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Midorima gripped his ninja sword and stepped onto the arena, his eyes locking onto the approaching figure of Akimoto Ruri.
She looked no older than sixteen or seventeen, with hair that wasn't particularly long but was still tied back. Her eyes were large, but all Midorima could see in them was an icy coldness.
She wasn't tall—perhaps around 150 centimeters—and though her frame wasn't overly slender, her exposed arms were more muscular than he had expected.
She wasn't as strikingly beautiful as Mei Terumi, but she carried herself with the same sharp efficiency. Most notably, her frigid gaze held no other emotions, giving off an air of rare, unwavering focus.
"Are you Asachi Midorima?" Akimoto Ruri asked.
"Yes," Midorima nodded.
"Someone wants me to kill you. For 2.2 million ryō."
Midorima had never imagined that their first exchange would unfold like this.
"I didn't realize my head was so 'valuable.'"
"I refused," Ruri said, her eyelids lowering slightly.
"Why? Not enough money?" Midorima couldn't quite grasp the girl standing before him.
"It wasn't that. The money is important to me—more importantly, they promised to treat my mother's illness."
"But you still turned them down…" Midorima grew even more confused.
He had already steeled himself to eliminate Akimoto Ruri swiftly and decisively. Yet now, after hearing her words, he couldn't decipher her intentions.
"Because I don't trust them… I don't trust Kirigakure. Even if I did as they asked, would they really give me the 2.2 million ryō? Would they really treat my mother? I don't believe them. They have so many people, so much power—why would they entrust something as trivial as killing to me? There must be something suspicious about it. If I cooperate with them to kill you, there's no guarantee they won't turn on me afterward."
"I don't need them. If I make it to the end, both the money and my mother's treatment will be resolved. The only thing I trust is the ninja sword in my hand."
Ruri's gaze shifted toward the high stands, as if trying to discern the faces of those seated within.
"If your goal clashes with mine, then this fight is unavoidable. I won't hold back," Midorima said.
"Good. That's exactly what I want."
---
Mei Terumi watched the two on the arena floor with growing impatience.
"They're just standing there talking," she muttered, puffing her cheeks in frustration.
The match timer had already started, yet they were still idly chatting.
But more than the wasted time, Mei was curious about what they were discussing.
They'd been dragging it out for so long—why hadn't they started yet?
"What's the rush? The match will be over soon anyway," Zabuza said, yawning.
"By the way, how'd you get that injury around your eye? Doesn't look like a blade wound," Mei asked.
"Keep asking, and I'm leaving right now," Zabuza shot back, issuing a "yellow card" warning.
These two were something else—one beat him up, and the other wanted to know how it happened.
What, were they planning a repeat performance?
Not a chance.
Mei rolled her eyes. "Fine, don't tell me. It's not like getting beaten up is anything to brag about."
"You—"
"The match is starting."
Mei instantly changed the subject, and Zabuza's attention immediately snapped back to the arena.
Ruri launched the first strike, darting toward Midorima with lightning speed.
In the blink of an eye, their blades clashed, sending sparks flying.
"What just happened? How did they engage so quickly?"
"That kunoichi's draw was insanely fast—I couldn't even see it!"
"No, the real surprise is how the guy blocked it. How did he even react in time?"
The moment the two fighters crossed blades, murmurs erupted across the spectator stands. Even Mei felt a sudden, suffocating tension.
The First Strike!
Not just fast—but sudden.
An attack launched with blinding speed, catching the opponent off guard and leaving no room for defense.
Even Mei wasn't sure she could have countered it.
Yet, against all expectations, Midorima seemed prepared. He retreated while blocking Ruri's strike, though the backward momentum prevented him from immediately counterattacking.
From a tactical standpoint, Ruri had seized the initiative.
What followed was an unrelenting barrage of attacks, forcing Midorima into continuous retreat. The situation looked dire.
In truth, unless there was a significant gap in skill, Ruri's relentless assault would overwhelm anyone.
Anyone with sharp eyes could see that this was Ruri's ideal fighting style—meticulously trained, with no wasted movements, emphasizing speed and precision.
---
Igawa sat in the elevated stands, watching the match unfold with a deeply perplexed expression. The more he observed the girl, the less he understood her.
If she didn't need money, why did she take on dangerous missions as long as the pay was high?
If she did need money, why had she refused the 2.2 million ryō right in front of her?
If she was holding back, why was her assault so ferocious that even Igawa felt a chill down his spine?
If she wasn't holding back, then why had she rejected his "offer"?
Igawa racked his brain but couldn't figure it out.
Just then, a shinobi approached and handed him a scroll.
Suspicious, he unrolled it—it was a message from Haruhisa.
"We've located a suspicious area, but no suspects were found."
No suspects?
Igawa rubbed his temples. Haruhisa was utterly unreliable.
Wait…
A sudden thought struck him. Could it be that Ruri had refused his offer because the person who contacted her was incompetent?
In that instant, Igawa felt like all his subordinates were useless fools who only knew how to ruin things.
Ugh… what a headache.
The writing on the scroll gradually faded, and Igawa crumpled the blank parchment, turning his attention back to the match.
After enduring Ruri's initial onslaught, Midorima finally began his counterattack—and his speed was no less terrifying than Ruri's.
What was going on? Since when had he gotten this strong?
Igawa pushed aside his frustration and focused intently on the battle. After two or three exchanges, Midorima had actually gained the upper hand.
How?!
Igawa immediately straightened in his seat, nerves taut.
Was that brat actually going to win? Or was this simply Akimoto Ruri's true skill level?
The two fighters had now entered a bloodthirsty clash—one unwilling to lose, the other unable to afford defeat.
Midorima hadn't originally known how to wield a ninja sword, but Hōzuki Mangetsu was a prodigy with the blade. After spending extensive time training with him, Midorima had picked up some techniques.
But mastering a skill was one thing—Midorima had learned the mechanics from Mangetsu, yet in actual combat, he still relied on instinct, leading to mistakes.
That was, until his battles with the Third.
Every flaw had been ruthlessly exposed—because the slightest misstep would have meant death.
Even when he had the advantage, a single error allowed the Third to seize the moment and turn the tables.
Those brutal experiences had ingrained in him a habit of relentless vigilance. He would never let his guard down until his opponent was completely incapacitated.
*****
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