Kapitel 264: 263- Those Eyes

Three figures in black cloaks moved swiftly down a narrow, grimy alleyway, their footsteps soundless as they approached a dingy building. The night was thick, the air oppressive with the smell of wet stone and the faint, acrid odour of something burning in the distance.

Their hoods were drawn low, casting dark veils over their faces, leaving only the lower halves of their mouths exposed to the occasional flicker of light from the scattered, dim lanterns.

As they neared the entrance of the building, a heavily armed guard stepped forward, eyeing them suspiciously. His hand instinctively gripped the hilt of his sabre, a clear indication that he was not one to be trifled with. He was a tall and grizzled man, his face scarred from countless battles.

"Who are you?" he barked, his voice low and threatening, the kind that carried authority in places like these.

His partner, standing a few paces behind him, remained silent but equally alert, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the cloaked figures.

The guard's gaze flicked between the trio, but he wasn't too concerned about the secrecy of their cloaked faces. Many of the patrons who visited this place were wary of exposing their identities—anonymity was a valued currency here.

In the depths of Konoha's underworld, people did things they wanted to keep hidden, and in a place like this, discretion was expected.

The figure at the front of the group stepped forward, still shrouded in darkness, and extended a hand. The guard squinted, trying to get a better look at what was being shown to him.

A small wooden insignia, worn but unmistakable, was presented for a brief moment, illuminated by the faint light. The guard's expression shifted slightly, his grip on the sword loosening as he nodded in recognition. He glanced back at his partner, who returned the nod, and together they stepped aside.

Just as the figures moved to enter, the second guard approached cautiously, beginning to weave a series of hand signs—a simple security measure.

However, before the guard could complete his jutsu, one of the cloaked figures pulled back their hood just enough to reveal something much more dangerous, their eyes.

The crimson glow of Sharingan's eyes flashed in the dim light, the tomoe swirling hypnotically. The guard's movements faltered as his eyes locked onto the red orbs, his mind clouding over in an instant. His hands dropped to his sides, he had forgotten what he was about to do.

The figures passed through the entrance without another word, and the guards left dazed, forgetting what they had even been doing. The trio immediately split apart as they entered the building. Inside, the building's true nature revealed itself.

The large room they entered was dimly lit, the oppressive air thick with the mingled scents of sweat, blood, and cheap alcohol. The layout resembled an underground coliseum, with rows of tiered seating surrounding a large, sunken pit in the centre.

The flickering light from wall-mounted torches cast long, twisted shadows that danced across the crumbling stone walls, giving the place an almost otherworldly feel. Above the pit, suspended in rusty metal cages, were children. They were filthy, their bodies bruised and bloodied, their faces twisted in fear and exhaustion.

In the pit below, two children—no older than ten—were locked in a brutal fight, their small fists swinging wildly as they struggled to survive. Around them, a crowd of masked and cloaked figures cheered and jeered, their voices a cacophony of twisted excitement.

Bets were being placed, money exchanged hands, and the atmosphere was charged with bloodlust.

Renjiro's eyes narrowed beneath his hood as he took in the sight. His stomach turned at the sight of the children forced to fight for the amusement of the crowd.

'This is truly despicable,' he thought, his jaw clenched tightly. The cruelty of it all was a stark reminder of the darkness that still lingered beneath the surface of the shinobi world, hidden from the public eye but thriving in places like this.

Just then, a soft hum vibrated through the seal tag on Renjiro's forearm. It was the signal he had been waiting for. He allowed a small, grim smile to cross his face. This charade had gone on long enough.

With a quick, subtle movement, Renjiro made his first move. In a puff of smoke, five identical shadow clones materialized around him. Their expressions were as cold and determined as his own. His real self and his clones immediately activated their Sharingans.

Without hesitation, the massacre began.

Renjiro's hands quickly retrieved a pair of twin swords he had stored in one of his storage seals, and in one fluid motion, he drew them, the blades gleaming ominously in the torchlight.

His first target was a man standing near the edge of the pit, laughing at the children's suffering below.

"Hiss!"

Before the man could react, Renjiro's blade slashed through the air, cleanly severing his throat. The man crumpled to the ground, his lifeblood spilling onto the dirt floor.

The crowd barely had time to register what was happening before Renjiro and his clones were upon them. They moved with deadly precision, cutting down anyone in their path.

Renjiro's Sharingan tracked every movement, every panicked step, predicting the actions of his enemies before they even had a chance to react.

One of Renjiro's clones leapt into the crowd, his blade cutting through the air with the speed of lightning. A guard raised his weapon in a futile attempt to defend himself, but the clone was faster.

With a single, sweeping strike, the guard's chest was sliced open, and he fell to the ground in a heap, his sword clattering uselessly beside him.

The masked figures who had been so eager to watch the children's suffering now scrambled to escape, but there was no escape. Renjiro's clones moved like spectres, their blades cutting through the crowd with brutal efficiency.

Bodies fell in rapid succession, the once lively cheers of the crowd replaced with terrified screams and the sickening sound of flesh being sliced apart.

