Chapter 1:
Chapter 1-Catastrophy Arc
Holy Blaze
Year: 1867
Time: 1:45 PM
The air was tense.
In the center of a small village, a man kneeled in the dirt. His hands were bound behind his back, a sheet of paper tied to his face with a thin rope. He had been found guilty of rape and murder. His head hung low, trembling slightly as the crowd watched in silence.
Before him stood a young executioner, blade in hand. The sun glared off the steel as he raised it above his head.
With one clean swing—
Shkk!
The man’s head was severed in a single strike. His body slumped forward, blood soaking the earth.
A man walked over from the side and rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder.
???: “Now that’s what I like to see. Clean, precise—just what I’d expect from the Danzai-in.”
Executioner: “Thank you, sir. The sentence was carried out swiftly. I must return to my people.”
???: “Ah, come on, Renji. Loosen up a little—you’ll miss the—”
Renji: “I cannot participate in whatever you’re hosting. Farewell.”
Renji sheathed his blade and turned away, leaving the murmuring crowd behind.
On the outskirts of the village, a black carriage waited for him.
Renji: “Mr. Hanma.”
Hanma: “You look pale. How did it go?”
Renji: “Just as planned, sir.”
Hanma: “Good. We wouldn’t want to stain the Danzai’s reputation, now would we? Hop in—the journey ahead is long.”
Renji: “Yes, sir.”
The carriage rumbled down the dirt road, cutting through the wide lands of Kyoto. Hours passed until they reached a large walled city—home of the Danzai-in, the world’s most elite executioners.
At its center stood a towering hall surrounded by flowing banners bearing the Danzai crest.
Hanma: “We’ve arrived, Renji.”
They stepped out of the carriage. As Hanma waved, the guards atop the gate recognized his signal and opened the massive doors.
Inside, the courtyard bustled with swordsmen, each dressed in the green and white uniforms of the Danzai.
Renji: “Did the chairman order you to pick me up?”
Hanma: “He did. He knew you’d get the job done, but didn’t want you walking all the way back alone.”
Renji: “I see... Sorry for troubling you.”
Hanma: “Not at all. You’re one of our best—well, if we ignore the Sarutobi clan.”
Renji: “The Sarutobi have always been elite swordsmen. I wouldn’t compare myself to them.”
Hanma: “Don’t let them overshadow you. You’re extraordinary too. Now go on, file your report to the chairman. I’ll be waiting.”
Hanma turned and walked off toward his quarters. Renji headed straight for the main building. He stopped before a large sliding door and knocked.
Renji: “Chairman Yagami, it’s me—Renji.”
An apprentice opened the door, bowing respectfully as Renji entered.
Inside, Chairman Yagami lay in his bed, frail and coughing softly. A damp towel rested on his forehead as faint light from the window brushed across his aging face.
Yagami: “Young Renji... you’ve come back safely. I’m glad.”
Renji: “There’s no need to thank me, sir. It was a simple task—child’s play for anyone in the Danzai-in.”
Yagami: “Perhaps... but even simple deeds deserve acknowledgment.”
Renji: “Then I’m grateful. Tell me, sir—how’s the Sarutobi clan faring? Any casualties?”
Yagami: “None. It’s as if they were born for this. Even her...”
Renji: “Wait—you mean Shoko passed the executioner’s test?!”
Yagami: “Yes. She’s been assigned to end the life of Shinomi Fukushima.”
Renji: “That’s madness! She’s only sixteen—and he’s a murderer who killed five men before his capture!”
Yagami: “I understand your concern, Renji. But you must have faith. She is a Sarutobi, after all.”
Scene Change
The underground cellars of the Danzai-in were damp and quiet, lit only by flickering torches. Shoko Sarutobi walked through the narrow corridor, two attendants following behind her, each carrying a light. A sword hung at her waist, its handle wrapped in crimson cloth.
Attendant 1: “Lady Shoko, are you sure about this? As a wom—”
Shoko: “I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be fine.”
They reached a massive cell—large enough to hold a bear. Inside, a young man sat chained to the wall. His black hair brushed his neck, his chest bare, his eyes dull and yellow like a beast’s.
As Shoko stepped closer, he suddenly jerked forward—
CLANK!
The sound of chains echoed through the dungeon. Shoko flinched slightly, a bead of sweat tracing down her cheek.
Shoko: “Shinomi Fukushima. I’m here to ask you a few questions.”
Shinomi: lifting his head slowly “I have no problem with that.”
Shoko opened the cell door and stepped inside, notebook in hand. The attendants remained outside.
Shoko: “My first question... You were sentenced to death three times, yet all three failed. What exactly happened each time?”
Shinomi: “Hmph. If you really want to know... The first time, the sword snapped when it hit my neck. The second, they tried burning me alive—just burned my shirt off. The third was seppuku, but every blade they used shattered before it could pierce me.”
Shoko: “That’s... abnormal. Do you possess some sort of ability?”
Shinomi: “Throughout all of it, I never even needed to use my cursed ability.”
Shoko: “You can use a cursed ability? Mind demonstrating it?”
Shinomi: “Why?”
Shoko: “Just out of personal interest.”
Shinomi: “Then... no.”
Shoko closed her notebook, expression calm. She turned to leave.
Shoko: “Until we meet again, Shinomi.”
Her footsteps echoed softly as the door shut behind her.
Characters Introduced
Renji Takemichi
Age: 19 Height: 179 cm Appearance: Short black hair, moon-shaped earring, Danzai-in uniform — white and dark green haori with a sprouting tree crest, wide white pants.
Hanma Fushimoto
Age: 32 Height: 182 cm Appearance: Small beard, slicked-back black hair, Danzai uniform.
Yagami Thoumox
Age: 67 Height: 162 cm Appearance: Balding, wrinkled face, frail.
Shoko Sarutobi
Age: 16 Height: 188 cm Appearance: Long black hair, kimono-style Danzai uniform.
Shinomi Fukushima
Age: 16 Height: 160 cm Appearance: Black neck-length hair, barefoot, baggy pants, chained.
