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Chapter 158: Hanzo Interrogates Dragon
"Yahiko... Konan..."
Nagato's voice was as thin as a mosquito's, carrying heavy fear.
"Are we... really going to do nothing?"
Yahiko raised his head, looking at the bricks overhead that were constantly seeping water.
"Arashi said that Akatsuki is not an organization of one person, but a belief. If we rush out now and get wiped out by Hanzo, then the chance Arashi bought with his life will be wasted."
He gritted his teeth, blood seeping from his gums.
"We are too weak... too weak to even qualify to protect our comrades."
"We have to live. Live on for Arashi's share too. Live, become stronger. Strong enough to make this country shut up, strong enough to make that old thing Hanzo kneel before us and repent!"
Konan leaned against the cold wall and slid down to sit on the ground. She buried her face in her knees, her suppressed sobbing echoing in the empty pipe.
The rain was still falling.
...
The center of Amegakure, the highest steel tower.
This was Hanzo's residence and the center of power for the entire Land of Rain.
In contrast, at the very bottom of the tower, was the interrogation room.
There were no whips or branding irons as imagined; it was even quite clean. There was only a chair, a blinding spotlight, and an omnipresent, suffocating oppression.
Dragon (disguised as Arashi) was tied to the chair.
Special sealing chains wrapped around his limbs, not only restricting his movement but also cutting off the flow of Chakra in his body. His clothes were tattered—traces of being blasted by Explosive Tags. The blood had dried, sticking the fabric to his skin.
But he sat very straight.
Even as a prisoner, even covered in wounds, his spine remained perfectly straight, like a spear that could not be broken.
In the darkness, came the sound of heavy breathing.
It was breathing filtered through a gas mask, carrying a creeping metallic texture.
Clack, clack, clack.
The footsteps stopped just outside the circle of light.
"I am very curious."
An aged and hoarse voice rang out, carrying the arrogance and indifference unique to those in high positions.
"The person who played my patrol teams like fiddles, planned three granary riots, and even built a resistance organization right under my nose..."
A tall figure slowly stepped into the light.
He wore his signature breathing apparatus. His bare upper body was covered in scars—medals left from countless wars. His eyes were turbid yet sharp, like a venomous snake coiled in the depths of a swamp.
Hanzo of the Salamander.
"Turns out to be just a brat in his teens."
Hanzo looked down at Dragon from above, a trace of disappointment flashing in his eyes, but mostly scrutiny.
The heat from the spotlight roasted the skin, forming a nauseating contrast with the damp, cold air around them.
Dragon sat in the chair. His wrists were abraded by the iron chains, blood dripping from his fingertips.
Drip.
Drip.
The sound was infinitely amplified in the dead silent room.
Hanzo stood at the edge of the light circle. The gas mask covered most of his face, revealing only a pair of cloudy but still sharp eyes. He didn't rush to torture; he just stared at Dragon with the look one gives a dead object.
"I don't like wasting time."
Hanzo spoke. His voice, filtered by the mask, sounded muffled and distorted, like speaking inside an iron bucket.
He walked up to Dragon, his fingers clad in black leather gloves pinching Dragon's chin, forcing him to look up.
"Your father is also a Rain Ninja. He is fighting enemies on the front lines right now, bleeding and risking his life to protect this village. And you, as his son, are causing destruction in the rear, burning granaries, killing guards."
"Tell me, brat, who put you up to this? Was it Danzo of Konoha? Or Onoki of Iwagakure? As long as you speak, I can give you a quick death, or even transfer your father back from the front lines."
The temperature of the spotlight was very high, making the skin feel tight.
In contrast, the cold air in the interrogation room was almost solid.
Hanzo released his grip on Dragon's chin and wiped his hand on a handkerchief with disgust, as if he had touched something dirty.
"Not talking?"
Hanzo clasped his hands behind his back, pacing in the shadows outside the light circle.
"I can guess even if you don't say it. This kind of organization, discipline, and even the means to turn my subordinates—it's definitely not something a greenhorn like you could come up with."
His voice echoed in the empty room, filled with certainty.
"It's Konoha's 'Root', isn't it? That old fellow Danzo Shimura loves this kind of gutter business the most."
Dragon did not answer.
He just moved his neck with difficulty, the chains making a crisp rattling sound.
He looked up, those black eyes looking directly at Hanzo in the shadows.
No fear, no begging for mercy.
There was only a heart-palpitating calmness.
"Hanzo."
Dragon spoke.
His voice was hoarse, but it reached Hanzo's ears clearly.
"Why are you hiding in the dark?"
Hanzo's footsteps paused.
"What did you say?"
Dragon straightened his back with effort. Although this movement pulled at the wounds on his body, causing cold sweat to stream down from the pain, he still tried hard to look like he was negotiating, not being interrogated.
"This is your territory, the deepest part of Amegakure."
"In front of you is only a youth bound by chains, powerless to truss a chicken."
"Yet you still stand in the shadows, wearing a gas mask, fully armed."
The corner of Dragon's mouth twitched slightly, revealing a trace of mockery.
"What are you afraid of?"
Hanzo turned around, his cloudy eyes narrowing slightly as killing intent instantly permeated the air.
"Afraid? This old man has roamed the Ninja World for decades. Even the Sannin had to bow their heads before me. Would I be afraid of a wet-behind-the-ears brat like you?"
"Since you aren't afraid, why don't you dare to stand in the light?"
Dragon suddenly leaned his body forward, pulling the iron chains taut.
He was exposed under the blinding spotlight just like that, covered in blood and filth, yet looking like a gilded idol.
"I have chosen death, so I am open and candid."
"Although you are alive and hold great power, your heart is already old, already rotten."
"You are afraid this light will reveal the weakness and ugliness under your mask."
Bang!
An invisible wave of air exploded violently.
Hanzo's figure instantly appeared in front of Dragon, one hand firmly choking Dragon's neck.
The immense grip strength caused Dragon to suffocate instantly, his face turning red.
"Sharp-tongued brat."
Hanzo's voice was bitingly cold. "You want to provoke me? Begging for a quick death?"
Dragon breathed with difficulty, his hands grabbing Hanzo's wrists which were like iron clamps.
But he didn't struggle. Instead, he looked at Hanzo's eyes, which were close at hand, and smiled.
That smile was full of pity.
Hanzo was stung by this look.
He flung his hand violently, smashing Dragon, chair and all, hard against the wall.
Boom!
The wall cracked, and dust fell rustling down.
Dragon coughed up a large mouthful of fresh blood. The severe pain of broken ribs made his vision go black.
But he still forced himself to hold on, leaning against the corner of the wall, gasping for large breaths.
"Cough cough... Hanzo..."
"Have you read history?"
Dragon wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. His voice was weak, but still firm.
Hanzo looked at him coldly. "What do you want to say?"
"Natural selection, survival of the fittest."
Dragon raised his head, his gaze piercing through the walls of the interrogation room, as if seeing the world outside.
"Look at the Five Great Nations of today."
"The Land of Fire is abundant, the Land of Earth is resilient, the Land of Lightning is tough."
"Which powerful nation was not built amidst the blood and fire of revolution?"
"Which Ninja Village standing at the peak achieved peace by kowtowing to others?"
Dragon's voice suddenly rose in pitch, carrying a fury that questioned the heavens.
"What about the Land of Rain?"
"Surviving in the cracks, constant war."
"Our people live like rats in the sewers, our children have to learn to dodge artillery fire as soon as they are born."
"How can such a country not have a revolution?!"
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