The Land of Iron, Snowfield.
A vast, silvery expanse unfolded to the end of the horizon, and snowflakes drifted continuously from the lead-colored sky.
They fell upon the black rocks, the withered branches, and the single living thing in that wilderness.
It was a tall, burly man with dark skin.
He had eight blades strapped diagonally across his waist, and the posture of his walk carried a hippie-like, carefree rhythm, while he hummed a tune that lacked any real melody.
Yo, winning a big prize early in the morning, a fisherman's luck won't be too bad...
Killer B's voice stopped abruptly.
He halted his steps, his gaze landing on the black figure beneath the withered tree ahead. That person wore a dark robe with black hair hanging down, and a pair of scarlet Sharingan gazed at him calmly. The drifting snow left not the slightest trace on that figure, as though the flakes automatically avoided the space a few feet around him whenever they neared.
"Uchiha brat?" Killer B grinned, reaching out to draw two blades from his waist. "Are you here to throw your life away, or are you looking to die?"
Sasuke did not speak. He merely took a slow step forward.
The next instant, Killer B's figure vanished from where he stood. His speed was extreme, leaving a trailing afterimage across the Snowfield. His body twisted in a bizarre posture as seven blades slashed toward Sasuke simultaneously from every conceivable angle. The Acrobat was Killer B's self-created ninja sword style, relying on a range of joint movement that exceeded human limits to make his sword paths completely unpredictable. Those seven blades resembled seven living snakes, attacking from the top of the head, the side of the waist, beside the neck, the legs, the upper back, the shoulders,