Chapter 2 — Long Life Dream
Year: 1867
Time: 3:50 PM
Scene I — The General’s Carriage
The creak of wheels echoed along the dirt road, each turn stirring up clouds of dust beneath the blazing afternoon sun. The shogunate’s banner fluttered at the back of the dark lacquered carriage, the golden emblem of the Danzai-In glinting in the light.
Inside, General Draken Muramasa, ruler of the known world, leaned lazily against the velvet seat. A checkerboard lay between him and the driver’s assistant, half-played and forgotten.
Draken sighed, running a gloved hand through his long, unkempt hair.
“Man… this trip feels endless.” His tone carried the weight of both boredom and command. “We’ve been through three villages already. The least this road could offer me is a decent view.”
Up front, the driver straightened his posture, eyes never leaving the winding trail.
“Mr. Draken, we are arriving at the Danzai-In headquarters shortly.”
Draken cracked a faint smirk. “Finally. I was starting to think I’d grow old before we made it.”
The driver chuckled nervously. “Apologies for the long drive, sir, but we have arrived at the main gate.”
The carriage rolled to a halt. Before them stood the massive Danzai-In Gate, a towering wooden structure reinforced with black iron and lined with guards. Two of them hurried forward, dropping to one knee as the great doors opened.
Guard 1: “Greetings, Great General Draken! The chairman has been informed of your arrival. It is an honor to have you here!”
Draken said nothing. He merely brushed aside the curtain and gazed out — his eyes sharp, golden, and unblinking. He gave a simple nod, and the carriage proceeded through the gates.
The Danzai-In compound stretched like a fortress — courtyards filled with disciplined swordsmen training in silence, banners flapping in the dry wind, the smell of incense drifting through the air.
Draken stepped out once they reached the head building, his heavy boots landing with a thud on the stone walkway.
Draken: “Yagami... you in there?”
The door slid open with a long creak. One of the chairman’s subordinates bowed low, gesturing for him to enter.
Inside, Chairman Yagami Thoumox was being helped to his seat by two attendants. His frail body trembled, each breath shallow, but his eyes — sharp and calculating — still burned with the same authority that had ruled decades past.
Yagami: “What a pleasant surprise, General Draken. You wouldn’t have come all this way without reason, would you?”
Draken’s expression hardened. He took a seat across from Yagami, folding his arms.
“You’re more perceptive than you look, old man. Yes, I’m here for something.”
Yagami: “Then speak. What is it that you seek?”
Draken: “The mystical fruit... the God’s Tears. The one said to grant immortality.”
Yagami’s smile faded instantly. Silence lingered, heavy and uneasy.
Yagami: “Immortality? You can’t be serious. That’s a legend, Draken — a fool’s tale whispered by desperate men. Why pursue such nonsense?”
Draken’s gaze darkened. “Because it’s no legend.”
He leaned forward, voice low and cold.
“Just days ago, I sent scouts to the island of Awaji. When they returned... they weren’t the same. Their bodies — lifeless, yet moving. Roots sprouting from their mouths, their skin turned to bark. They died and still came back.”
Yagami froze. The faint crackle of the oil lamp filled the silence between them.
Yagami: “That’s... monstrous. But tell me — why? Why would you seek immortality when you already rule all that breathes?”
Draken’s eyes narrowed, glowing faintly in the dim light.
“Because this world will collapse without me. I’ve seen it — the greed, the rebellion, the rot spreading through every nation. I’m the only one who can keep it from falling apart. If the gods themselves won’t preserve this world... then I will.”
For a long moment, Yagami simply looked at him — pity flickering in his gaze. Then, with a weary sigh, he turned to one of his aides.
Yagami: “Amidamaru... summon the Sarutobi Clan.”
Amidamaru: “At once, sir!”
As the aide dashed from the room, Draken’s lips curved into a faint, satisfied smile.
Scene II — Blades of Resolve
A week later.
The air in the Danzai-In training grounds was thick with the smell of sweat and steel.
Beneath the afternoon sun, Shoko Sarutobi swung her blade again and again, her movements sharp, disciplined, unyielding. Each strike echoed against the wooden posts around her, sending faint vibrations through the courtyard.
From the shadows, Renji Takemichi stepped forward, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
Renji: “You know... you don’t have to live like this, Shoko. You could’ve chosen peace. A quiet life, comfort, maybe even a family.”
Shoko stopped mid-swing, the blade trembling slightly in her hand. She turned, her dark hair sticking to her face from sweat.
Shoko: “Because that’s not the life I want, Renji. Living fancy, smiling at suitors, producing children... that’s not my path.”
Her grip tightened. Memories flickered in her mind — laughter behind her back, the sneers of children calling her a mistake, the loneliness that wrapped her like winter fog.
She swung again, her movements growing sharper, faster — as if cutting down ghosts of her past.
Renji watched silently. For a moment, pity flashed across his eyes.
“Really... this is the path you choose?”
He sighed, stepping closer. “Then there’s nothing more I can say. Just... don’t die.”
Shoko blinked, surprised by the faint warmth in his voice. But before she could answer, Renji had already turned away.
Shoko: “I promise... I’ll cut down any foe that stands in my way.”
Her eyes met her reflection in the polished steel of her blade — and for a heartbeat, she saw Shinomi Fukushima’s shadow staring back at her.
Scene III — The Monster’s Flame
Night descended.
The underground corridors of the Danzai-In were damp and silent. Guards moved cautiously through the flickering torchlight, their armor clinking softly with every step.
They stopped at a heavy iron door. Inside, Shinomi Fukushima sat chained, his head bowed, eyes half-open.
Guard 1: “Wake up, freak. This time, you’re gonna die.”
Shinomi raised his head slowly, his yellow eyes glinting in the firelight.
Shinomi: “Another execution, huh? You people never learn.”
The guards unshackled his neck and pulled him to his feet. His hands remained bound.
Guard 2: “Oh, this one’s different. You’ll see.”
They dragged him down the corridor and into a torch-lit chamber. In the center stood Shoko Sarutobi, kneeling in silence. She rose as they entered, her hand resting on her sword.
