Chapter 7: Hunt in the Shadows
"Man, seriously. The village is still short-handed from the rebuild. Now this happens. People vanishing overnight… more than a handful already."
"Yeah, heard the ones from last night are still missing. Not a trace. Gives me the creeps."
"You think someone's using a jutsu to destroy the bodies?"
"Why would a ninja bother? The missing are all civilians. No money, no influence. What's the point?"
"Then how do the bodies just vanish? Maybe a foreign intruder."
"The village barrier didn't pick up any strange chakra signatures. You saying the village's protective barrier is faulty?"
"Hey, I never said that! Don't put words in my mouth."
The two chunin conversed as they walked, their flashlights carving weak cones of light in the thick, oppressive gloom of the sewer. After finding nothing but scurrying rats and stagnant water, their initial vigilance had waned.
Suddenly, the black-haired ninja—Hayata Kazuo—grabbed his companion's shoulder. "Look! Blood!"
Ahead, a large, dark pool of blood stained the walkway, a fresh rivulet of it trickling down into the central flow of murky effluent.
They hurried forward. Hayata formed a quick hand seal, summoning a gentle breeze to disperse some of the foul odor, while his companion, Takeshi Wenshu, crouched to examine the stain.
"It's fresh. Probably from one of the missing." Wenshu swept his light around, searching for more clues. But apart from the main pool and a few stray drops, there was nothing. No body, no drag marks, no footprints. He glanced warily at the dark, swirling sewage in the central channel. Dumped in the water?
"Who's there?!" Hayata's sharp cry made Wenshu's heart lurch. He sprang up, kunai flashing into his hand as he scanned the darkness. The sewer was a maze of shadows, and the thought of an unseen enemy hiding within them made the light in his hands feel pathetically small.
He swung his beam. Nothing. Just dripping water and crumbling concrete.
"Are you sure you saw someone?"
"I saw… a shape. But… I'm not sure it was human." Hayata's voice held a new uncertainty. He'd glimpsed limbs, assumed a person. But now, thinking back, the proportions in that fleeting shadow seemed… off. Maybe it wasn't limbs at all. The darkness could play tricks.
Before they could discuss it further, a thick, bluish-green arm shot out from the sewage channel with shocking speed, its clawed hand clamping like a vice around Wenshu's ankle.
Yank!
"In the water?!"
Wenshu had no time to react. He was hauled off his feet and plunged into the icy, fetid flow. The stench and filth flooded his senses, a physical assault.
Thud! Hayata stared, horrified, at the rippling water where his partner had vanished. The thought of diving into that… mess… churned his stomach. He was just an average chunin.
Underwater, Wenshu fought through the shock. With a trained shinobi's instinct, he slashed down with his kunai. The blade bit deep into the thick arm, nearly severing it, white bone gleaming in the murk. Any normal foe would have lost their grip.
He felt the grip loosen for a split second—then tighten with terrifying, multiplied force. He looked down, incredulous. The grievous wound on the arm was healing before his eyes, flesh knitting together seamlessly. Only the blood diluting in the water proved the injury had ever existed.
What kind of regeneration is this?!
CRACK.
Agony exploded as the monstrous hand clenched. The bones in Wenshu's ankle and lower leg shattered, his foot mangled into a useless, twisted lump. The pain was blinding. His mouth opened in a silent scream, and sewage rushed in, choking him.
Hssss… Hehehe… A gurgling, inhuman laughter seemed to vibrate through the water itself.
With its prize secured, Dry Arrow hauled itself and its captive onto the walkway, its full, grotesque form emerging into the dim light of Hayata's trembling flashlight.
Hayata's pupils dilated. He took an involuntary step back. If I'd known this… this thing was down here… But the sight of Wenshu, twitching and bleeding in the monster's grasp, forced his fear down. The creature was large, yes, bloated and misshapen, but maybe not unbeatable. He steeled himself, hands flying into seals.
"Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!"
A howling gale, sharp enough to flay skin, roared down the tunnel toward Dry Arrow.
The demon didn't flinch. Instead, the massive, distended stomach split open vertically into a gaping maw lined with three rows of triangular teeth. Beyond the teeth was not a stomach, but a seemingly endless, fleshy tunnel.
The maw inhaled.
The roaring wind, the compressed air blades, were all sucked into that dark gullet before they could make contact. They vanished without a sound, without a ripple.
Hayata stared, dumbfounded. "Wha… what…?"
It… ate my jutsu?
Dry Arrow's face contorted into a grotesque parody of satisfaction. A wet belch echoed in the tunnel. One snack wasn't enough. Still holding the semi-conscious Wenshu, it unceremoniously shoved the ninja's upper body into the stomach-maw, cramming him in. Wenshu's legs kicked feebly outside.
If it could, it would savor this, Dry Arrow thought with its simple mind. But there's another one right here.
"Hehehe… tasty," it gurgled, its turquoise eyes locking onto Hayata with predatory glee. With Wenshu's legs still protruding from its belly, it began a lurching, rapid charge down the walkway, its steps shaking the ground.
Hayata's paralysis broke. He flung three shuriken in a panic, not aiming, just trying to buy time, then turned and fled.
Dry Arrow batted the shuriken aside with a sweep of one of its four arms. One blade bit into its forearm, drawing a shallow cut. It ignored it completely. The wound sealed in seconds, leaving only a smear of dark blood. Unless dismembered, its healing was near-instantaneous. Small weapons were mere annoyances.
The mouth on Dry Arrow's face distended. It sucked in a deep, rattling breath and spat.
A wide spray of viscous, greenish acid erupted, raining down the corridor like toxic hail.
Sizzle!
Where it landed, concrete smoked and melted. Hayata, sensing the attack, formed a single hand seal even as he ran.
Poof!
The acid splattered across a substituted log. Dry Arrow paused, momentarily confused by the trick. But its senses, sharpened by demonic blood, quickly picked up Hayata's chakra and the sound of frantic footsteps echoing from a side tunnel ahead. A low, hungry growl rumbled in its throat as it gave chase, the legs of its first meal still dangling from its grotesque belly. The hunt was not over.
(End of Chapter)
🤗If you enjoyed this chapter, please add it to your collection and
keep supporting the story 💖✨
Bonus Chapter on 50 Power Stones ❤️