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In a sense, for Wuchen, who possessed the Goro Goro no Mi, ordinary physical attacks were simply ineffective against him. The reason he was dealing with Bunpuku in this manner was entirely to make the old man look bad.
Boom!
Although he used sand for defense at the first instant, his back suffered an unprecedented heavy blow. Bunpuku still couldn't help but spit out a mouthful of old blood. The strength of that tender kick was terrifying, sending him flying over a hundred meters away. He landed heavily, dragging an unusually long and narrow ditch in the ground, his life hanging in the balance.
"Old man, you're probably not dead, are you? As a Jinchuriki, your vitality should be very strong; it's impossible to be kicked to death like that." Seeing Bunpuku lying motionless on the ground, Wuchen merely glanced. He knew Bunpuku had only broken a few ribs; his vitality was still as vigorous as an ox's. Especially since this guy was a Jinchuriki, his life force couldn't possibly be that fragile.
"You little brat from the Uchiha clan, you're quite bold. You know I'm a Jinchuriki and still dare to come courting death. Does the Uchiha clan really think the Uchiha are still the Uchiha of old? Utterly foolish!" Bunpuku slowly stood up, wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, and glared sinisterly at Wuchen. A tidal wave of killing intent was unconcealed. His gaze fixed on Wuchen's demonic five-pointed star Sharingan, a scorching heat and human-like greed flashing in his eyes.
Why did the Uchiha clan dominate the Warring States period, standing proudly in the ninja world? It was because of the Sharingan. Why was Uchiha Madara deified by the world? It was because of his Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan.
"He can release black flames... It seems your eyes are not the same as ordinary Sharingan." Speaking of this, Bunpuku looked at his right arm, which was being consumed by Amaterasu, and narrowed his eyes. A look of resolve flashed in them. He formed a chakra blade with his left hand and cut it off without hesitation.
"You old man, you're really ruthless." Wuchen smiled faintly, looking at Bunpuku, who had severed his right arm. Wuchen frowned slightly, then said calmly that being burned by Amaterasu meant one could only sacrifice the limb. After all, this guy couldn't use Yin-Yang Release.
"You want my Sharingan, old man? Do you think you have the ability to do it?" Seeing Rosha still glaring at his eyes with a burning gaze, even ignoring his own arm, Wuchen could only sigh inwardly that this old man's head had been burned by the Mangekyo.
"Can't do it? That's not the right thing to say." Completely disregarding his missing right arm, Bunpuku laughed crazily. "Let alone just one arm; even if both were offered in exchange for a Sharingan more advanced than a Three-Tomoe, no one would care. The line of applicants would stretch for several streets."
"Those are originally my Sharingan, just lent to you for two days." Bunpuku said arrogantly, looking utterly defiant, his eyes fixed on Wuchen.
Pfft! Wuchen, upon hearing this, immediately burst into laughter—of course, it was out of anger. He had thought his own skin was thick enough, but compared to this old man, he was simply too naive...
"The Sharingan is renowned throughout the world for its genjutsu. The Sand needs such eyes..." Rosha clasped his hands in front, his gaze fixed on Wuchen, making no attempt to conceal his intentions as he spoke directly.
"You need it for yourself, don't you?!" Wuchen scoffed, his contempt for the old man growing even stronger.
"Indeed." Seeing his intentions exposed by Wuchen, Bunpuku laughed without a care, though his smile was somewhat eerie, and filled with an unprecedented excitement. His entire being also surged with many negative emotions, portending ill and disaster.
"This old man's chakra seems off..." His Mangekyo Sharingan stared intently at the deep red chakra suddenly overflowing from Rosha's body. For the first time in his life, Wuchen's face showed caution. This volatile chakra was distinctly different, filled with various negative emotions, and its intensity was much stronger than human chakra.
"Such domineering and evil chakra. Could it be—" His pupils suddenly constricted, as if he had thought of something. Wuchen looked at Bunpuku, deep in thought.
Hehehe... Just then, Bunpuku's eerie laughter rang out. He excitedly felt the power surging through his body, his eyes gleaming with fanaticism. It was a face like Wuchen's own in the past, filled with an endless yearning for power.
"How preposterous! I didn't expect that stinky tanuki would actually fear you... and be willing to lend me its chakra. Brat, I've already seen your miserable state, trampled and worthless!!!" Bunpuku laughed maniacally, appearing crazed, his face filled with hatred. The "stinky tanuki" he spoke of was undoubtedly Shukaku. Wuchen wasn't surprised that he hated the Tailed Beast, because every Jinchuriki was an isolated figure in any village. It was only natural for the Tailed Beast, as the culprit, to be hated by the Jinchuriki. It was also normal for the One-Tail Shukaku to fear Wuchen. The Sharingan could even control the Nine-Tails, let alone the most half-baked One-Tail. For Shukaku, staying in a Jinchuriki's body, though a bit lonely, at least afforded it some human (or beast) rights. Once controlled by the Sharingan, life would be miserable; it would surely become the strongest beast of burden!
"So what? Is that all?" Wuchen mocked Bunpuku. That terrifying chakra already surpassed his own, but the amount of chakra alone didn't mean much.
"Let alone just gaining the chakra of a beast, even if that beast itself came, I would still beat it black and blue!"