Shoko: “Shinomi Fukushima... prepare yourself. I, a swordsman of the Sarutobi Clan, will deliver your final judgment.”
For the first time, Shinomi’s expression faltered. His heartbeat quickened.
(What is this feeling... fear?)
Shoko exhaled, lowering her stance. Then, in an instant — she moved.
The world blurred. The torches flickered and went dark for a single breath. A faint whoosh filled the air as her blade cut through space itself.
Shinomi’s body reacted before his mind could. He leapt backward, twisting midair — his body almost dancing along the ceiling, blood trickling faintly from a thin line across his neck.
Landing silently, he glared down at her.
Shoko: “Why dodge? I thought you wished to die. Had you stayed still, it would’ve been over.”
Shinomi’s breath trembled. She’s right... I do want to die. Then why did I move?
Shoko’s eyes softened. “You’re lying to yourself, Shinomi. You say you’re a monster, but deep down, you crave peace. You want to know what normal feels like. You want... to live.”
Shinomi’s jaw tightened. His body moved before thought — snatching a guard’s blade in a blur.
Shinomi: “You’re wrong!”
The chamber exploded in sparks as their blades collided. The impact sent waves of heat through the room, the air trembling with their strikes.
Shinomi swung for her throat — Shoko parried, sparks lighting her face.
Again. And again.
Each clash left an afterimage of them both — two shadows locked in a deadly dance.
Shinomi: “I’m nothing but a killer! I can’t be normal!”
He struck hard, knocking her off balance. His blade rose for the final blow—
Shoko: “But you can be normal!”
She whipped out a scroll, unfurling it before his face.
Shinomi: “What—what is this?”
Shoko: “An official pardon. You’re free... if you retrieve the God’s Tears from the island of Awaji for the General, Draken Muramasa.”
The sword slipped from Shinomi’s hand, clattering to the floor. He stared, bewildered, as the reality sank in.
A chance... to live?
Around them, the guards stiffened.
Guard 5: “No! He’s a murderer! None of us are leaving this room alive!”
Ten blades unsheathed in unison.
Shoko raised her sword — but Shinomi stepped in front of her, head lowered, shadows hiding his eyes.
Shinomi: “Hey... you said you wanted to see what my cursed power could do, right?”
Shoko’s breath caught.
A faint red glow began to spread across Shinomi’s skin. His body flickered with heat, then —
FWOOSH!
Flames engulfed him.
Shinomi: “Sacred Arts: Flamebane Tornado Storm.”
He blurred forward, faster than sight. The guards didn’t even scream until it was too late — fire erupted in trails behind him, wrapping each man in a wave of burning light.
When it ended, ten bodies stood motionless — blackened silhouettes, flames licking their armor.
Shinomi crouched low, steam rising from his skin, his chest heaving.
Shoko stared — half horrified, half awed.
Shoko: “Impressive...”
Shinomi: “God’s Tears, huh?... Fine. I’ll find it for you.”
Shoko: “Then we leave for the Capital at dawn. You’re not the only one chosen for this mission.”
Shinomi smirked faintly, brushing ash from his arm.
Shinomi: “Figures there’d be more freaks like me... oh well.”
He started walking down the tunnel, the firelight fading behind him. Shoko followed, her eyes fixed on the man whose destiny had just begun to change.
Characters Introduced
Draken Muramasa
Height: 180 cm Appearance: Long black hair, rough beard, sharp yellow eyes. Clothing: Black overalls with golden insignia. Role: General of the World.
Chapter 3 — The Journey to Death
Year: 1867
Time: 4:50 PM
Scene I — The Shore of Judgment
The wind howled against the edge of the island, carrying the sting of salt and decay. Gulls circled above the shoreline, their cries drowned beneath the low murmur of chained men.
Rows upon rows of criminals sat in the sand — wrists bound behind their backs, legs shackled, faces carved with hopelessness. Some stared into the sea as if its endless blue could offer them an escape. Others simply bowed their heads, too beaten to care.
The only sound was the crash of the waves and the distant creak of wooden scaffolds. Before them stood a raised podium, and behind it — a regiment of Sarutobi Clan executioners. Their polished blades gleamed like fragments of sunlight, cold and sharp.
The air was heavy — thick with tension and the scent of fear.
Then came the footsteps.
A slow, deliberate rhythm that silenced even the gulls. The crowd turned their heads toward the podium as a man climbed the steps, his black coat billowing behind him.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, the kind of presence that made men stop breathing when he entered a room.
General Draken Muramasa (Age 56) — the man who ruled the world through will alone.
He stopped at the top of the platform and surveyed the crowd with eyes that could pierce through the soul. When he spoke, his voice was thunder — calm, but absolute.
Draken: “Greetings… criminals. You all know why you’re here.”
His tone was cold, yet it carried a strange weight — like a judge delivering both sentence and salvation.
Draken: “We stand at the capital island — a boat ride away from your destination: Awaji. Your mission is simple. Retrieve the fruit known as God’s Tears — the fruit that grants immortality.”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Disbelief, confusion, and faint hope blended into a storm of whispers.
Draken paused, watching them, a faint smirk curling his lips.
Draken: “Now, this is how it will wor—”
But he didn’t finish.
A man stood from the crowd, veins bulging in his neck.
Prisoner: “Hold up a damn second! How the hell are we supposed to trust that this God’s Tears thing even exists?! For all we know, this is your way of getting rid of us! Some twisted suicide mission!”
Voices erupted around him — angry, desperate, rising like fire catching dry grass.
Prisoner 2: “Yeah! He’s right! This could be a setup — a way to kill us all off!”
Draken’s expression didn’t change. He exhaled slowly, almost disappointed.
Then his lips parted into a humorless smile.
Draken: “Of course… you don’t have to participate.”
He straightened his coat, eyes narrowing with quiet menace.
Draken: “But there are consequences.”
A wave of uncertainty passed through the prisoners. Chains clinked. Breath quickened.
One man — young, brash, and foolish — puffed out his chest.
