Kapitel 320: 319-Nightmare

"Your cover is gone!" Renjiro called out, his voice sharp and commanding, cutting through the cacophony of destruction. "It's better you reveal yourselves now so we can end this quickly."

For a moment, there was no response. Only the crackle of flames and the hiss of sap boiling in the trees broke the silence. The forest seemed to hold its breath as if even nature itself was waiting for what would come next.

Renjiro's Sharingan spun lazily beneath his mask, scanning for any movement. The faint ripples of chakra he'd sensed earlier were now more subdued, but still present—a sign that his pursuers were skilled at suppressing their presence.

Out of the smoky haze, figures began to emerge, one by one. Renjiro counted five in total, their silhouettes solidifying as they stepped into the firelight. Their uniforms bore the unmistakable insignia of Kumogakure, the Hidden Cloud. Hardened expressions adorned their faces, their postures those of seasoned warriors.

"Kumo shinobi," Renjiro murmured to himself, his mind racing. Even now, with them standing in front of him, their chakra signatures remained faint—almost imperceptible. It had been this oddity that had alerted him during his journey and prompted his drastic action to lure them out.

One of the shinobi, a wiry man with sharp features, broke the silence. "They were right. Uzumaki Renjiro is indeed a notable sensory-nin. He even managed to pick us out, even with Seiji-sama's help."

The shinobi next to him shot a glare his way. "Mihara, keep quiet," he hissed, his tone sharp.

Renjiro tilted his head slightly, masking his curiosity. "Who is this Renjiro you speak of?" His voice carried an edge of mockery, though behind his mask, his thoughts churned.

'How do they know who I am?' he wondered, his mind racing.

His usually vibrant red hair was dyed black, and his ANBU mask concealed his identity. Few people even knew he'd left the village, due to the nature of the matter at hand, and those who did were from Konoha, not Kumogakure.

At first, he'd assumed they were here to intercept his mission. Kumogakure had always been a rival to Konoha, and their distrust ran deep. But the mention of his name—a detail they shouldn't have known—made him realize there was more to this encounter.

"Don't even try to pretend," another voice interrupted, belonging to a tall man with a commanding presence. His dark eyes gleamed with intensity. "We already know it's you. We're just here to claim the bounty on your head. Nothing personal."

Of course, he was lying, this was just a convenient excuse Kumo decided to use to assassinate Renjiro.

Renjiro stiffened slightly as he thought, 'Were they behind the sudden increase of my bounty?'

"A bounty, huh?" he said, his voice flat. "I think you have the wrong guy."

Before he could finish, a shuriken embedded with an explosive tag whizzed through the air.

The weapon sliced through the smoke with a sharp hiss, multiplying mid-flight into several copies. Renjiro's Sharingan caught every movement as he flickered out of its trajectory.

"Boom!"

The ground erupted behind him in a deafening explosion, the force sending dirt and debris flying.

Mihara flinched at the blast, his nerves on edge. "Do you think we got him?" he asked, his voice tinged with excitement.

Kanai Kame, the leader of the group, shot him a glare.

'Why can't he just keep quiet?' he thought with irritation.

Mihara's kekkei genkai, which allowed him to obscure the presence of himself and his comrades, had been invaluable for this mission. But his talkative nature was quickly grating on Kanai's patience.

"Focus," Kanai snapped. "Stay alert. He's not dead yet."

As if on cue, Renjiro appeared a few meters away, his form materializing out of the smoke like a ghost. "Fine," he said, his tone colder now. "I'll admit it. I'm Renjiro. But how did you figure that out?"

Without waiting for an answer, Renjiro flung several shuriken and star-shaped kunai at the group.

The projectiles gleamed in the firelight before combusting mid-flight, erupting into fiery orbs that multiplied into hundreds. The air filled with the whistling sound of spinning blades as they descended upon the shinobi like a swarm of angry wasps.

The Kumo shinobi reacted quickly, dodging and weaving through the barrage. But Renjiro had anticipated their movements. With a sharp tug, he revealed the threads connected to the projectiles, controlling their trajectories with precision. The weapons curved mid-air, forcing the shinobi to scramble.

One of them, a younger fighter, wasn't fast enough. He cried out as several blades found their mark, embedding themselves in his arms and legs.

Blood spattered onto the ground as he collapsed, writhing in pain. The others barely managed to escape unscathed, their breaths ragged from the effort.

"Formation!" Kanai barked. "Beware of his eyes!"

The remaining four moved in unison, splitting into different directions to surround Renjiro. They quickly began weaving hand signs, their chakra signatures flaring subtly. Renjiro's Sharingan picked up the flow of their movements.

'Three jonin and two elite chunin?' he thought, his brow furrowing beneath the mask.

'I'm a bit disappointed.'

Whatever had been suppressing their presence earlier was no longer active, and he could sense their chakra clearly now.

Before he could act, a sudden pressure gripped his body. His muscles locked, and his limbs refused to respond. His eyes darted around, searching for the cause, but it was too late.

"Lightning Release: Thunder Prison!" the shinobi shouted in unison.

