Makoto's rockin' Lightning Chakra Mode right now; straight-up brute force crushin' everything.
Strong enough body, freak-level regen? Do whatever the hell you want. If the Fourth Raikage; who grinded decades for his juice; saw this? Dude'd be cryin' in the stall.
"Bastard!"
Mist rogue ninja fought the full-body paralysis and burn; eyes flashin' terror, despair, then straight psycho. He misread bad; this wasn't fat sheep; wolf in sheep's clothing on steroids!
Bloody Mist survivor knew beggin' was pointless. Fight or die.
He ripped his hand off the kunai; almost fused to his palm; stomped snow, blasted backward ugly-style to buy space.
Makoto didn't chase. Arms crossed, smirkin' like a boss watchin' the show.
Rogue's hands blurred seals like a butterfly on crack. Chest ballooned; Fire chakra flooded his throat!
"Fire Style: Head Hardship!"
Massive red-hot fireball ERUPTED; suckin' air, meltin' snow into steam clouds, roarin' straight at Makoto like hell's wreckin' ball!
Bottom-of-the-barrel nuke; bettin' on one-shot KO or maim.
Haku stepped up; Makoto's hand shot out; stay.
Makoto's eyes locked. Inhaled the scorch. No dodge.
BOOM!
Lightning chakra EXPLODED inside; brighter, wilder than ever. Crackles like a thousand Chidori screamin'.
Blue thunder wove a jagged, unstable Lightning Armor; raw power barely contained.
Next tick; he moved.
Turned into a sky-rippin' blue bolt; charged the fireball head-on. Hardest, wildest frontal smash.
Rogue's eyes bugged as blue thunder SLAMMED red flame; deafenin' apocalypse roar.
Thunder and fire tangled; annihilated; exploded. Blinding light.
Thunder shredded fire like paper. Sparks rained like deadly fireworks; pittin' snow with scorch holes.
Makoto burst through the fireball core; faster than before. Pure blue lightning streak; beyond rogue's eyes or reflexes.
Rogue saw a blur; heat wave slapped his face. Thunder-god figure one meter away; ozone stink and death vibe.
"BOOM—!!!"
"Lightning Style: Heavy Current Surge!"
Makoto compressed berserk lightning into his elbow; blue-white bolt whinin' like a jet.
No fancy crap; elbow strike with mountain-crushin' force.
"PFFT!!"
Absolute speed + power = zero defense. Rogue didn't even think block.
Chest CAVED; bones shattered like glass. Crack-crack-crack.
"BLEGH!"
Blood sprayed mid-air; red arc with organ bits. Body ragdolled dozens of feet; skippin' snow like a stone before stoppin'.
Snow under him melted red-brown; steamin'.
Rogue twitched; tried crawlin'. In too much, out too little. One breath from the afterlife.
Fight? Blink and done.
Keep grindin' like this; Flying Thunder God + Lightning Mode? Even if Fourth Hokage Minato came back; "God of Speed" title's gettin' snatched.
Snow howled; couldn't touch the kid standin' tall; thunder fadin', smoke curlin' like a halo.
Haku finally snapped outta shock; pupils wide with awe… and a sneaky worship glint.
He jogged up; pulled a clean white hanky; both hands, respectful.
Makoto took it; wiped blood and snow off his elbow casual; like swattin' a fly.
Cloud calls it "Heavy Current Surge"; Makoto prefers "Otsutsuki Elbow Strike". Simple. Direct. Lethal.
Just need that Otsutsuki upgrade.
Glanced at the dyin' rogue; then Haku; still tense. Tone flat but iron:
"Haku. Finish him."
Haku's body micro-shivered.
He'd killed once; terror-fueled Ice Release meltdown; took out bullies and his dad. Nightmare fuel.
But Makoto's word? Zero hesitation.
Deep breath; bloody cold air. Crushed fear and nausea. Eyes steel.
He's Makoto's weapon. Gave him life, purpose. Weapons don't feel; they obey.
Hand up. Chakra surged.
Air water molecules swarmed; temp plummeted. Massive ice spear; thicker than his thigh, razor tip; formed instant.
Eyes locked on the twitchin' rogue. Decisive swing.
"WHOOSH—!"
Ice spear PIERCED; dead-center heart.
"PLOP!"
Blood splashed; warm drops hit Haku's cheek.
Red. Sticky. Pupils shrank. Body locked; face pale. Gut churned; bit lip bloody to stay silent. Stood firm.
Watched life drain; eyes go dull.
Makoto saw it all. Nodded; satisfied glint.
Ice bloodline potential, mindset, obedience, moldability; top-tier goon material.
"Not bad," Makoto said casual.
Simple praise; Haku's face lit like sunrise. Smile pure; fear melted.
"Go loot him clean. Our spoils."
"Yes, Lord Makoto!"
Haku yelled; like screamin' out the dread.
Rushed over; fought nausea; pro-level corpse pat-down. Every pocket, seam, lining.
Senbon? Squeezed tight; kid loved those.
Soon: crumpled bills, coins, decent kunai, shuriken, senbon, explosion tags; piled on snow.