Prisoner: “Good! I’d rather face anything else than suicide!”
SHING!
A violet flash tore through the air.
A heartbeat later, the man’s head hit the sand with a soft thud.
The crowd froze — horrified. The purple-haired executioner who had struck barely flinched. He wiped the blade clean, sheathed it in a smooth motion, and stepped back into line.
Draken smiled faintly, eyes glinting.
Draken: “Let’s not forget — you’re all still criminals. So what’s it going to be?”
He raised his arms wide.
“Death now… or possible death later?”
No one answered. The only reply was the steady crash of waves against the shore.
Scene II — Monsters Among Men
A few feet away, a young man sat cross-legged in the sand. His chains rattled softly as he lazily drew shapes in the dirt with one finger.
Shinomi Fukushima.
Shinomi: “Boooring… Shoko, I thought you said this would be quick. This feels like a hassle.”
Behind him, a teasing voice purred through the air.
???: “My, my… it really is you, Shinomi Fukushima — the deadly killer, the grotesque monster.”
He didn’t bother turning.
Shinomi: “Okay. Good to know.”
The woman laughed softly. Her long black hair shimmered in the sunlight as she tilted her head, smile playful yet dangerous.
???: “Oh, where are my manners? My name’s Hinata Tsuryu. And I must say, I admire your presence here. But the fact that you, of all people, got caught? Hard to believe.”
Shinomi: “Sorry to disappoint you and your line of work.”
She giggled again, brushing a strand from her face — her eyes glowed with something wild.
Up on the podium, Draken cleared his throat, reclaiming the crowd’s attention.
Draken: “Now… where was I? Ah, yes. Each of you will be assigned a monitor. For safety reasons, of course. And who better for that task… than the swordsmen of the Sarutobi Clan?”
The Sarutobi warriors drew their blades in a single synchronized motion — steel singing in the air.
Each blade lowered to rest near the necks of the prisoners they were assigned to.
Among them, Shoko Sarutobi stepped forward, her expression unreadable. Her sword gleamed coldly in the sunlight as she positioned it near Shinomi’s throat.
Through the reflection of her own blade, she saw flickers of memory — the blood, the screams, the ghosts of those she’d slain.
She inhaled sharply, then steadied herself.
Draken: “We all wish you good luck on your travels.”
The wind blew harder. Silence again.
Then — slow, dragging footsteps echoed from the back.
An old man appeared, leaning heavily on his cane. His robes fluttered as he stepped onto the podium.
Yagami Thoumox, Chairman of the Danzai-in.
He coughed into his handkerchief, the white cloth stained red.
Yagami: “Forgive my interruption… but there’s a problem. The boats — there aren’t enough. We’ll need to… trim their numbers.”
The air went dead still.
Draken’s smile was faint — but cruel.
Draken: “Well then…”
He turned toward the crowd, eyes glinting.
“You heard the man. What will you do?”
A single moment of hesitation — then chaos exploded.
A rock whistled through the air, smashing into a prisoner’s face with a sickening crack.
Blood splattered across the sand.
A massive figure stepped forward, laughing madly — a mountain of muscle and scars, hair bright yellow like burning straw.
???: “Isn’t it obvious, you idiots?! They’re telling us to kill each other!”
A guide watching from the sidelines spoke quietly, almost reverently.
Guide: “That one’s Remlin Roger. Said to be an ogre in human form. He slaughtered his own family and displayed their heads for all to see.”
Before the words faded, Hinata moved — swift as a whip.
Her foot connected with a man’s jaw — crack! — and before he even hit the ground, she ripped a chunk of flesh from his face with her bare hand.
Blood sprayed across her cheek as she licked it off, smiling.
Guide: “That’s Hinata Tsuryu. Former shinobi of the Temple of Raigeki. She turned her training into a massacre. Wiped out an entire village.”
Two men charged at a giant figure armed with clubs — but the giant seized both by their throats. Bones crunched under his grip. Blood streamed down his arms as he raised their bodies high — and drank their blood like water.
Guide: “Disgusting creature. Lobo, the human eater. He’s rumored to have devoured six people alive.”
Then, amidst the slaughter, one man moved with unnatural calm.
He struck with precision, knocking his foes unconscious instead of killing.
Guide: “That’s Sai Haruno. A monk who lost control — killed the children he taught. He turned himself in after.”
The beach became a nightmare. Sand turned red, and the cries of agony mixed with crashing waves.
Through it all, Shinomi didn’t move.
He simply watched — eyes empty, detached.
Finally, he sighed, brushing sand off his knees as he stood.
Shinomi: “Hey, sorry to interrupt, sir…”
He walked toward Draken, ignoring the chaos around him.
Shinomi: “How many people do we need to be before we move to the island?”
Draken blinked, amused by the sheer composure.
Draken: “Hmm… there were about five hundred of you. Now, maybe three hundred. You need to be trimmed down to a hundred.”
Shinomi: “So… two hundred need to die, huh? Thanks.”
Scene III — The Monster Within
Tension rippled across the survivors.
One prisoner, face twisted in rage, pointed at Shinomi.
Prisoner: “Hey, shorty! You’re acting all calm like you’re above this. What the hell are you—”
Shinomi: “Listen.”
His voice softened.
Shinomi: “All I want… is a normal life. But the way you’re all killing each other? It’s too slow. So…”
He bowed slightly.
Shinomi: “I’m gonna hate doing this. Please forgive me.”
Prisoner: “What the hell are you—”
CRACK!
Shinomi vanished — then reappeared with his hand buried in the man’s face.
The prisoner’s body went limp as Shinomi kicked, sending the head spinning into the air.
Gasps filled the air.
Shinomi crouched, his body twisting, movements animalistic. He dashed forward on all fours, tearing into another man’s throat with his teeth.
He slid, slicing through another’s legs and dragging the severed limb to his mouth.
Slash. Crack. Squelch.
The screams faded one by one until there was only silence — and the hiss of waves.
When it was over, fifty bodies lay strewn across the beach.
The last man stumbled backward, trembling.
