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Chapter 181: Armed Mediation
"Who... who are you really?"
Hanzo's hand trembled as he gripped his fallen kusarigama. He roared, his voice thick with a bluffing bravado.
"Matsu is just an ordinary Chunin! I've seen his file! There is no way he could possess this kind of power!"
Just moments ago, this Chunin—originally responsible for guarding the outer perimeter—had suddenly burst into the top floor, a sanctuary reserved only for Hanzo's most trusted confidants. Hanzo had initially dismissed him as a suicidal assassin, preparing to crush him like an insect.
The result was a total reversal in a single exchange.
The Body Flicker Technique Hanzo took so much pride in had been predicted. A fist wrapped in an unknown energy had shattered his defenses, slamming both his pride and his body into the dirt.
That power was something the Chakra system simply couldn't explain.
"Who I am is not important," Dragon said, looking down at the pathetic Hanzo. His voice was as calm as a still lake. "But the fact that this country is better off without you... that is very important."
He raised his hand. Within his palm, azure Wind Nature chakra condensed violently, faintly taking the shape of a dragon's claw.
"Hanzo, you have sat in this seat for too long. So long that you've forgotten how to listen to the sound of the rain outside your window."
Hanzo's pupils shrank.
That sentence. That tone. And those eyes—even in a different body, they burned with a terrifying, familiar fire.
A memory from the recent past surged into his mind. Not long ago, in this very interrogation room, there had been a young man he had executed personally. Even as chains pierced the boy's collarbones, he had mocked Hanzo for shivering in the shadows.
"It's you!"
Hanzo let out a sharp, strangled shriek. As if seeing a ghost, he scrambled backward.
Fear. An unprecedented terror coiled around Hanzo's heart like a venomous snake.
A dead man returning? A soul inhabiting a new body? How could such an absurdity be possible?
"It is me, and yet it is not me."
Dragon took a step forward. His aura surged, and a gale erupted within the quiet room. The whistling wind sounded like the wailing of ten thousand tortured souls.
"We all share the same name."
Dragon's palm rose slowly. The surrounding air was compressed to the extreme, letting out a piercing shriek.
"It is time to atone for what you've done to this country."
"Stop!"
Hanzo screamed in a total breakdown. His survival instinct forced out the last of his chakra.
"Summoning Technique: Salamander!"
Poof!
A massive cloud of smoke erupted. However, before the giant, venomous salamander could even fully materialize, Dragon's figure vanished.
"Dragon Claw: Wind Cut."
A flash of azure light flickered through the dim room.
It was fast. So fast that even a ninja of Hanzo's caliber couldn't track the movement.
Slash.
Blood sprayed. The salamander, which had barely emerged, let out a miserable cry as its massive head was cleanly severed, crashing to the ground. The azure wind blade didn't lose its momentum, sweeping directly across Hanzo's neck.
Hanzo's roar stopped abruptly.
He stood frozen in place, his hands still locked in a hand seal. His clouded eyes bulged, staring fixedly at the man who had appeared behind him. A thin red line slowly surfaced on his throat.
Dragon turned his back to Hanzo and flicked the blood from his hand. Without looking back, he walked toward the shattered window. Outside, the storm raged.
"The killer is Akatsuki!"
Thud.
Hanzo's body collapsed straight down. His head rolled to the side, and the face that had once made the Three Great Nations tremble remained frozen in a mask of deathly terror.
A legendary demigod of the shinobi world had died silently on this rainy night.
Dragon stood by the window, letting the cold rain wash over his face. He looked down at the village, which resembled a labyrinth of steel and pipes. Through his Observation Haki, he sensed countless weak auras struggling to survive through this endless rainy season.
"It's over," Dragon whispered to himself.
But it was also the beginning.
He turned and glanced at the corpse on the floor, a flash of determination in his eyes. Since this dungeon had given him a chance to start over, he would use these hands to validate the path he hadn't finished in the real world.
Overthrow the old order. Build a new world.
Whether in the world of One Piece or this blood-soaked world of ninjas, once the flame of revolution was lit, it would never be extinguished.
.....
At the top level of the Amegakure tower, the wind howled through the broken floor-to-ceiling windows, swirling debris and wood chips across the floor. Rapid footsteps echoed from the stairwell—the distinct splashing sound of feet hitting puddles. They were urgent, frantic, yet carried a certain desperate resolve.
Bang!
The heavy door was forced open. Three figures wearing black cloaks with red clouds burst inside.
The orange-haired youth in the lead gripped a kunai tightly, chakra dancing at his fingertips. He was clearly prepared for a fight to the death. But the moment he saw the scene inside, he froze.
Yahiko's eyes widened. His gaze swept over the carnage and finally settled on the decapitated corpse.
The name that had once weighed like a mountain on the hearts of every Amegakure ninja, a name that made him feel suffocated—Hanzo of the Salamander.
Right now, he was lying in the mud like a dead dog.
"This..."
Yahiko opened his mouth, but his throat was too dry to make a sound.
Behind him, Konan covered her mouth, her eyes instantly turning red. Nagato's Rinnegan, partially hidden by his long hair, trembled slightly as he stared in shock at the stranger sitting in the high seat.
Dragon casually tossed aside the broken kusarigama. The metal hit the floor with a sharp clang.
"You've arrived?"
His tone was flat, like an old friend giving a casual greeting at a reunion.
Yahiko snapped out of it, staring warily at Dragon without lowering his kunai.
"Who are you? Brother Matsu?"
Yahiko recognized the face. Matsu was an obscure Chunin from Amegakure, usually quiet and introverted. He had gone missing during the previous purge.
But the gaze of the man before him was not something that timid Chunin could ever possess. That deep, calm look that seemed to pierce through the human heart reminded him of someone else. A dear friend who had died in this very tower not long ago.
"I am Matsu, and I am a comrade of Arashi."
Dragon stood up, walked around Hanzo's corpse, and slowly approached the trio.
"Before Arashi went to his death, he passed the torch to me."
At the mention of the name "Arashi," Konan could no longer hold back. Tears streamed down her face.
Yahiko's body shuddered. The kunai in his hand fell to the floor with a clatter.
"Brother Arashi... he did it to protect us..."
Yahiko clenched his fists so hard his nails dug into his palms. The scene from that day replayed in his mind like a nightmare. Arashi, his body pierced by chains, hanging from the high tower, using his life to give a final roar against this corrupt world.
"He didn't die in vain," Dragon said. His voice wasn't loud, but it had a strange, penetrating power.
"Hanzo is dead. The old order has collapsed. But if all you know how to do is stand here and cry, then the blood Arashi shed truly was in vain."
The words struck the three like a whip. Yahiko snapped his head up, haphazardly wiping the rain from his face.
"Brother Matsu... no, Senior." Yahiko took a deep breath, his eyes regaining their resolve. "What should we do?"
"Akatsuki's original goal was to bring peace, but Hanzo destroyed everything. Now that Amegakure is leaderless, the Great Nations will definitely seize the opportunity to intervene."
Dragon gave Yahiko an appreciative look. He was a natural leader; even under immense shock, he could quickly analyze the situation.
"Peace?"
Dragon walked to the broken window, letting the wind toss his hair.
"By struggle, peace is preserved; by compromise, peace is lost."
"The war between the Five Great Nations has lasted too long. Notify the whole country. Starting today, Amegakure is making its move. Armed Mediation!"
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