"Akashō, can you hear my whispers? Please act and help me. The price is… my ability, use it as you wish…"
"Hm? What is this brat mumbling about?"
The two Grass ninja bent down in confusion, trying to catch Karin's slurred whispers. Meanwhile, Akashō's lips curled slightly—he clearly knew what she was saying.
Karin saw it—the Crimson Demon, wearing a scornful smile, his eyes full of mockery.
It wasn't an illusion. It really was him. He heard her.
But why wouldn't he act? He clearly heard her.
Why? She had already made it clear that he could use her ability however he wanted. What more did he want? Aside from that ability, what else could she possibly offer? That ability was her everything!
Everything… everything?
Karin's eyes suddenly widened. Using all her strength, she lifted her head and shouted,
"I'm willing to give everything I have—to become your most loyal servant! Please help me!!!"
The two Grass ninja were startled by her sudden outburst and instinctively stepped back. Once they recovered, they grew furious.
"Who are you yelling at? At a time like this, you still expect someone to save you? Keep dreaming! I'm telling you—alive, you belong to the Hidden Grass Village; dead, you'll be its ghost!"
As he spoke, one of the ninja lifted his leg and kicked fiercely toward Karin's head. But at that moment, both of them suddenly felt a gust of wind sweep between them.
In the next second, with a dull thud, the ninja who kicked felt as if he had struck an iron plate. He immediately clutched his foot and screamed.
The other looked down and saw a figure crouching beside Karin. The kick had landed squarely on the oil-paper umbrella resting against that figure's shoulder.
"Who are you?!"
The Grass ninja instinctively drew his kunai.
Akashō crouched in front of Karin, propping his chin on his hand as he smiled faintly.
"Looks like you've finally figured it out."
"Figured… it out…"
Karin was so weak and exhausted that she could barely keep her eyes open. With what little strength she had, she spoke in broken fragments,
"I'm willing… to give… my ability… my soul… my body… everything… everything… Please… kill them…"
She didn't understand why offering her ability wasn't enough to make Akashō act. She didn't know what else she had that could be traded. But since he said so, then there must be something.
And just now, a sudden thought struck her—everything. Everything she had. Wouldn't that include whatever he wanted?
If he wanted it, then she'd give it. As long as she could have her revenge, nothing else mattered!
"Hm…"
Akashō raised an eyebrow. In truth, he had no interest in her so-called "everything." In terms of healing, Karin's ability was laughably inferior to Kokushibo's Demon Body. As for the soul, only the Dead Demon Consuming Seal seemed capable of touching that. And her body?
Not worth considering.
The only reason Akashō played along was simply to watch Karin struggle in her painful choices.
And now, the main act was almost over. What came next would be dessert.
Akashō slightly turned his head. Behind him, aside from the two Grass ninja who had been beating Karin, more than a dozen others had gathered, all on high alert.
"May I ask who you are, sir? Could you perhaps give the Hidden Grass Village some respect? I am the head of the intelligence division…"
One of the two Grass leaders who had spoken earlier addressed him. Akashō's near-instant appearance beside Karin had been so fast he hadn't even seen a shadow. With such strength, it was best to keep things peaceful.
"Me? I'm your father."
Akashō grinned. Twisting the umbrella handle, countless threads instantly spread across the surface of the oil-paper umbrella and shot out—some wrapping around joints, others piercing flesh to latch onto bones.
He let out a low chuckle, then stood up and turned around. The killing intent in his eyes was almost tangible.
"Now then… slaughter to your heart's content, trash."
"What's going on?!"
The two Grass ninja holding kunai suddenly felt their bodies slip out of their control. Before they could react, their hands drove the kunai toward their companions' throats. No matter how desperately they tried to pull back, all they could do was slow the inevitable thrust.