Shinomi stepped forward, ripped the beating heart from his chest, and stared at it blankly. Blood dripped down his arm, glistening in the dying sunlight.
From a distance, Shoko watched, her body trembling.
A single tear slid down her cheek.
Renji: “You okay? You think you can handle him?”
She wiped the tear away and forced a smile.
Chapter 4 – Long Awaited Trip
Time: 1:30 PM
Year: 1867
The port was alive with tension and salt-filled air as prisoners were herded toward the line of ships waiting at the docks. The wooden planks groaned under the weight of chains and shuffling feet. Soldiers barked orders, their voices mixing with the crashing waves below.
Among the prisoners, Shinomi and Shoko were led to the same ship. The sky was a pale blue, and the sun glared down as if it wanted to burn the very world beneath it. When the ropes were loosened and the sails caught the wind, the long-awaited journey began — the one that would take them to Awaji Island, the home of the legendary Tears of the Gods.
Shinomi stood silently at the deck’s edge, his posture perfectly still. His sharp, unreadable eyes locked onto Shoko’s. His stare didn’t waver, didn’t blink — cold, deep, and unsettling.
Shinomi: “Your eyes... it’s like you see multiple ghosts wherever you go.”
His voice was calm, yet it cut through the ocean breeze like a blade. Shoko flinched, turning her head slightly away from his piercing gaze.
Shoko: “And you have a habit of being weird! Stop looking at me like that.”
Shinomi blinked once and turned his attention elsewhere, his face calm and unreadable as his eyes drifted over the other ships cutting through the sea toward Awaji. Shoko noticed how detached he seemed — like the waves could crash and the world could burn, and he’d barely move.
Shoko: “You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to smile once in a while. Keep your face like that, and no one’ll know if you’re dead or alive.”
For the first time, Shinomi’s eyes flickered slightly — not in anger, but as if the words stirred something small, something long buried.
Shinomi: “I can’t smile. It never ends well. It isn’t my strong suit.”
Shoko: “What? That’s nonsense. Come on, try it.”
Shinomi: “No... I can’t. I’d rather not, okay?”
There was something tired in his tone, as if the very act of pretending joy was too heavy for him to carry.
Shoko: “You know... if you want a normal life, smiling is a regular custom. But fine. I won’t force you.”
He turned his head toward her, eyes narrowing slightly.
Shinomi: “Really? Fine then... don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
He tried. His lips curved, painfully slow, trembling like they weren’t meant to move that way. The expression twisted unnaturally — his eyes bulged slightly, and his teeth gleamed sharp, like those of a shark about to bite.
Shoko: “Uh... it needs some practice...”
Shinomi: “Told you.”
The ship rocked gently as the two went quiet, the silence stretching like an ocean current between them. Time passed slowly. Eventually, the island appeared on the horizon — Awaji — a dazzling place painted in unnatural colors. Trees shimmered in blues, reds, and yellows, the ground pulsing faintly with an eerie life of its own.
When they docked, the prisoners disembarked. Some ran wildly, others trudged forward. Shinomi stepped off calmly, walking into the strange forest. Shoko followed behind him, her hand hovering near her blade’s handle.
Shoko: “This forest... the colors. They’re awfully disgusting. None of them make sense.”
Shinomi: “Yeah, you’re right. Doesn’t seem beautiful, even though that’s what the legends say.”
He snapped the rope binding his wrists, tossing it to the ground.
Shoko: “What are you doing?! Tie your hands back together—now!”
Shinomi: “My hands are getting tired of that. It’s not like I’d have anywhere to ru—”
Before he could finish, a massive wrecking ball came swinging through the trees and smashed into the side of his head. The impact launched him through the air, breaking trees in his path before he crashed into the dirt.
Shoko: “Shinomi!”
The forest trembled. Footsteps echoed. A man emerged, dragging a massive chain with the wrecking ball attached. Behind him, a tall figure with purple hair and a blank, bored expression appeared.
Executioner: “Now now, Hiruzen... you almost hit my little sister. Take it easy.”
The brute grinned, eyes wide and wild.
Hiruzen: “Oh really? Fine, I won’t touch her. I just want to murder everybody in this forest so I can get that fruit!”
Shoko’s expression shifted from shock to disbelief.
Shoko: “Shinra... what are you doing?”
Her brother, still calm, barely blinked.
Shinra: “Oh, would you relax, Shoko? We’re not here to stop these criminals from killing each other. That’s none of our business. We’re just here to make sure they don’t escape. This is Hiruzen’s way of finding the fruit.”
Her eyes narrowed, voice trembling with disgust.
Shoko: “You may have a point, but we can’t just let them cannibalize each other! Their numbers will drop, and General Draken will never reach his goal!”
Shinra: “You sure have an act of justice, given you’re the weakest Sarutobi.”
Her breath caught.
Shinra: “If you have a problem with my methods, do something about it. The weak don’t get to make choices. I thought you knew that... failure.”
Tears welled in her eyes, but before she could reply, a tree came flying through the air. It smashed into Hiruzen, sending him tumbling into rubble.
Shoko: “Shinomi!”
From the debris, Shinomi walked out, brushing dirt from his shoulder.
Shinomi: “Sorry to interrupt your family reunion... and that ball hurt a bit.”
Shoko: “You... withstood that?!”
Shinomi: “Hey, look at his hands — they’re not tied.”
Shoko: “This isn’t the time for that!”
Shinra: “My, my... you’ve got your work cut out for you there, Shoko.”
Hiruzen roared, swinging his chain arm. Shinomi and Shoko ducked, trees splintering as the iron ball ripped through them. Shinomi rushed forward, landing a powerful kick to Hiruzen’s gut — but instead of soft flesh, it felt like solid wood.
Shinomi: “Well, that’s new.”
Hiruzen laughed maniacally, lifting his shirt to reveal samurai armor stitched into his skin.
Hiruzen: “You think that could work against me?! I’ve done everything to enhance myself!”
Shoko: “So it’s you... Hiruzen Kamatachi. The man obsessed with blades. The one who killed merchants for sport...”