Yellow lightning crackled to life, arcs of electricity converging on Renjiro from all sides. The chakra-infused lightning struck him with a blinding flash, illuminating the forest in a dazzling display. The air sizzled with energy, and the sharp smell of ozone filled Renjiro's nose.

"Shi—" Renjiro began, but the word was cut short as the lightning coursed through him.

His body convulsed violently, muscles seizing under the intense voltage. Sparks flew as the jutsu continued, creating a spectacle that lit up the night.

When the lightning finally subsided, Renjiro's charred body crumpled to the ground. Smoke rose from his singed cloak, and the air was heavy with the smell of burnt fabric and flesh. The Kumo shinobi approached cautiously, their movements tense and deliberate.

Kanai's eyes narrowed as he surveyed the scene. 'This was too easy,' he thought, unease creeping into his mind. Renjiro was a known ANBU operative with a fearsome reputation. To defeat him so quickly felt… wrong.

"Was this some kind of genjutsu?" he wondered aloud. He destabilized his chakra, attempting to break free of any illusions, but nothing changed.

"Well, it seems like Koji-sama was wrong," Mihara said, his tone smug. "He was just another average shi—"

Kanai silenced him with a sharp gesture. His instincts screamed that something was amiss. The air around them seemed heavier, the darkness more oppressive.

Suddenly, the world around them shifted. The vibrant colors of the flames and the forest faded, replaced by a muted greyscale. The night sky turned a deep, blood-red, casting an eerie glow over the landscape. The ground beneath their feet seemed to dissolve, and Kanai felt a sickening lurch as he realized he was no longer standing.

He and his comrades were suspended several meters above the ground, their arms and legs bound tightly to a wooden structure. They were crucified, their bodies immobilized by an invisible force. The oppressive silence was broken by the slow, deliberate sound of footsteps.

Renjiro appeared before them, unharmed and smirking. His Sharingan glowed ominously, the tomoe spinning in a slow, hypnotic dance. "Well," he said, his voice low and mocking. "If you guys won't talk, I can force you to."

Kanai's blood ran cold as he realized the truth. They were trapped—not in reality, but in the twisted world of a genjutsu. Renjiro's genjutsu.

The real nightmare was just beginning.

=====

Bless me with your powerful Power Stones.

Your Reviews and Comments about my work are welcomed

If you can, then please support me on Patreon.

Link - www.patreon.com/SideCharacter

You Can read more chapters ahead on Patreon.

Kommentar Kommentar von 1

Abstimmen

Kapitel 321: 320-Make it stop.

The twisted world of Renjiro's genjutsu hung heavy in the air. The blood-red sky loomed above, a stark, malevolent void that seemed to press down on everything beneath it. The grey-scale landscape stretched out into an eternity of nothingness, its muted tones robbing the world of all life and vibrance.

Suspended in midair, the five Kumo shinobi were crucified against wooden pillars that groaned under the weight of their unseen torment. The air around them was still, unnervingly so, broken only by the faint creak of the wooden restraints and the distant hum of something—something unnatural—lurking just beyond their senses.

Renjiro stood at a distance, his arms crossed as he regarded his prisoners. The faint glow of his Sharingan cut through the muted darkness, its tomoe spinning lazily. A smirk curled beneath his mask.

'Damn, I wish this was the real deal,' he thought bitterly, the frustration gnawing at him.

The genjutsu was a work in progress—a mimicry of Itachi's Mangekyō Sharingan ability, Tsukuyomi.

Renjiro had poured months into refining it, using his fourth tomoe and an infusion of Yin chakra to create a powerful illusion. But it lacked the fluidity and raw omnipotence of the original.

The world it created was static, unchanging, and Renjiro had little to no control over the events that unfolded within it. Unlike Itachi's technique, this imitation could not compress time to deliver days of torment in mere seconds.

'While it's miles weaker than the original, this should do it,' he thought, his gaze settling on the panic-stricken faces of his captives.

Kanai, the leader of the Kumo team, struggled against the invisible force that bound him to the wooden cross. His body strained, muscles twitching as he tried to release the genjutsu.

'Release. Release. RELEASE!' he screamed internally, his chakra flaring as he cycled through every method he knew.

But the bindings held firm. His breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, the oppressive silence of the world around him only amplifying his mounting dread.

'Is this really a genjutsu?' he wondered, his mind racing.

The crimson sky and drained colours felt too vivid, too visceral. A part of him doubted his reality. Was this an illusion, or had he been dragged into some hellish otherworld? The uncertainty clawed at his sanity.

Then, a sound—soft at first, like the faint crackle of distant embers. Kanai's eyes darted downward, and his heart sank.

A sea of green flames roared to life, spreading out from beneath him. The ethereal fire surged and twisted, licking at the wooden beams that held him and his comrades. The heat was absent, but the sight alone was enough to set his nerves on edge.

"What is this?!" one of the Kumo shinobi screamed, his voice breaking the oppressive silence. His wide eyes darted around frantically, his body trembling as the flames climbed higher.

The green fire seeped into the wood, its glow intensifying as it climbed. Kanai could feel it now—a crawling, insidious sensation that crept along his skin. When the flames touched his body, there was a brief moment of stillness.

