Sensing the presence of a Sunagakure ninja whose chakra signature reached a full unit—a single card—racing directly toward the Konohagakure logistics squad, Hatake Kyūjō remained still in the shadows.

“So this is what they call an elite Jōnin… Going solo, huh? Trying to play the lone wolf act?”

He smirked slightly, the glow in his eyes sharpening.

“Very well… That just makes you the perfect first target.”

The next second, Kyūjō vanished from where he stood, fully tapping into his limitless perception system that extended across several dozen kilometers.

— — —

Time was not on his side.

If Kyūjō failed to eliminate this elite Sunagakure ninja within the next five minutes, he’d be too late to protect his teammate—someone currently being hunted by another Sunagakure Jōnin.

That someone… was none other than Senju Nawaki.

Nawaki-kun… If this time you can surpass the fate that once took your life during the Second Great Ninja War…

Then live. Survive.

But if you still fall… then even if I have to storm Sunagakure itself… I’ll make them pay.

Having silently split from the enemy squad at a safe distance, Kyūjō let out a slow breath and muttered a silent prayer in his heart.

Without a sound, he unsheathed the short ninja blade at his waist—barely fifty centimeters long—then shot forward to intercept his prey.

He began channeling every bit of his Lightning-natured chakra—only one card’s worth—into his body.

And in a flash of brilliance, Hatake Kyūjō transformed into a streak of blue lightning. A glowing silhouette cloaked in electric aura from head to toe.

Three Sunagakure Jōnin had already scattered across the terrain.

Even if one of them detected him, Kyūjō didn’t care.

He had one objective: to slice down the strongest elite before him.

The rest? Just a game of predator and prey.

No one could escape the grasp of his Infinity Perception.

— — —

A few kilometers ahead, the elite Jōnin named Iwayagawa felt a shift in the air.

He stopped mid-run, his instincts flaring as he sensed the sudden surge of Lightning chakra fast approaching.

“Hmm… A ninja? Lightning-natured… and fast—really fast,” he muttered.

But he didn’t panic.

In fact, his lips curled up.

So Konoha had sent a lightning-type ninja to guard their supplies? Strange choice… but laughable.

As a master of Wind Release, Iwayagawa had the natural elemental advantage.

And besides, he wasn’t just any shinobi—he was a Sunagakure Elite Jōnin.

Unless his opponent was the Third Raikage himself, there was no way he’d lose.

Kyūjō didn’t keep him waiting.

Barely thirty seconds later, a human figure wrapped in blue lightning burst onto the scene.

And the moment Iwayagawa laid eyes on him—

“…A kid?!”

His eyes widened in disbelief.

“That’s—! That’s Lightning Release: Chakra Mode…?!”

“That’s a forbidden technique from Kumogakure! Why is a Konoha ninja using it?!”

Iwayagawa’s thoughts scrambled.

The enemy had a Konoha forehead protector. But the aura—no doubt about it—was from Kumogakure’s secret art.

A technique reserved for the Raikage bloodline…

“Who the hell are you?! Why do you know Kumogakure’s secret technique?!” Iwayagawa barked, glaring at the approaching lightning-clad figure.

But Kyūjō didn’t answer.

He simply raised his chakra blade—and vanished.

In a flash, he rocketed forward, closing a hundred meters in a heartbeat, his body like a blue comet streaking through the air.

“Tch…!” Iwayagawa scowled, instantly forming hand signs. Tiger → Hare → Dog!

“Wind Release: Vacuum Serial Waves!”

He opened his mouth wide, firing a rapid stream of compressed air blades at Kyūjō.

But even with such precision, Kyūjō didn’t flinch.

With graceful footwork and fluid motion, he weaved through the barrage as if taking a stroll through a rainstorm. His eyes were locked on Iwayagawa. The distance between them shrank by the second.

“How is he dodging so easily…?!” Iwayagawa muttered, beads of sweat forming.

He knew now—this boy wasn’t normal.

No—he was a monster.

And if he got close, Iwayagawa’s fate was sealed.

— — —

“Not letting that happen…!”

With desperate speed, Iwayagawa flashed a new sequence of hand signs—only two seals, one hand.

“Wind Release: Turbulent Airflow!”