Shinomi: “Alright, let’s wrap this up.”
He dashed forward, diving in for a kick.
Shoko: “Shinomi, wait—!”
Hiruzen coughed violently as the kick connected, spitting out four blades from his stomach. Shinomi twisted his body midair, barely dodging them — one slicing his cheek.
Shoko: “That man eats blades! His stomach’s built for that!”
Shinomi: “You don’t say... alright then. I’m annoyed now.”
In the next instant, Hiruzen’s body was on the ground, impaled by his own blades, lifeless.
Shinomi: “Damn bug.”
Shoko stared in disbelief.
Shoko: “Wow...”
Shinra turned away, voice as calm as ever.
Shoko: “Wait! Where are you going?”
Shinra: “Home. My target’s dead. No reason to stay.”
Shoko: “But... I want to fight alongside you...”
Shinra: “Keep dreaming. The weak don’t get to choose.”
Her eyes fell to the dirt, but she held her tears back. Shinomi began tying the rope around his hands again.
Shinomi: “So... onward?”
Shoko: “Yeah. Let’s move. We can’t waste a second.”
Elsewhere on the island, Renji placed a glowing seal on a tree. Behind him stood Lobo, quiet and motionless.
Renji’s mind drifted to a memory — Hanma’s voice echoing.
Hanma: “Renji... you’ve been chosen to join the Sarutobi on this mission. That’s great! You can finally prove that you’re special, even if you’re not one of them!”
But when Renji looked back at Lobo, the air shifted. Lobo’s eyes burned red — filled with pure, hungry bloodlust.
Renji: “What is it, Lobo? You hungry?”
No response.
Then — a blur. Lobo’s hand shot forward, crashing into Renji’s blade. It snapped like glass. Time slowed as Renji’s life flashed before his eyes.
Renji (thinking): What was I thinking... the Sarutobi are the exception...
The hand pierced through his chest. The forest fell silent. His blood spilled onto the dirt, and soon, half his lifeless body was swallowed by the bushes.
Characters Introduced
Shinra Sarutobi
Height: 186 cm Appearance: Smooth skin, purple eyelashes, purple hair and eyes Clothes: Danzai-in uniform
Hiruzen Kamatachi
Height: 200 cm Appearance: A plump, wide-eyed man with bloodshot brown eyes Clothes: Crimson samurai armor stitched to his body
Chapter 5 – New Normal
Time: 2:45 PM
Year: 1867
The forest was eerily quiet after the bloodshed. The smell of burnt flesh and ash lingered in the air as Shinomi and Shoko continued their trek. Shoko still looked pale, glancing every so often at Shinomi—this boy who had just brutalized a man twice his size like it was nothing.
Shoko: “If you don’t mind me asking... I know your past is supposed to be boring, but I have to ask—how do you have abilities like that? And on top of that, a curse technique? Come clean already!”
Shinomi didn’t even turn to look at her. His eyes were tired, his tone flat.
Shinomi: “You’re really interested, huh? Alright then... fine.”
He exhaled slowly.
Shinomi: “I grew up in the village of Akagami. Nothing special. Until the chief got greedy and started a war with a clan of shinobi. He managed to steal one of their scrolls—the Ancient Scroll of Ashura Flames.”
Shoko’s eyes narrowed. Shinomi’s voice deepened as he continued.
Shinomi: “The chief tried to use it, but no one could master it. He turned the whole village into experiments. He tortured, killed... even my parents. Said he was ‘creating warriors.’ Out of all the failures, I was the first to learn the art. The first to live.”
A heavy silence filled the forest. Shoko’s voice came out faint.
Shoko: “That story is anything but boring… I don’t even want to imagine how long you’ve kept that locked inside.”
Shinomi: “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
Before Shoko could respond, the ground trembled violently. The trees swayed as a monstrous roar ripped through the air. Both warriors spun around, blades ready.
Shoko: “That wasn’t me…”
Shinomi: “Wasn’t me either.”
The earth split as a grotesque dinosaur-like creature emerged, towering over them. Its face was mangled, its skin covered in red and purple scales dotted with yellow pustules.
Shoko: “What the hell is that?!”
Shinomi: “No clue… but it doesn’t look friendly.”
The beast opened its mouth, releasing a swarm of giant wasps that buzzed furiously toward them.
Shinomi: “Sacred Art—Flaming Air Combustion!”
A torrent of fire burst from Shinomi’s mouth, engulfing the swarm in flames. But before the smoke cleared, two more of the creatures lumbered out from the forest.
Shoko: “Oh come on, there’s more of them?!”
She slashed at a pair of leeches crawling up her kimono—each one bearing distorted human faces.
Shoko: “These things are disgusting!”
Shinomi: “Focus. We can’t ease up.”
He vaulted into the air, landing on the beast’s neck, his hands clawing into its hide.
Shinomi: “Sacred Art—Flaming Slash!”
Fire erupted as his strikes tore through the monster’s body. The flames spread, lighting the forest in a hellish glow.
On the ground, Shoko struggled as more leeches and wasps emerged. A sickly green mist began to fill the air.
Shoko: “Could we even call this place paradise… or hell?”
One of the dinosaurs whipped its tail across the ground, sending out a shockwave. Shinomi flipped backward to avoid it, while Shoko drove her blade into the soil to anchor herself.
Shoko: “Shinomi! I have a plan!”
Shinomi: “Whatever it is—it better be good!”
Shoko: “Burn the bugs again—now!”
He spun around and unleashed another fiery breath.
Shinomi: “Sacred Art—Flaming Air Combustion!”
The explosion lit the clearing as Shoko drew in the heat, channeling it into her blade. She slashed horizontally, creating a sharp gust of wind that sent the flames hurtling toward the dinosaur’s face. It exploded on impact, blasting the creature’s head apart.
The victory was short-lived—two more beasts rose from the smoke.
Shinomi: “I can’t keep this up forever!”
Then, in a blur of motion, ropes of glowing thread wrapped around the monsters, yanking them together. A figure dropped from the sky, sliding across the ground before stopping in front of them.
