Land of Iron, Snowfield.
A vast, silver-clad wilderness stretched to the horizon, snowflakes continuously drifting down from the lead-gray sky.
They landed on black rocks, withered yellow branches, and the only living creature in this wilderness.
A tall, burly, dark-skinned middle-aged man.
Eight blades hung diagonally at his waist. He walked with the carefree rhythm of a hippie, humming an off-key rap under his breath.
"Yo, hit the jackpot early in the morning, a fisherman's luck can't be all that bad..."
Killer B's voice suddenly stopped.
He halted, his gaze falling on the black figure beneath a dead tree ahead. The man wore a dark robe, his black hair hanging loose, his scarlet Sharingan calmly watching him. The raging snowstorm left not a trace upon him, as though the snowflakes automatically veered away the moment they came within several feet of him.
"An Uchiha brat?" Killer B grinned and drew two blades from his waist. "Are you here to die, or here looking for death?"
Sasuke said nothing. He merely took a slow step forward.
The next instant, Killer B vanished from where he stood. He moved with incredible speed, leaving an afterimage across the Snowfield. His body twisted into an odd posture as seven blades slashed toward Sasuke simultaneously from every angle. Acrobat—Killer B's self-created sword style—relied on joint movements beyond the limits of the human body, making its blade paths impossible to predict. The seven blades came like seven living serpents, striking from above, his waist, beside his neck, his legs, his back, his shoulders, and directly in front of him, nearly sealing off every avenue of evasion.
Yet Sasuke did not dodge.
The intricate scarlet light in his Sharingan slowly turned, the Mangekyō pattern exceptionally clear amid the snowstorm. The trajectories of the seven blades slowed countless