A whirlwind exploded from his body, kicking up dirt, debris, and sand into the air. In an instant, the battlefield turned into a suffocating sandstorm.

Visibility dropped to zero.

Hyūga Byakugan users would’ve cursed this technique—it blinded even dojutsu users.

But to Iwayagawa, this was his domain.

The thick haze didn’t affect his senses. His Wind-natured chakra let him “see” through the breeze itself.

But for Kyūjō…

He inhaled sharply.

Not because of the fog—but because his body had drawn in too much micro-dust.

With his current Breathing Technique, his oxygen intake had drastically increased, making him vulnerable to even microscopic contaminants.

He immediately shut his breathing—sealed his pores, nose, and mouth. Even his eyes closed.

But not his perception.

With a pulse of Lightning chakra and the activation of Thunder Eye, Kyūjō instantly located his prey.

He raised his hand.

And activated his original technique:

Lightning Judgment.

— — —

Lightning Judgment was Kyūjō’s first self-created ninjutsu in this world—born from combining Thunder Eye and his Lightning chakra.

Its execution mirrored the earlier sneak attack on the Chūnin from Sunagakure.

But now—enhanced by Lightning Release: Chakra Mode—its power had evolved drastically.

What once held the destructive force of a C-Rank jutsu… now surged at A-Rank levels.

And to most ninja, whose defense was paper-thin without protective jutsu—

One strike meant instant death.

The downside?

Kyūjō’s chakra pool was only one card—and Lightning Judgment consumed 0.63 cards per cast.

He had one shot.

— — —

The sky cracked.

Lightning gathered like a vortex of doom, electricity roaring above the battlefield.

Iwayagawa’s instincts screamed—this was no ordinary jutsu.

His fingers blurred.

Seven hand seals formed in less than a second.

“Wind Release: Pressure Damage!”

A massive ball of compressed air surged upward to intercept the lightning.

And then—

BOOM.

Blue lightning collided with howling wind.

The resulting explosion was cataclysmic.

A towering mushroom cloud mushroomed above the desert, shaking the earth beneath.

A deafening shockwave tore through several kilometers, obliterating Iwayagawa’s earlier sandstorm completely.

He survived.

Barely.

But all that lingered in his heart now… was fear.

If the attack hadn’t been so chakra-dense… if it had remained hidden like before…

He would’ve been dead before he even sensed it.

No shinobi could maintain high-level defensive jutsu twenty-four hours a day.

And a hidden S-Rank strike like that?

Unblockable.

Undodgeable.

Unsurvivable.

It was, without doubt—

A true assassination technique.

— — —

But Kyūjō had already confirmed the outcome.

Through Infinity Perception, he saw Iwayagawa—disoriented, shell-shocked, but still alive.

He dashed forward at top speed.

Lightning flashed.

Dozens of afterimages trailed behind him.

By the time Iwayagawa blinked—Kyūjō’s blade was already inches from his face.

The elite Jōnin’s pupils contracted in terror.

Kyūjō… smiled faintly.

But rather than strike his target—

He pivoted.

And stabbed the shadow behind Iwayagawa.

— — —

Shhlick!

A sharp slicing sound echoed.

Blood sprayed from the darkened ground—as if the very shadow was bleeding.

Iwayagawa’s eyes widened as red stained the earth.

He wasn’t alone…?

The hidden threat—assassin or clone—was dealt with in one swift move.

Still dazed, Iwayagawa turned his gaze to Kyūjō’s face. His voice trembled.

“H-How… how can you track me so perfectly…? I-Is it that strange eye of yours…?”

But Kyūjō didn’t answer.

He simply twisted his blade and pulled it free—from directly over the man’s heart.

And before a single drop of blood hit the ground, he vanished in a flash of blue.

He had no interest in answering a dying man.

Not in this world.

Especially not when techniques like—

Edo Tensei (Reanimation Jutsu) existed.

Even the dead could talk.

So loose lips were never safe.

— — —

“Hang in there, Nawaki-kun!”

With that thought blazing in his heart, Hatake Kyūjō pushed his body to the limit.

Only 0.25 cards of chakra remained.

But that would have to be enough.

He poured everything into speed—his body becoming a streak of pure blue light across the desert sky.

Because someone still needed saving.

And Hatake Kyūjō… would not fail.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

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