Every punch of Morning Peacock struck Kabuto's body-his sternum, collarbones, ribs, shoulder blades, and spine.
The bone tissue at every point of impact shattered under the force, the cracks merging into a dense, sharp rattle in the operating room, like hail striking a tin roof.
But Kabuto did not fall.
Bone showed at the bottom of every one of the dozens of fist-shaped wounds Morning Peacock had left across his chest and back-not white bone, but black.
His bones had changed color after the Divine Plant Technique activated, shifting from their normal milky white to the same lightless, deep black as the crystals at the God Tree's roots.
The edges of the shattered bone fragments were not sharp and jagged, but blunt and rounded. They began growing the instant they broke, like severed earthworms sprouting new tissue at their cut ends.
Even as Guy shattered his bones, they regenerated at a speed visible to the naked eye. The interval between destruction and regeneration kept shrinking.
The sternum shattered by the first punch took nearly a second to regenerate. The collarbone shattered by the second regrew in only half a second. From the third punch onward, destruction and regeneration occurred almost simultaneously.
The faster Guy punched, the faster Kabuto regenerated.
By the time all the punches of Morning Peacock had landed, almost no intact skin remained on Kabuto's upper body, but every bone was whole.
His black bones lay exposed to the air, their surfaces coated in an extremely thin, translucent black membrane-the chakra secretion layer formed by God Tree cells on the bones.
Each rib pulsed faintly beneath the membrane, its rhythm perfectly synchronized with the bead at the back of Kabuto's neck.
"It's useless." Kabuto lowered his head to examine his chest, blasted open by Morning Peacock.
As he