Raijin

Black Zetsu's already gloomy face darkened further, as if dense dark clouds had gathered over it. His expression could not have been uglier.

For what lay before him was unmistakably the unique and mysterious energy system of Miroku, the priestess of the Land of Demons.

Clearly, the priestess had long been prepared, laying an inescapable net and waiting for them to take the bait.

Even more troublesome, she understood Hidan's bizarre ability so thoroughly.

Senyo, wearing Itachi's face, had already found Hidan's bloody, mangled head among the severed limbs that had been sent flying.

After suffering such a devastating blow, Hidan was a pitiful sight. His face was drenched crimson with blood, while his jaw and mouth had been smashed to pieces, as though struck by a heavy hammer.

Yet even in such a miserable state, Hidan stubbornly remained alive.

His eyes bulged with savagery and violence as his mouth opened and closed, as though he were desperately trying to say something.

Unfortunately, his injuries were too severe. Not only had he lost his throat, but even making the faintest sound had become an impossible hope.

"You're Black Zetsu, aren't you?"

Senyo, wearing Itachi's face, stared straight at Black Zetsu and asked.

Though it was phrased as a question, his tone was exceptionally certain.

In truth, the moment someone saw through the fact that he was not the real Hiruko, Black Zetsu had already expected this to some extent.

After all, Hiruko was not skilled in combat to begin with. Being exposed was understandable enough.

What surprised Black Zetsu, however, was that his true identity had been seen through so easily in such a short time.

Faced with Itachi's—Senyo's—questioning, Black Zetsu did not answer. He merely raised his head slightly and looked into the distance beyond Konoha City.

Then, he