"Raiton: White Lion Storm Bite (B)!"
"Fūton: Great Wind Bullet! (C)"
Thunder against wind.
In addition to being a jonin, Operative Stalker had the element advantage. A mere C-rank jutsu, powered with higher chakra reserves, sufficed to disrupt Ryugo's strongest lightning jutsu. The both of them were ninjutsu specialists, but the difference was made clear in this single clash of power.
'Ameruyi against two chunins, Tetsu against one', Ryugo analysed inwardly, 'I cannot rely on them for help. I must survive with my own abilities'
However, Ryugo had expected this much. As soon as he had cast the white lion storm bite jutsu, he launched a Lightning Snake Kunai (D) in succession.
The shock in Operative Stalker's eyes hardened into a razor-edged focus as the kunai hit his shoulder, piercing his uniform. A clean hit, but on a non-vital organ. A shame, knowing that Ryugo had staked it all on this trick.
It would not work twice.
His left hand, still functional, flashed through a series of seals—Bird, Dog, Rat, Snake.
"Fūton: Gale Shotgun!" (B-Rank)
It wasn't a single technique, but a rapid-fire barrage. Dozens of compressed pellets of super-accelerated air, each the size of a kunai tip, screamed towards Ryugo in a widening cone. No single shot was fatal, but together they shredded the space he occupied, leaving no room to dodge.
Think.
Ryugo's Raikōgan flared. He saw the gaps—microscopic lags between the wind pellets' formation. Not enough to slip through. Especially in an enclosed room like this one. It limited his movements, making the cone gale shotgun a harbinger of death.
He didn't jump away. He lunged towards the wall, his left hand slapping the wet gutter.
"Raiton: Lightning Arc!" (D)
A jagged bolt of electricity raced down the gutter, not at Stalker, but into the pooling water at its end just as the air pellets arrived.
KA-BOOM!
The lightning superheated the water into an instant, localized steam explosion.
The plume of vapor wasn't just hot; it was a chakra-conductive mess that destabilized the carefully controlled wind pellets and created a fog of smoke.
'Under these circumstances, even a jonin would not be able to aim at me'
*SPLASH*
Their trajectories warped, whistling past Ryugo as he dropped flat, feeling the heat scorch his back. Two pellets grazed his thigh and calf. He gritted his teeth, the pain much more intense than he had anticipated. The strike was nasty. It would hurt his mobility.
Stalker was already moving, closing the distance his jutsu had bought him.
His left hand now held a kunai, gripped reverse. He was favoring his right side, but his speed was still terrifying.
"Clever", Stalker grunted, his kunai lashing out in a tight, professional pattern—throat, eyes, heart. "But if the First Shinobi War taught me anything, it's that ninjutsu specialists are usually not that strong in close combat, even if they have katanas on them"
Ryugo parried, the Storm-Sever katana clanging against the kunai. The force behind the jonin's strikes, even with one arm, was immense, numbing Ryugo's wrist with each impact.
He gave ground, step by step, his kenjutsu form—the solid, pragmatic Amegakure Swordsmanship (C)—being tested to its limit.
Stalker feinted high, then dropped, a sweeping kick aimed at Ryugo's ankles. Ryugo leapt, but Stalker was already rising, his kunai aiming for Ryugo's now-exposed underside.
"Raiton: Thunder Clap!" (D)
Ryugo didn't aim at Stalker. He clapped his free hand directly onto the flat of his own sword.
BANG!
A concussive blast of sound and light erupted at point-blank range. It was a crude, wasteful technique, but it was disorienting. Stalker blinked, the flash of light blinding him for a second.
Ryugo landed, his ears ringing, and counter-attacked.
"Ame Kenjutsu: Sixth form: Falling Rain!" (D)
A simple, vertical downward chop, amplified by gravity and chakra.
Stalker blocked it with his kunai, but his injured left side buckled slightly under the weight. Ryugo pressed, not with another powerful strike, but with a flurry of shallow, rapid cuts—"Ame Kenjutsu: Steel Pouring!" (E)—aimed not to kill, but to harass, to force reactions, to probe.
He was mapping Stalker's defenses with his sword and his dojutsu.
The Raikogan showed the faltering chakra flow to his left shoulder, the slight hesitation in the opposite right foot's pivot on the slick surface.
Stalker disengaged with a sharp backwards leap, putting five meters between them. His breathing was heavier now.
"Tsk...As expected, cornered rats bite"
Ryugo had bought himself some time with those tricks, but they had inevitably drained his chakra pool. His own chest was heaving, his chakra now below 60%. He had one, maybe two big moves left. He needed to end this before the jonin decided to stop playing and used a large-scale technique that would collapse the whole control room.