Renjiro's real self, meanwhile, focused on the guards who rushed into the room, drawn by the commotion. They charged at him with weapons raised, but they were no match for the power of the Sharingan.

With a quick sidestep, Renjiro dodged the first attack, his blade slashing upward in a deadly arc. The guard's head snapped back as the blade sliced through his neck, and he crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Another guard came at Renjiro from behind, but his Sharingan allowed him to see the attack before it even happened. With a quick spin, Renjiro brought his sword around, the blade catching the guard across the chest.

Blood sprayed into the air, and the guard fell to the ground, clutching at the wound as his life drained away.

The children in the cages watched in wide-eyed terror as the carnage unfolded before them. Their small hands gripped the bars of their cages, their bodies trembling as they saw the once-powerful figures who had forced them to fight now being cut down one by one.

Renjiro noticed the fear in their eyes and knew he couldn't allow them to panic. One of his clones stepped forward, his Sharingan locking onto the children.

With a single glance, he cast a powerful genjutsu, and the children's eyes glazed over. Their bodies slumped against the bars of their cages as they fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

By the time the last body hit the floor, the room was eerily silent. Renjiro stood in the centre of the blood-soaked arena, his chest rising and falling steadily as he surveyed the aftermath. His blades were slick with blood, but his face remained emotionless. This had to be done. There was no room for mercy here.

A few moments later, Kakashi appeared at the entrance, his face grim as he took in the scene. His eyes, though usually hidden behind his mask of nonchalance, now betrayed a hint of sadness.

"I found more kids locked up in the back," Kakashi said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It's worse than we thought."

Renjiro nodded. "We'll wait for more instructions from Wolf," he replied, his voice cold but resolute. Wold was the codename that Yano used during missions.

As they spoke, a sudden gust of wind swept through the room, and both shinobi turned, sensing the presence of another. A lone figure emerged from the shadows, his face twisted in fury. His eyes, burning with rage, locked onto Renjiro and Kakashi.

"You…" the man growled, his voice trembling with anger. "How dare you!"

Renjiro's heart skipped a beat as he saw the man's eyes. They were red but not like the Sharingan.

'Those eyes…'

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Kapitel 265: 264-Crying Over Spilt Blood

Renjiro's eyes narrowed as he stared at the newcomer, the eerie glow of the Ketsuryūgan burning from the man's eyes.

'I knew that Kumo was involved in this whole thing, but did they have to station a shinobi from the Chinoike clan here?' Renjiro thought bitterly.

The very presence of someone from the Chinoike clan was troubling—especially after all the blood that had been spilt in the massacre moments before.

Although the storyline involving the Chinoike clan came much towards the later end of the anime, Renjiro remembered it clearly. Their Kekkei Genkai, the Ketsuryūgan, was said to rival the Sharingan in power, specifically in its ability to control blood and cast terrifying genjutsu.

'Anyway, no need in crying over spilt blood.' Renjiro resolved.

This wasn't going to be a simple fight. Renjiro could feel the intensity radiating from the new entrant, and he knew that the Chinoike's affinity with blood put him at a serious disadvantage.

The entire room was soaked with the blood of those Renjiro had just killed, and Kawana would be able to manipulate it with ease.

"This matchup won't be a walk in the park," Renjiro muttered under his breath. His eyes flickered toward Kakashi, who was closer to the children they had rescued toward the exit.

Suddenly, a flicker of movement caught Renjiro's attention. Kawana Chinoike made a swift hand gesture, his Ketsuryūgan glowing brighter as all the blood that had been spilt on the ground began to quiver. Renjiro's eyes widened in realization.

"Beware of his abilities, more so the Genjutsu!" he shouted at Kakashi, but it was already too late.

The blood from Renjiro's earlier massacre coalesced into thick, serpentine whips, cracking violently through the air. The blood whips lashed toward Kakashi and the children.

In an instant, Renjiro's shadow clones darted forward to intercept the attack, their bodies flickering as they moved to protect the kids.

Kakashi reacted quickly, slamming his hands to the ground and creating a defensive mud wall. The earth rose between them and the whips, but the force of Kawana's attack was tremendous.

The whips sliced through the mud wall like it was paper, and one of the blood whips crashed into Kakashi, sending him flying backwards.

The crack of the blood whip was deafening, like a thunderclap, and Kakashi grunted as the force of the blow knocked the wind out of him. Three of Renjiro's shadow clones were obliterated by the attack, being dispelled, but their sacrifice ensured the children remained unharmed.

'He just had to arrive after I killed all these people,' Renjiro thought bitterly as he surveyed the blood-soaked room.

Kawana's ability to manipulate blood was going to be a serious problem. This was where the Chinoike clan thrived—when there was plenty of blood to use as a weapon.

Renjiro clenched his fists, 'Their genjutsu can't work on me, so I need to take care of this quickly,' he thought.

Without wasting another second, Renjiro darted toward Kawana, moving like a shadow through the blood-streaked room.

