"What do you mean you don't know?!"
Terumī Mei's voice rose in disbelief.
"You're telling me you don't even know who you lost to?"
That was—
utterly shocking.
So shocking that she didn't even know what to say next.
"I'm telling you—we just don't know!"
Hōzuki Mangetsu was getting irritated now. Scowling, he snapped back,
"Just as Ringo was about to skewer those Konoha brats like meat on a stick, this weird-looking guy suddenly appeared—bald on top like a kappa, thick eyebrows, wearing a green bodysuit! He jumped out of nowhere and kicked Ringo so hard that she was barely clinging to life!"
"A kappa head… thick eyebrows… green bodysuit…"
Jūzō Biwa mentally pieced those features together.
But—
no matter how hard he tried,
he couldn't recall any Konoha shinobi who looked like that.
"Wait—one kick?"
Terumī Mei's eyes widened.
Her focus was completely different from Jūzō's. The young woman leaned forward, incredulous.
"You're saying he killed Ringo Ameyuri with a single kick?"
She had never worked directly with the Seven Ninja Swordsmen, but as a Kirigakure shinobi, she knew well what kind of monsters they were. This generation might not have been the strongest in history, but they were far from weak—every one of them was a top-class jōnin, elites among elites.
And yet—
one of them had been kicked to death?
Sure, shinobi were known for their high offense and low defense,
but that didn't mean they were made of glass.
"That's right."
Mangetsu met her skeptical stare head-on, unflinching.
"With one kick—Ringo was down to her last breath. We were all stunned, couldn't believe what we were seeing. We thought we were dreaming… and while we were still frozen, that thick-eyebrowed freak kicked me next. I exploded into a puddle of water on the spot…"
He trailed off.
The memory of that overwhelming strike flashed through his mind, and his body involuntarily shuddered.
A few seconds later, he sighed softly.
"If not for the Hydrification Technique… that kick would've killed me too."
Seeing Mangetsu's grim expression, both Jūzō and Terumī Mei exchanged uneasy glances.
Neither spoke.
Uninterrupted, Mangetsu continued to recount that wretched memory.
"Once I was scattered into water, the others immediately counterattacked. Let me make one thing clear—it wasn't that we were slow. It was him—that thick-eyebrowed man—he was too fast. So fast that our reactions looked sluggish in comparison!"
"Fuguki, Jinpachi, Jinin—they couldn't even touch him. And we, on the other hand, could barely dodge. The whole fight didn't even last five minutes before Jinpachi, Jinin, and Raiga were all dead—each killed by a single punch or kick from that man."
A chill swept through the room.
The Seven Ninja Swordsmen were all jōnin.
Not just any jōnin—some of the strongest in the entire village.
And yet, from what Mangetsu was describing, killing one of them sounded easier than swatting a mosquito.
"In the end, only Fuguki and I were still standing. Luckily, that thick-eyebrowed guy's strength started to fade. He must've been using some kind of extreme forbidden technique—burning through his life force to draw out that monstrous power. I can't say for sure, but… when we retreated, it looked like he didn't have long to live either."
"Then why didn't you try to bring back the body?"
Terumī Mei asked instinctively.
If Mangetsu was telling the truth—
then the technique that man used to forcibly draw out his life potential had immense research value.
If they could recover his body, Kirigakure's researchers might be able to uncover the secret behind that forbidden art.
"You think it's that easy?" Mangetsu's face darkened.
"That thick-eyebrowed bastard might've looked like he was about to die—but he was still breathing. Who could guarantee he wouldn't suddenly get back up and take one of us with him?!"
His voice grew low and cold.
"And those little genin had already fired signal flares for help. If we'd lingered even one or two more minutes, we would've been surrounded by Konoha reinforcements. We'd all have died in that cursed forest!"
He and Fuguki both knew how valuable that forbidden technique was.
If they'd had even a sliver of a chance, they would've taken the risk.
But there wasn't any chance.
Even fleeing at full speed, they had been chased all the way to the coast. If not for timely reinforcements from their main force, Fuguki probably would've been torn to pieces by Konoha's pursuit unit.
"Thick eyebrows… green bodysuit…" Jūzō muttered, frowning deeply.
"I've never heard of anyone like that in Konoha."
"That's what I've been saying!"
Mangetsu threw up his hands, exasperated.
His face was the very picture of Why is no one believing me?
"…A hidden, nameless master, then?"
Terumī Mei murmured softly, ignoring Mangetsu's whining.
Her eyes glinted with awe and a hint of envy.
"Konoha really is… vast and deep."
Even with the loss of monsters like the White Fang,
they still had the Legendary Sannin, the Yellow Flash, and the Uchiha clan's "Demon-Eyed" prodigy—
and that wasn't even counting the Third Hokage, or the elder generation like Shimura Danzō.
And now, apparently, there was another—
a nameless warrior, strong enough to nearly wipe out the Seven Ninja Swordsmen alone.
Konoha's strength was—
nothing short of terrifying.
"Konoha's foundation… is truly monstrous," Jūzō murmured in agreement, nodding slowly.
In the Third Great Ninja War, Konoha had crushed the Sunagakure, Kumogakure, Iwagakure—and even their own Kirigakure.
They had fought almost the entire shinobi world,
and somehow still won.
He didn't want to admit it—
but denying it would just be lying to himself.
The mess hall fell into silence.
No one spoke again.
Jūzō finally stood up, picking up his tray and heading toward the return counter—
When suddenly—
"Jūzō-sama! Bad news! Orochimaru—Orochimaru's chakra is moving toward us!!"
A sensory ninja burst through the door like a dog with its tail on fire, shouting in terror.
The calm that had barely settled over the room
was shattered in an instant—
like a bomb dropped into a still pond.