Chapter 236 – Yomi-no-Tsukuni? A Path of Numbers and Mechanisms Alike!
"Divine Art…"
Kitagawa Gen stared at his status panel, momentarily stunned.
The concept of a divine art wasn't exactly unfamiliar. For the Ōtsutsuki, such things were innate.
In fact, every Ōtsutsuki was born with one—their greatest trump card:
The Kāma.
The Kāma itself was essentially a natural divine art. It guaranteed that members of the Ōtsutsuki clan could revive again and again, fruit or no fruit.
But beyond that? Self-awakened divine arts were exceedingly rare. As far as Gen knew, only Shibai Ōtsutsuki—the so-called "God of the Ōtsutsuki"—had them.
"…And now I've awakened one myself?"
His expression twisted into something between amusement and disbelief, though a thought quickly came to him.
"Could it be… Isshiki stole Shibai's divine art, and the Kāma's chakra, once devoured by the Divine Tree's Source, fed back into me?"
That would explain it.
Like with Kaguya's chakra, Gen had been unable to absorb Isshiki's fully, so he had "fed" it to the Divine Tree's Source instead.
And now, impossibly—this was the reward.
Yomi-no-Tsukuni.
"What kind of jutsu is this…?"
Gen forced himself to calm down. He knew one thing for certain: every divine art was absurdly powerful.
Take Isshiki's Daikokuten and Sukunahikona. Used in tandem, even fellow Ōtsutsuki could barely resist.
Or the Kāma's space-bending "claw marks," practically indispensable for battle.
Not to mention Senrigan and Shinjigen: one that could see the past, the other that glimpsed the future.
Or Reflection, capable of rebounding any attack, its lethality magnified by the killing intent behind it.
And of course, the most outrageous of them all—Omnipotence.
Boruto's curse, Sarada's trigger, Sasuke's undoing. The power to manifest one's very thoughts into reality.
Limited, yes, but reality-warping all the same.
Compared to those, Yomi-no-Tsukuni felt no less broken.
Its power?
To shift any attack from one moment in time to another.
In other words—when activated, every attack against Gen could be delayed, forcibly pushed into a different time interval.
"And… it works for my own attacks too?"
His face turned stranger by the second.
If an enemy blocked one of his strikes, Yomi-no-Tsukuni would let him delay its effect, making it detonate later—when the opponent's guard was down.
No wonder it was called a divine art. The ability itself carried a flavor of inevitability.
"An art of offense and defense both… I control when others walk the path to the underworld."
The thought left him both awed and grimly amused.
"…This bloodline really is cheating."
Of course, it wasn't without limits. The longer he delayed, the stronger the attack he tried to shift, the tougher the opponent—the more chakra it devoured.
But unlike the Sharingan or Rinnegan, it consumed no eye power, no spiritual force—only chakra.
"So, in theory… as long as I have chakra, I can keep using it?"
Gen rubbed his chin, then smirked bitterly. In practice, the cost meant he could probably only manage it once or twice in a serious battle.
But once or twice would be enough to decide everything.
Against someone like Isshiki—revived, confident, unstoppable—Gen could simply delay a strike and let it fall when Isshiki's new body was at its weakest.
"Barely revived, only a day or two left to live? One blow would finish him on the spot."
Or Uchiha Obito. His Izanagi made him maddeningly difficult to kill, rendering death meaningless.
Until now, Gen had no counter.
But Yomi-no-Tsukuni changed everything.
Delay the strike, let Obito think himself safe—and then, when he least expected it… annihilation.
"Izanagi or not, you won't escape me."
The more he thought about it, the more exhilarated he became. The technique suited him perfectly.
And it wasn't just the divine art. His bloodline had advanced again—boosted heavily by his mastery of Yin-Yang Release.
His chakra surged with greater control. His eyes consumed energy more efficiently. His body's durability approached the mythical.
Every step brought him closer to weaving all bloodline limits together into the ultimate unity: the Bloodline Net.
"The raw beauty of numbers, the elegance of mechanism… I walk both paths now."
He stretched lazily, a satisfied smile on his lips.
But already, schemes began to churn in his mind.
