Chapter 82 — "Yujiro's Massacre: The Mist Annihilated"
Yujiro: "Tsunade-nee, take her and go."
Tsunade: "Will you be alright on your own?"
Yujiro: "Don't worry about me."
Tsunade didn't hesitate. She hoisted Pakura over her shoulder, gave the unconscious kunoichi a few quick taps to ensure she'd stay peacefully asleep for quite a while, and vanished into the fog.
Her sudden appearance — and then just as sudden retreat — threw the Mist shinobi into brief chaos.
Then, realization dawned, followed by relief.
Tsunade's presence alone had made their hearts race — after all, she was one of the Legendary Sannin.
If she'd stayed, this fight would have been suicide.
But now, she was gone.
Only one Uchiha boy remained, likely acting as a rear guard, buying time for her escape.
How tragic, they thought.
And how fortunate — for them.
If they could kill this Uchiha and then catch Tsunade on the run, maybe, just maybe, they'd carve their names into history.
"If we kill one of the Sannin, that's a legend right there!"
Fueled by naïve excitement, the Mist shinobi surged forward.
Terumi Mei, however, wasn't smiling.
"Be careful!" she shouted.
"That man—he's dangerous! Treat him as a Kage-level threat!"
Her warning made a few hearts skip a beat—
but it came too late.
Even as the words left her lips, screams began echoing from the mist.
Sharp, violent, overlapping.
"Where is he?!"
"I can't see him!"
"Flying Thunder God—did he just use the Flying Thunder God?!"
"No—it's not—ahhhhhh!"
It wasn't Flying Thunder God.
It was simply speed.
Pure, monstrous, impossible speed.
Uchiha Yujiro, whose body flicker technique rivaled Shisui the Teleporter, had maxed his speed to the level of a demon.
And though he lacked Minato's teleportation seals, his offensive power was far beyond anything the Fourth Hokage could muster.
Thirty-two kunai, each crackling with lightning, orbiting around him like a halo of death — a walking, living sword formation.
Where Minato specialized in pinpoint assassination, Yujiro was a mass extinction event.
Once battle began, everything within an eighty-meter radius simply… ceased to exist.
It was as though thirty-two masters of taijutsu were attacking simultaneously from every angle, every direction, every instant.
The Mist shinobi didn't stand a chance.
Even the veteran swordsmen — the ones just shy of joining the Seven Ninja Swordsmen —
were cut down instantly, bisected by a single move:
Monster Strength: Fivefold Lightning-Flame Blade.
Speed, power, precision — Yujiro surpassed them in every domain.
They didn't even have time to scream properly before they died.
"Don't engage in close combat!" Mei screamed.
"Pull back! Use ranged attacks! Use sealing jutsu—don't let him move!"
Her voice trembled as she shouted.
In less than a minute, half of her elite strike force had been slaughtered.
If this continued—
they'd all die here.
Yujiro: "Good tactics…" he smirked, lightning dancing across his armor
"But you're too slow."
And she was.
Before her orders could even reach the far end of her formation, Yujiro had already carved through it.
By the time she turned, half her remaining troops were already dead.
The swamp was silent except for the hum of electricity and the hiss of evaporating blood.
Bodies lay scattered, their faces frozen in fear.
Only a handful remained — the strongest, the luckiest, the most terrified — stumbling back to cluster near Mei.
And then, she showed why she would one day become the Fifth Mizukage.
In that desperate instant, Terumi Mei pushed herself past her limit, forming seals so fast her hands blurred.
"Boil Release—Skillful Mist Technique!"
The air hissed as acid vapor filled the field.
Water and fire chakra fused into a deadly, corrosive fog that melted everything it touched.
The surrounding area transformed into a burning, toxic wasteland — a no-man's-land even for shinobi.
Yujiro paused outside the deadly haze, raising an eyebrow in appreciation.
"Heh… impressive."
"No wonder you're strong enough to wound a Susanoo someday."
Even his lightning armor wouldn't last long against that level of acid.
He stopped, watching the acid mist roil and boil.
His eyes glowed red through the vapor.
"You've earned my respect, Terumi Mei."
For a fleeting moment, Mei and her few surviving men actually felt relief.
They'd managed to halt the monster.
And then the reality hit them—
"We kicked an iron wall…"
Four jōnin captains.
A hundred elite shinobi.
All gone — in seconds.
