Chapter 32: A Harvest and a New Resolve
"Just kill me!" Uchiha Kagami rasped, resigning himself to his fate. Facing this monster in a child's body, a quick death was a mercy.
"Die so easily?" Shinra's voice was icy, his starry eyes devoid of any warmth. "I was hoping to use you to hone my combat skills. But you're useless. A disappointment. For you to die such a worthless death would be a pity."
His gaze was frigid, the brilliant stars within his Tenseigan seeming to burn with cold fire.
"The Uchiha are famed for your genjutsu and Fire Style. Now, experience an illusion of my own creation. Genjutsu: Hell Cycle of Terror!"
The world around Uchiha Kagami dissolved. He found himself in a twisted, alien space. All his injuries were gone, but so was his chakra, his strength. He was whole, but utterly powerless.
His face contorted in horror. He knew he was trapped in an illusion, but he couldn't sense the invading chakra, the tell-tale sign that could be disrupted to break free.
Is this a dojutsu-based genjutsu? he wondered, just as a presence materialized behind him.
A chill, colder than death, crawled up his spine. He spun around, his eyes widening. A grotesquely twisted, disembodied head floated before him, its features a mask of pure malice as it stared at him.
"Kekeke kekeke..."
"Ah! What is that?!" Kagami screamed, a man hardened by countless battles completely unnerved by the unnatural horror before him.
"That was just the appetizer," the floating head hissed. "If you can't handle that, you'll never survive. The true Hell Cycle is only beginning."
The scenery shifted again. Every horror film Shinra had ever seen in his past life began to play out around Kagami, one after another. He was forced to live through each scenario, dying a gruesome, terrifying death at the end of every one. Each "story" repeated ten times before shifting to the next, subjecting him to an endless loop of agony and fear.
Inside the illusion, eons seemed to pass. In the real world, only a single second had elapsed.
Watching Uchiha Kagami's Sharingan spin faster and faster, Shinra felt a flicker of anticipation.
He hadn't been seeking combat experience this time. His true goal was fixed on the Sharingan itself. He didn't covet the Tomoe; he was aiming for the Mangekyo. Whether this man had the talent to awaken it under such extreme psychological torture was up to fate. The fact that he was an Elite Jonin in his twenties suggested his potential was high.
For this very purpose, Shinra had dedicated five hundred Shadow Clones for six months, combining his unique insights to develop this specific S-rank genjutsu. The "Hell Cycle of Terror" was designed to target the psyche's deepest fears, forcibly pulling the victim's consciousness into a spiritual space for endless, horrific reincarnation. The only escape was to shatter the cycle by force. Otherwise, the victim's mind would be eternally trapped, perishing over and over again. It was a jutsu that, in Shinra's estimation, might even be second only to the Infinite Tsukuyomi and Kotoamatsukami in its psychological devastation.
Kagami's Sharingan spun into a blur, the three tomoe beginning to smear and connect. Finally, they fused. The pattern morphed, settling into the shape of a stylized, four-pointed windmill shuriken, vaguely similar to the Mangekyo of Uchiha Shisui.
He had succeeded. He had forced a Mangekyo awakening through sheer terror.
Yet, even with his new eyes, Uchiha Kagami remained trapped within the hellish illusion.
A faint, satisfied smile touched Shinra's lips. He reached out, his movements swift and precise, and plucked the newly-formed Mangekyo Sharingan from Kagami's eye sockets without a hint of hesitation. He stored the precious eyes securely.
A moment later, intense flames erupted from within Kagami's body, consuming him from the inside out. He was burned to ashes without ever escaping the nightmare, dying a final death within the genjutsu.
This was Shinra's first kill, yet he felt no discomfort, no nausea. It felt no different from hunting game in the mountains. From the moment he arrived in this world, he had accepted its brutal reality. He had been mentally prepared to take a life from the very beginning. Gouging out eyes and reducing a man to cinders was just a necessary step on the path he walked.
Though the sequence of events felt long, barely fifteen minutes had passed in total.
"It's time to go. The Anbu will have sensed that disturbance. We can't stay."
"But before we leave, the scene needs to be cleaned up." He levitated slightly, his leg glowing. "Tempest Kick: Barrage."
His leg became a blur, launching hundreds of tiny, razor-sharp vacuum blades that shredded the surrounding earth and trees, obliterating any clear evidence of the fight.
His body then dissolved into light, and he reappeared beside Mikoto in an instant.
"It's done. Let's go," he said simply.
"Mhm." Mikoto nodded, not asking for details. However Shinra had resolved it, she would support him. That was her nature.
He took her hand with the one that wasn't stained, and focused. With a subtle spatial warp, they vanished, reappearing ten kilometers away near a small, babbling stream.
Shinra immediately went to the water's edge, scrubbing the faint traces of blood from his hands—the remnants of his grim harvest. As he washed, he took stock of his chakra. The teleportation with Mikoto had consumed over half of his reserves; moving another person through space was exponentially more draining than moving himself.
"Shinra, you're not hurt, are you?" Mikoto asked, her voice laced with concern as she approached.
"I'm fine. Don't worry," he reassured her with a soft smile.
Not entirely convinced, Mikoto walked right up to him. She looked him over carefully, her eyes searching, and then, almost without thinking, reached out and gently touched his arm and chest, as if to physically confirm he was unharmed. Only after a thorough inspection did she finally let out a sigh of relief.
It was then that she realized the intimacy of her actions. A deep blush spread across her cheeks, and she couldn't meet his eyes.
"I-I'm going to start preparing the food," she stammered, then turned and hurried away, her face burning.
"Oh, Mikoto," Shinra called after her, his tone casual. "Did that Uchiha, Kagami, have any relatives? A brother, perhaps?"
Mikoto turned back, looking puzzled. "Uchiha Kagami? No, he didn't. Both his parents are dead. Why do you ask, Shinra?"
"It's nothing," he said, shaking his head. "Just curious."
Internally, he felt a twinge of disappointment. If there had been a sibling, he might have considered the possibility of cultivating a pair of Eternal Mangekyo. But it seemed Kagami's bloodline ended here. His parents, whoever they were, hadn't been strong or fortunate enough to leave behind a legacy.
Oh well, he thought without a shred of guilt. He came to kill us. This was his own doing. Hyuga Shinra was under no illusions about his own morality. He was not a good man. He was a survivor, and he was perfectly willing to get his hands dirty.