Then, the pain came.

"Aaargh!!!"

A bone-deep agony erupted within him, unlike anything he had ever felt. It wasn't the searing pain of flesh burning; it was something far worse. It felt as though his very soul was aflame, each ember tearing through his core with relentless ferocity.

"Agh! Stop it! STOP IT!" Mihara's voice rang out, shrill and desperate. He writhed against his bindings, his face twisted in a mask of pure torment.

Kanai's mind spiralled as the pain wracked his body.

'This can't be real. This can't be real!' he thought, the mantra repeating uselessly as the flames consumed him from the inside out.

But the pain—the pain was undeniable. It was too vivid, too sharp to be an illusion. He tried again to break free, his chakra flaring with every ounce of strength he could muster, but the genjutsu held firm. The futility of his efforts gnawed at him, and cracks began to form in his resolve.

Renjiro stepped forward, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. "How did you know about me?" he demanded, his tone sharp and unwavering. His Sharingan glowed ominously, reflecting the green flames.

Of course, Renjiro adjusted his appearance to only show his normal sharingan. He was using bits of his green flame in the genjutsu. It was a spur-of-the-moment idea that Renjiro was delightfully surprised to see working so well. Even if he couldn't exactly tell how that was even possible in the first place.

Kanai barely registered the words. The pain consumed him, drowning out everything else. Renjiro's voice sounded distant, like it was coming from the other side of a vast chasm.

He could see the ANBU operative standing before him, but the sight blurred and wavered, distorted by the haze of his agony.

Renjiro frowned beneath his mask. 'They're not responding.'

He channelled more chakra into the genjutsu, amplifying the flames. The emerald fire roared to life, its intensity doubling. The Kumo shinobi screamed, their voices raw and guttural.

"Answer me!" Renjiro barked. "How did you know about me and my mission?"

Kanai's mind teetered on the edge of collapse. The flames tore through his psyche, unravelling his sense of self.

'What mission?' he thought, his consciousness fraying. 'Who am I?' The pain was so all-encompassing that it obliterated everything else. Memories blurred, thoughts fragmented. He couldn't even comprehend the words Renjiro was saying anymore. All he knew was the fire—the unrelenting, soul-searing fire.

Renjiro's frustration mounted as the shinobi remained uncooperative. "Still nothing?" he muttered. His fingers twitched as he considered his options. "Fine." He poured even more chakra into the genjutsu, pushing the Kumo shinobi to their breaking points.

"MAKE IT STOP!" one of them screamed, his voice hoarse and desperate. "PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP!"

"Then tell me what I want to know," Renjiro demanded coldly.

But the shinobi could no longer form coherent sentences. Their minds were broken, their voices reduced to incoherent wails. Kanai's vision darkened, the edges of his consciousness fraying.

'Is this how it ends?' he thought, despair gripping him. 'Weeks? Months? How long have I been here?'

Then, just as suddenly as it began, the pain ceased.

The green flames vanished, the crimson sky faded, and the grey-scale world dissolved into darkness. Kanai gasped as he felt the cold night air against his skin. He was back in the forest, the familiar scent of smoke and scorched earth filling his lungs. But something was wrong.

He looked around, his body trembling from exhaustion. His comrades lay in crumpled heaps, their bodies unmoving. Kanai's heart sank as he realized they weren't breathing.

He tried to call out to them, but his voice failed him. His eyelids grew heavy, and he fought to stay conscious, knowing that if he closed his eyes, he might never open them again.

Renjiro stood nearby, his gaze fixed on the fallen shinobi. "It looks like the pain was too much for them to handle. I should have been more careful," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.

He turned to Kanai, who met his gaze weakly before his head slumped forward, his life extinguished.

The whole point of Genjutsu was to trick the enemy's mind and while Renjiro did use his flames on the kumo shinobi, his genjutsu managed to trick their minds that everything was real, further magnifying their pain. This ultimately resulted in their deaths.

But Renjiro was not happy. He clenched his fists, frustration bubbling within him.

'Damn it,' he thought bitterly. 'I didn't get any useful information out of them.'

His mind raced as he considered his next move.

'Now it seems like the only option I have is to read their memories,' he thought grimly. The idea unsettled him. Memory-reading was a delicate process, fraught with risks.

The last few times he had attempted it, strange and unsettling things had happened.

And there was always the chance that the Kumo shinobi had countermeasures in place, traps woven into their minds to protect their secrets. Even, Kurogane Ohashi, who wasn't from a minor shinobi village employed such techniques; Kumo was bound to have something more sophisticated.

Renjiro sighed and knelt beside Kanai's body. "Let's hope this doesn't backfire," he muttered.

Placing a hand on the man's forehead, he closed his eyes and channelled his chakra. The world around him faded as he delved into the labyrinth of Kanai's memories.

Fragments of information flickered before him—conversations, orders, the faces of those who had sent the team after him. Renjiro's eyes snapped open as a chilling realization hit him.

"Someone from Konoha sold my information to the other villages?" he yelled, his voice echoing through the empty forest. His fists clenched as anger surged through him.