everything you've got! Hahaha!"
Chiba paused and turned back, staring silently at the direction where Scarface sat.
"Thank you…" he murmured before continuing into the dark forest.
It was his third day in this world, and already he had faced danger, witnessed the brutality of ninja combat, and killed a Jonin—a high-ranking ninja regarded as one of the most formidable in the land.
What lay ahead, Chiba didn't know.
Looking into the shadowy depths of the forest, a sense of unease gripped him.
For the first time, he felt the weight of the world he had been thrust into.
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