Kawana's Ketsuryūgan eyes tracked Renjiro's approach, and with another flick of his hand, he sent a wave of blood whips crashing toward him.

Renjiro's shadow clones, who had survived the initial onslaught, sprang into action. They weaved through the air with impressive speed, lightning crackling in their palms.

"Zzzzzzzt!"

The sound of Chidori ripped through the air as the clones slashed at the blood whips with crackling arcs of lightning, cutting them down before they could reach the children.

The sizzling sound of the lightning chakra evaporating the blood echoed through the room. Kakashi, still recovering from the earlier attack, looked up, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw Renjiro's clones wielding the Chidori.

'Did he learn a new jutsu?' Kakashi thought.

He had never seen Renjiro use the Chidori before, not even during their missions in the ANBU. Renjiro had been careful not to use it, not wanting to interfere with Kakashi's development. But now, in this desperate situation, Renjiro had no choice.

While the clones worked to neutralize the blood whips, Renjiro closed the distance between him and Kawana. Their movements became a blur of speed and precision, both shinobi exchanging deadly strikes.

Kawana's hands moved fluidly as he manipulated the blood around him, sending deadly tendrils of crimson toward the children whenever he saw an opening.

But Renjiro was always there, intercepting the attacks with precise counter-strikes, his Sharingan predicting Kawana's every move.

"You're not getting anywhere near those kids," Renjiro growled as he deflected another wave of blood spikes with his swords, the metal gleaming as they sliced through the air.

Kawana sneered, Renjiro had misunderstood his actions. He wanted to retrieve the kids and not kill them.

With a swift hand seal, Kawana attempted to detonate the corpses strewn across the floor, hoping to create chaos and a distraction. But Renjiro's shadow clones were faster. They dashed toward the bodies, their hands crackling with Chidori, and in rapid succession, they neutralized the corpses.

The room shook from the force of the explosions being diffused, the walls trembling under the strain. Dust and debris rained down from the ceiling, and for a moment, Renjiro felt the ground beneath him shift.

His clones were doing their best to contain Kawana's bloody onslaught, but the situation was growing more dangerous by the second.

'Where is Yano?' Renjiro's clone thought in frustration.

If Yano were here, they could have dealt with Kawana much more easily. The mission was spiralling out of control, and Renjiro knew they couldn't keep this up for long.

Meanwhile, Kawana's mind raced as he continued his assault. 'I wanted to hold back to see if they had another person they were working with,' he thought, his blood-soaked fingers twitching as he formed more hand signs.

'But it doesn't look like they do. I need to kill them before they take the kids. Getting these children and the Sharingan back to the village would be a major win for us. But I need to be careful with this Uchiha.'

Kawana's eyes narrowed as he focused on Renjiro. His Ketsuryūgan glowed ominously, the blood vessels around his eyes bulging as he prepared to unleash his clan's powerful genjutsu. But just as he began weaving the genjutsu's intricate layers, Renjiro smiled grimly.

"Your genjutsu won't work on me," Renjiro said confidently, his Sharingan spinning faster as he met Kawana's gaze head-on. But as he spoke, a cold sweat suddenly trickled down his back.

Something was wrong. His heart pounded in his chest, and a surge of foreign chakra coursed through his body.

Without warning, Renjiro felt something deep unlock within him, and he involuntary opened all the three gates he had access to. The power surged through him like a dam bursting, and in an instant, his three-tomoe Sharingan shifted into four-tomoe.

Kawana's eyes narrowed as he felt the shift in Renjiro. But before he could react, Renjiro appeared behind him, his twin swords already drawn.

Kawana barely had time to turn before Renjiro's blades plunged into his abdomen. The cold steel pierced through Kawana's flesh with deadly precision, the sound of metal sinking into flesh echoing through the room.

Kawana gasped, blood spurting from his mouth as he staggered, his hands trembling as they tried to reach for the blades.

"You—" Kawana wheezed, his voice barely above a whisper.

But Renjiro wasn't done. With a grim expression, he channelled lightning chakra through his swords, and the blades crackled with electricity. Kawana's body convulsed violently as the electricity surged through him, his muscles seizing up as the shock overwhelmed him.

"Bzzzzt!"

The sound of crackling lightning filled the air as Kawana's life was extinguished. His body went limp, his eyes losing their crimson glow as the light faded from them.

Renjiro withdrew his blades, and Kawana's lifeless body crumpled to the ground, hitting the blood-soaked floor with a dull thud.

As Kawana's body hit the ground, Renjiro suddenly dropped to his knees, gasping for breath. His vision blurred, and a sharp pain shot through his head.

Clutching his temples, he let out a pained grunt as foreign memories began flooding into his mind. Images flashed before his eyes—memories that weren't his, emotions that didn't belong to him.

"What… what is this…?" Renjiro whispered through gritted teeth, the pain intensifying with every passing second.

The power of the Chinoike's bloodline and the strain of his own newly evolved Sharingan were taking their toll on him. Renjiro's vision swam as the room around him seemed to spin. He clutched his head tighter, trying to make sense of the chaotic influx of memories that assaulted his mind.