She stood tall, smiling wide, cheeks slightly flushed.
???: “Ta-da~! Great to see you again, Shinomi!”
Shinomi blinked, clearly annoyed.
Shinomi: “...Do I know you?”
The girl grinned and pointed a finger dramatically.
Hinata: “You don’t remember? How could you forget the prettiest bounty hunter in the region? I saved your life just now! That deserves at least a ‘thanks,’ you know.”
Shinomi: “Yeah, thanks... I guess.”
From behind the fallen monsters, a bespectacled man crawled out, brushing dust off his uniform.
Shinomi: “Who’s that?”
Shoko: “Oh—it’s you, Arthur! I didn’t think you’d be assigned to travel with her.”
Arthur: “Ah, Shoko. Good to see you again. The journey’s been... chaotic.”
Shinomi crossed his arms, uninterested.
Shinomi: “Alright, enough small talk. What do you want, Hinata?”
Hinata struck a heroic pose, hand on her hip, winking.
Hinata: “Simple! I want to team up! You, me, and the others—we could find the fruit together! And maybe, if we’re lucky, fall madly in love along the way—”
Shinomi: “Hard pass.”
Her smile instantly flattened into a pout.
Hinata: “You didn’t even hesitate! Come on, Shinomi! Think of the benefits—free backup, good looks, and someone who actually makes the story entertaining!”
Shinomi: “We don’t need allies.”
Hinata: “Okay, but what if I told you I brought two badass fighters and a walking encyclopedia?”
She gestured proudly at Arthur, who awkwardly held up a book.
Hinata: “Ta-da! He’s got all the monster data—stats, weaknesses, even breeding habits!”
Arthur coughed. “I... didn’t write that last part.”
Shinomi raised an eyebrow.
Shinomi: “You two got along fast. Shoko threatened to kill me the day we met.”
Hinata: “Arthur’s different! He’s soft and squishy—like a stress ball that talks!”
Arthur’s cheeks reddened.
Arthur: “That’s... not how I’d describe myself.”
Shinomi sighed and looked at Shoko.
Shinomi: “Your call.”
Shoko: “It’s your decision. I’m just along for the chaos.”
Shinomi groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.
Shinomi: “Fine. Temporary alliance. Nothing more.”
Hinata: “YES! That works for me!”
Before anyone could celebrate, Shoko suddenly collapsed, falling limp to the ground.
Hinata (worried): “Uh... that wasn’t because of me, right?”
Shinomi: “No. But it might be worse.”
He knelt beside Shoko as the faint buzzing of insects began to rise again from the trees.
Characters Introduced
Arthur Sarutobi
Height: 145 cm Age: 24 Appearance: Short black hair, round glasses, slightly chubby build. Clothing: Danzai-in uniform. Personality: Smart, anxious, and constantly regretting being part of the adventure.
Chapter 6
Plans on Plans
Time: 4:30 PM
Shoko was asleep in a dimly lit cave, but she suddenly jolted awake, a worried look on her face. Arthur, sitting beside her, noticed her sudden movement.
Shoko: What… happened to me? Ow… my head…
Arthur hurried over to help her stand.
Arthur: Hey, take it easy! You just woke up, won’t you ease up a bit?
Shoko ignored him and walked toward the wall, grabbing her sword before heading toward the cave exit.
Shoko: I can’t let Shinomi out of my sight…
Stepping outside, she saw Shinomi sitting by a campfire, a burnt fish roasting, while Hinata was perched on a tree, reading a book. Shinomi noticed Shoko immediately.
Shinomi: Oh, great to see you awake. It’s been… two hours.
Shoko blinked, surprised to see him there.
Shoko: Where did you get that fish?
Shinomi: Went to the shore with Hinsta to catch some.
Hinata grinned, clearly pleased to be mentioned.
Hinata: And, of course, tied up by yours truly! You see, Shinomi, you and I were destined for each—
Shinomi: Shoko, can you check the fish for me? I’m not much of a cook.
Hinata pouted, obviously annoyed to be ignored.
Shoko: Sure thing.
They worked together to finish cooking the fish before sunset, then retreated back to the cave. After eating, Arthur pulled out a stack of books detailing monster information.
Hinata: We managed to get a lot of information—not just about the monsters you guys encountered, but some others too. And… I may have seduced a few random criminals and used them as test subjects!
Shoko’s face twisted in disgust.
Shoko: …What did you guys manage to find out?
Arthur: There are bees in this forest with… human faces. If one of those stings you, your whole body turns into flowers or trees.
Shoko gasped, recalling the adventurers sent by General Draken.
Shoko: That… that must be what happened to the guards Draken sent.
Arthur: Possibly.
Hinata leaned in with a mischievous grin.
Hinata: Okay, okay, my turn to be useful! Those leeches you encountered? They mess with your mind. Get bitten, and you might… want to do some really crazy stuff. Suicide-level crazy! Pretty cool, huh?
Shoko and Arthur exchanged a glance, brushing it off. Arthur spoke again.
Arthur: We also learned those dinosaur things are actually mutated humans. The wasps are the main source—they spit out toxins that knock people out. That’s probably what happened to you, Shoko.
Shoko’s eyes widened.
Shinomi: Even so… that doesn’t explain their tough skin. Why would they need that?
Hinata: Ohhh, Shinomi, you’re even hotter when you think!
Arthur continued.
Arthur: Their skin… it’s linked to the human-faced bees. The bees turn humans into wood, and the wasps aren’t far off. Together, they mutate human corpses into those wooden-skinned forms.
Hinata’s eyes sparkled with interest.
Hinata: You know, all of this info is useful… but what if General Draken just wanted the Sarutobis dead? What if this fruit… doesn’t even exist?
Shinomi: It’s real…
Everyone froze, staring at him. Shinomi’s eyes darkened as a flashback hit: a child covered in blood, a man on fire with a blade through his head smiling at him.
Shinomi: …The fruit is real…
Tension filled the cave.
Hinata: …Well, that’s enough planning for today. Honestly? I’m so sleepy.
