"Seriously, what a pain. Those people died, so they died. Why bother investigating?"
"Several villagers in there know the location of our encampment. If they leak it, you will bear the responsibility."
"So why didn't we just kill those guys directly instead of letting them go back?"
At the Yugakure encampment, a village official was giving orders to a Jonin. This particular Jonin, distinguished by his slicked-back silver hair and violet eyes, wore such an expression of impatience that the official had to suppress his own annoyance. The official resolved firmly that once this shinobi completed his mission, he would teach him a lesson about respecting superiors, using the proper ninja code, of course.
Running flat out, the Yugakure Jonin arrived at the ravaged small town without pause.
The silence of the village intensely irritated Hidan. Why did these villagers get to sleep so peacefully while he had to be out here protecting them and rescuing people?
"Whatever, I'll just find someone to ask first," he muttered.
He wandered the streets, looking for any house that hadn't barred its door. Only a handful of homes in the entire village still showed lights. After interrogating the occupants of each one with his characteristically foul attitude, he still hadn't learned where the captured villagers had been taken.
"Hey, you! Stop right there!"
Just as the Jonin was about to give up and report that he couldn't find the hostages, he spotted a villager who seemed to be furtively tailing him.
Upon being discovered, the villager, clad in rough, earth-grey hemp clothing, panicked and fled. Relying on his familiarity with the village layout, he deliberately ran in circles before thinking he'd shaken off the ninja. The villager stopped, bending over to catch his breath.
"I thought you might want to run a few more laps."
A contemptuous tone dripped from the voice, laced with arrogance. The silver-haired Yugakure Jonin looked down upon the terrified villager, who had stumbled and fallen to the ground.
"Don't... don't kill me... Lord Ninja... I was just curious..."
"Curious? Ha? Are you looking to die? If you don't know where those captured villagers went, I'll just say you took them. Yeah, that works. Then they can't blame me for failing the mission."
"...Ah..."
"Hey, cooperate a little. You're the culprit now."
The Yugakure Jonin walked over to the villager and kicked him hard, twice. The man tumbled several times, crashing against stone steps before curling up, clutching his head.
The Jonin hauled him up with one hand, clearly having no intention of letting him go.
"I'll ask one more time. If you really don't know, then you can be my prisoner."
"Have you seen any other captured villagers, or maybe other ninja?!"
"Yes... Yes!" the dark-skinned villager stammered, looking up fearfully and spotting the Jonin's forehead protector. He hastily confessed.
"I knew you were lying from the start, you bastard! Spit it out!"
"I... This afternoon, I saw... two young-looking ninja... they came to our village... I even spoke with them..."
"Which village were they from?"
"I... I don't know."
The villager shook his head. He felt the ninja's grip tightening relentlessly, the fear of death gripping him.
"I... I really don't know... but... maybe... maybe they were the ones who took everyone.... Later, they headed off... in that direction..."
"That direction?"
The Yugakure Jonin casually tossed a kunai up and down in his hand, looking with morbid curiosity at the villager who had spilled everything out of fear.
"You take me there."
"I... Lord Ninja... I don't know the way..."
"How boring. Then you can just die."
The kunai flashed across the villager's throat. A spray of blood erupted, and the man instantly stopped struggling, all signs of life vanishing. The Yugakure Jonin wiped the blood from his kunai. Amidst the faint, fearful peering of other villagers awakened by the noise, he walked out of the village, heading in the direction indicated.
He wasn't in a hurry now. All he needed was confirmation that other ninja had been here; it didn't matter who they were, as long as he could file his report.
Preferably, they'd be strong. Preferably, they could injure him. Preferably, they could make him suffer. That would be simply wonderful.
He pictured the beautiful scene of an enemy's blood spraying during his last fight, recalled the exquisite sensation of his own injuries. The silver-haired Jonin's eyes grew more fervent with anticipation. He wished he could find those two ninja immediately and clash with them.
It was the most effective way to relieve his inner desires on such a dull night.
He had a feeling – these two were definitely strong. His intuition was quite accurate; it rarely failed him.
He sensed it, he sensed it! That pulse-pounding, exhilarating scent of blood! What kind of intense battle could produce such an aroma?
The Yugakure Jonin gradually slowed his pace. Yes, he desperately wanted to fight and feel pain, but if he carelessly died because of it, he'd never be able to live like this again.
Signs of a fierce battle scarred the surroundings: large swathes of felled trees, groundwater bubbling up from below, and the lower half of a giant mushroom embedded in the earth.
"So, the fight's already over, huh."
Disappointment washed over him. He had hoped for a good fight. How dull, how boring. From the looks of it, even if the winner survived, they'd surely be in no condition for another intense battle. The Jonin, who despised tracking and pursuit above all else, walked towards the center of the battlefield. The bloodstains there had already dried and turned black, seeping into the soil.
There were also some scattered internal organs.
"Such a fierce fight, tsk."
Suddenly, he noticed the organs twitch slightly.
"Still moving? Doesn't look like they just died."
He crouched down and picked up a piece of viscera. It pulsed in the Jonin's hand, brimming with vitality.
A light breeze rustled through the trees. The image of a silver-haired young man with red eyes observing a lump of flesh was unsettling, to say the least.
«I really want to tear into it.»
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than he acted on it. He lowered his head and savagely bit into the living piece of flesh in his hand, tearing and gnawing.
One piece wasn't enough. Two, three... After consuming all the scattered pieces of flesh, hallucinations appeared before his eyes.
Dancing, scattered tendrils forming masses of flesh... Eyes, so numerous they made his scalp crawl.
«Is this a god?»
«This is Lord Jashin!»
His skin bizarrely turned black, his face white. The Yugakure Jonin completed his own metamorphosis, his evolution.
Now, I just need to follow my faith, and I will obtain eternal life, endless slaughter, and infinite pain!
How wonderful! How magnificent!
Dancing erratically, he used his foot to draw a circle on the ground, with a triangle inside it.
He prostrated himself, searching for that specific drop of blood.
"Found it!"
Joyfully, he scooped up the single drop of blood with his finger and placed it in his mouth. He tasted the powerful life force of the victor, the shame of one who had blasphemed against Lord Jashin and yet still lived.
"Well then, the price for the shame of blaspheming against Lord Jashin shall be paid with your life!"
Pulling three nail-like weapons from a nearby tree trunk, the Yugakure Jonin stepped inside the triangle, laughing wildly, uncontrollably.
"Hahahahahaha! Let's start with the thigh!!!"
"Schlick!" The strange weapon plunged deep into the Yugakure Jonin's own thigh.
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