They stared at Yujiro's faint silhouette through the haze —
his twin blades gleaming, his grin faintly unhinged —
and realized they hadn't met a man.
They'd met a calamity.
And now they faced a question with only one possible answer:
Would they keep fighting…
or try to survive the wrath of Uchiha Yujiro?
No one dared move.
No one wanted to face that monster again.
Every surviving Mist shinobi could feel it in their bones — that primal, animal sense of doom.
There was no victory to be had here, only death.
So, they tried the only option left.
"You win, alright?! Let's… let's call it even!"
A Mist ninja called out, voice trembling but forced into a brittle bravado.
"Yeah, that acid mist barrier—" another stammered, "you can't cross it, can you? So why don't we both… just walk away, huh?"
Their desperate words were met with only a quiet, cold chuckle.
"Heh."
That was all Uchiha Yujiro said.
And somehow, that sound was far more terrifying than any roar or jutsu.
Terumi Mei took over next, trying to sound composed — trying to stall.
"You'd better think carefully."
"We've already sent a pursuit unit after your comrades."
"If you don't go help them right now, your Tsunade and that Scorch ninja will both be dead before you get there."
It was a bluff, of course.
The Mist had deployed everything they had — four jōnin captains and over a hundred elite operatives.
It should've been overkill.
But who could have imagined that the entire force would be slaughtered in less than three minutes?
Kirigakure wasn't rich; even the Fourth Mizukage, Yagura, was so broke he might as well have been selling fishing hooks to pay the bills.
There was no second wave.
Yujiro smiled faintly, lightning flickering along his jawline.
"Cute."
"But you should save that pretty head of yours for something useful…"
He raised his blades, electricity dancing along their twin edges.
"Like figuring out how to survive my next strike."
"He's coming!" Mei shouted. "Form up! Defensive line—now!"
The Mist reacted instantly.
Hand seals flashed in unison, chakra flooding the battlefield.
"Water Release: Water Dragon Bullet Jutsu!"
"Water Release: Water Dragon Bullet Jutsu!!"
"Water Release: Water Dragon Bullet Jutsu!!!"
Eight colossal dragons of churning water burst from the acid mist, roaring as they tore across the swamp.
Fangs bared, claws slashing, they crashed forward like a tidal apocalypse.
If they couldn't see him, they'd drown him.
If they couldn't catch him, they'd crush the entire field.
That was the Mist's answer.
A wall of water, a sea of death.
For a moment, it looked like a sound plan.
And then Mei's instincts screamed.
"Wait—STOP!"
Too late.
The eight dragons froze mid-charge,
and then —
split apart.
With a single thunderclap, arcs of lightning tore through their bodies, shredding them like paper.
The air filled with the blinding glow of thunder meeting water,
and then came the screams.
The Chidori Kunai — dozens of them, guided by chakra threads and killing intent.
They sliced through jutsu, through flesh, through everything.
When the light faded,
the last of the Mist elite lay motionless.
Only Terumi Mei remained.
Her breath came in short gasps.
Her skin prickled with cold.
Every heartbeat thundered in her ears like a countdown.
For the first time in her life, the future Mizukage felt what true death felt like —
and it was standing right behind her.
Left?
Right?
Where was he?
Her instincts screamed louder than thought.
She spun—
And the wind itself seemed to whisper before it hit her.
A single step.
A single strike.
When Yujiro's boot touched the ground, Mei's knees gave out.
She managed a faint exhale, a small sigh — not of pain, but almost of relief.
Then her vision went dark.
She collapsed like a falling blossom.
Unconscious.
[Mission Complete — Reward Granted: +1 Free Attribute Point]
And just like that, it was over.
Uchiha Yujiro stood victorious.
Every last Mist ninja — from captain to recruit — lay dead at his feet.
Not a single survivor.
The swamp was silent save for the crackle of residual lightning and the quiet hiss of acid vapor.
The ground was littered with corpses.
And in the center of it all — a crimson-eyed devil stood laughing under the dying storm.
Yujiro tilted his head back, pressing a hand to his forehead as his laughter built and broke loose.
"Heh… heh-heh-heh… hahaha… HAHAAHAHAHAHA!"
His voice echoed across the battlefield — sharp, manic, and glorious.
It was the laugh of a man who had become everything the ninja world feared most.
A laughing god in human flesh.
A true Uchiha.