Everyone settled down. A few hours later, while most slept, Shinomi sat cross-legged on a boulder, deep in thought. Shoko quietly approached.
Shinomi: I’m not planning on sleeping… so you’re wasting your time.
Shoko’s expression hardened.
Shoko: I’m taking turns with Arthur to make sure you don’t act out or try to escape.
Shinomi: You still don’t trust me… Oh! I forgot—about that guy we met two days ago. He said you were his little sister?
Shoko’s expression darkened.
Shoko: Yes… he’s my older brother. Shinra.
Shinomi: He was being a little mean to you, don’t you think?
Shoko: Yeah… that’s just how he is. Always stronger than me… in every way.
Shinomi’s eyes widened.
Shinomi: Really? I sensed both of you… I’d have expected you to be stronger.
Shoko’s face fell, sadness creeping in.
Shoko: Please… don’t lie to me.
Shinomi: I’m serious. There’s a… special something inside you. I can feel it, trust me.
The next day, as everyone prepared to move, they saw a man with paper covering his face, bloodshot eyes, and tattered rags.
Shoko froze.
Shoko: Lobo? What are you doing here… you’re supposed to be with…
Her heart raced, sweat dripping.
Shoko: …What have you done with Renji?
Lobo remained silent. Shinomi, Hinata, and Arthur tensed.
Lobo: Fooooood…
He roared, slamming a massive hand into the ground. A shockwave slashed the area, toppling boulders everywhere.
Shinomi: Hey, Hinata! You’ve got a cursed ability like mine, right? Now’s a good time!
Hinata leapt onto a tree, holding Arthur like a backpack.
Hinata: Nah, this one’s all yours! Besides, it’s set up for you—time to impress your future bride!
Shoko noticed Shinomi’s guard down.
Shoko: Shinomi! Watch out!
Lobo’s hand smacked Shinomi’s head, sending him face-first into the dirt. Blood poured from his nose as Lobo readied another strike.
Shinomi (thinking): Come on… move… I can take this… come on!
Shinomi froze, but Shoko dashed in, creating distance just in time. The impact cracked the ground.
Shinomi: Thanks for the save…
Shoko’s veins bulged as she gripped her sword.
Shoko: I swear… I’ll make you pay for what you did to Renji!
Shinomi and Shoko both took fighting stances. Lobo leapt, slamming his arms down to strike them. A smoke screen erupted as Shinomi landed a kick to Lobo’s face.
Shinomi: That slap hurt, bastard!
Lobo staggered but quickly retaliated, sending a palm toward Shinomi’s torso. Shinomi performed a side flip, landing on Lobo’s hand and elbowing his face—without causing damage.
Shinomi: His skin… too hard!
Lobo swung again; Shinomi dodged with a backhandspring. Shoko struck the back of his knees, clanging off his armored legs.
Shoko: I swear… I’ll make you pay!
Before Lobo could retaliate, Shinomi grabbed Shoko and dashed back.
Shinomi: Get your head in the game!
Lobo roared, hurling massive boulders.
Shinomi: Sacred Art! Dancing Flash Turbulent!
Shoko ignited in flames, moving in zig-zag patterns, smashing the boulders into rocks.
Shinomi: Sacred Art! Flaming Launch Stone Mode!
He kicked rocks at Lobo, igniting them. Lobo emerged unscathed, his flaming body glaring at Shinomi.
The ensuing battle was brutal: punches clashed, shockwaves tore through trees, and Shinomi’s arm ignited. Blood poured as he slammed against a tree, collapsing.
Shoko’s hands trembled, remembering how hard Lobo’s skin was.
Shoko (thinking): It’s no use… Am I really weak? Is this what everyone thinks of me… Renji…
Visions of Shinra’s clones repeated in her mind:
Shinra Clones: Weak… useless… half-baked.
Tears streamed as Lobo approached. Flashbacks of her childhood flooded her mind: sword practice with Shinra, holding her father’s hand, laughter over a teddy bear, and the tragic fire that took her father.
Shinra’s voice echoed in her memory:
Shinra: Fat chance… I’ve put everything on the line for you! And you’re going to throw yourself into a job where you might die? What was it all for?
Shoko flinched at the weight of his words.
Shinra: I’m done! Never use me as an excuse for your useless life!
She remembered Renji too.
Renji: If you stopped acting like you’re better than everyone, maybe someone would notice you! Fight me—I’ll show you what an average Joe can do!
Shoko’s anger and pride fueled her. They sparred, Renji losing every time, but his words cut deep.
Renji: Aw man… I guess you win, Shoko. But what you’re doing… it’s really cool.
Shoko smiled faintly, the memory giving her strength.
Back in the present, Shoko clashed with Lobo, deflecting blow after blow, steam rising from her breath. Hinata and Arthur watched in awe.
Hinata: How is she… doing that? Did she unlock a cheat code?
Arthur: Only seen her like this once… she’s said to outclass every Sarutobi member.
Shinomi and Shoko moved at lightning speed, attacking Lobo with incredible coordination. Trees ignited as Lobo swung burning branches. Hinata grabbed Arthur.
Hinata: Better get going before we’re toast!
Arthur: We can’t leave them behind!
Shinomi unleashed a flaming slash; Shoko cut Lobo’s hand mid-air and kicked his face. Lobo roared but was relentless.
Shinomi: Now… Sacred Art! Flaming Air Combustion!
Flames erupted as Shoko moved to Lobo’s side, raising her blade.
Shoko (thinking): Just because his skin is hardened doesn’t mean he’s immune… No human can withstand a Sarutobi blade.
Lobo bent on his knees; Shinomi pinned his other hand. Shoko focused, steam rising, her mind clearing. She felt her father’s guidance, Renji’s encouragement, and the voices of those who doubted her fade.
Shoko: This is… the flow.
With a swing, Lobo’s head rolled into the fire.
Shinomi: Nice! We gotta go—we’re gonna burn alive!
Shoko and Shinomi ran from the burning forest, leaving destruction in their wake.
Characters Introduced:
None
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