More divine arts existed. Shibai had several. And with enough planning, enough "farming" of the Ōtsutsuki… Gen intended to claim them all.
"…Though wait. If Yomi-no-Tsukuni manipulates time… could it be that Isshiki's energy fused with the Dragon Vein?"
The thought puzzled him, but he let it go. For now.
As he stepped out of the Amenominaka, a sudden knock came at his door.
"Senpai, are you there?" came Ino's voice from outside.
---
Elsewhere, within the Akatsuki hideout—
Orochimaru peered at Kimimaro, watching the boy's once-rampant chakra slowly stabilize. He licked his lips faintly, eyes glittering.
"So the Byakugan treatment really worked… Kimimaro's condition is stabilizing."
He wasn't sure why he cared so much. Maybe because Kimimaro's mistakes had dragged him down before—
as a "guide" that led Jiraiya to him, as the reason for defeat in Wind.
But now? Now his obsession had borne fruit.
Through Kimimaro, he had finally glimpsed secrets linking the Hyūga and Kaguya clans.
Secrets that promised even greater rewards.
"Hyūga, Kaguya… just like Uchiha and Senju."
He chuckled low, his tongue flicking across his lips.
"What other mysteries do you hide, I wonder?"
Black Zetsu cursed silently in his heart.
There were some things he simply could not say aloud. After all, the Hamura branch of the Ōtsutsuki clan had long since migrated to the moon.
Besides, Kitagawa Gen hadn't shown any obvious signs of possessing those lunar abilities, so all Black Zetsu could do was stall.
"Regardless, the answer is right in front of us. Study it carefully enough, and one will surely appear."
"…That's true."
Orochimaru's lips curled into a thin smile. His unblinking gaze fell on Black Zetsu, making the latter feel distinctly uneasy.
"Don't look at me like that," Black Zetsu growled. "I've delivered what you wanted. Now—what about you?"
"Relax," Orochimaru said smoothly, finally withdrawing his stare. "What you've been waiting for is nearly prepared. A little fine-tuning, and we'll once again behold the specter of the Shura who once bathed the shinobi world in blood."
"…Good."
Black Zetsu gave a faint nod. At last, the issue of reviving Uchiha Madara was moving toward resolution.
But Orochimaru's next words made his stomach sink.
"Just one thing. With the world in its current state—do you honestly believe bringing Madara back will even matter?"
"…"
Damn it. What exactly am I supposed to do?
Black Zetsu was left grappling with the uncomfortable question. And Obito, nearby, was no less lost.
Unlike Nagato—whose morale had somehow reignited after uncovering the supposed cause of his failures—Obito found himself utterly crushed.
Kitagawa Gen. Ōtsutsuki Genshiki shiki.
Just thinking of those names, of their overwhelming might, was enough to make him feel powerless.
"…Even Kakashi. That guy's strength has become such a thorn for me."
He chuckled bitterly. The irony stung. Kakashi's eye was his gift—yet in the end, even he could not best his former friend.
And compared to those godlike clashes shaking the heavens and earth? He wasn't even qualified to participate.
"How… did it all come to this?"
His chest tightened with pain. This wasn't the world he wanted. He had planned to become the Ten-Tails' jinchūriki, to forge a new reality where Rin's tragedy would never be repeated.
But with his current strength, even that dream felt impossibly out of reach.
How can I save this world… create peace… when I can't even take a single step forward?
His fists clenched tight. The anguish hollowed him out, dragging him back to the days of his youth.
Back when he was the village's weakest shinobi, mocked as a hopeless failure.
Back when Rin's encouragement had been the only light keeping him moving forward.
And now—
"Now, I have nothing."
Buzz—
Just as despair threatened to swallow him whole, a sudden surge of power ignited inside him.
In an instant, the energy engulfed his body—until, with a roar, a colossal Susanoo materialized around him.
"What… is this?"
Obito stared up at the towering avatar, wide-eyed and trembling. The impossible strength coursing through him was real—yet utterly incomprehensible.
Still, deep down, a truth stirred.
"…This… is my power?"
He whispered in disbelief.
Unaware that, on the back of his neck, a faint black rhombus-shaped mark had begun to glow.
---