Your Apology Makes Me Sick

Drip... drip...

Taking advantage of the faint moonlight filtering in through the door, the Mist Capital clenched the kunai in his hand, his pupils trembling slightly as he sized up the boy before him.

Even clad in a sharp black trench coat, with an unchanging expression, black bandages covering his eyes, and a cold, shimmering aura, he couldn't hide the raw, youthful essence in his bones.

When he heard the other call out his name, the Mist Capital felt as though his teeth had been hollowed out, his entire body aching with a bone-deep, unsettling soreness.

"This brat... just who is he?"

The Mist Capital racked his brain, wondering if he had ever seen him before, but he had absolutely no memory or impression.

He had great confidence in his memory and judgment. If he wasn't mistaken, this boy before him was the same age as his own son, left behind in the Land of Fire.

Four years old, at most five.

A boy of such a tender age, yet carrying a cold, sinister aura completely at odds with his youthful appearance—he probably had more blood on his hands than the Mist Capital himself.

The Mist Capital instinctively thought of those samurai raised from childhood as Lord's death warriors, but even those soulless, walking corpses weren't this cold.

And also...

"When exactly did I get exposed, and how?"

The Mist Capital's expression darkened, and as he asked, his gaze began to flicker.

He had entered the city with a clean identity, lain low for months without detecting anything unusual, and remained still without making a single move...

Could there be surveillance methods he hadn't discovered, or some other, more covert measures? Or had some unexpected accident occurred that he hadn't anticipated?

However, a big part of why the Mist Capital had survived one infiltration mission after another was that he never believed in accidents.

Since he was now completely exposed, this mission was likely impossible to complete. The only option left was to force his way out.

With that thought, the Mist Capital's finger muscles tensed, gripping the kunai tightly as chakra flowed within his body.

"Your acting really is impressive."

Nagato suddenly spoke, sneering. "But those counter-surveillance setups in your home—the hair placed in the door crack, the ash scattered at the entrance... you've done shady things, and you're feeling guilty."

Before the words had even finished, the Mist Capital clasped his hands together, his fingers rapidly forming seals.

Snake! Boar! Dog!

He formed the hand signs for his most proficient ninjutsu, his fingers moving so fast they left afterimages.

Then, he slammed his palm against the ground, followed by a deafening roar that echoed through the entire warehouse and the rainy night:

"Earth Release: Swamp of the Underworld!"

Crack, crack, crack!!

Dirt and stone chips burst up from the ground, but the next moment, reality was completely different from what he had shouted.

With a thunderous "boom," a thick stone wall abruptly rose from the earth, instantly surrounding Nagato on all sides!

Bang!!

At the same time as he formed his seals—or rather, as he spoke—Nagato slightly crouched.

With a dim, dark flash, his entire figure burst forward.

"Such explosive speed!"

The Mist Capital's pupils sharply contracted, thinking, "Was he not affected at all?"

The process of a ninja releasing a "jutsu" involves different types of chakra flowing through fixed acupoints in different ways.

Any slight mistake could cause the jutsu to fail or weaken, wasting chakra for nothing.

And since ordinary ninjas can't perfectly control chakra flow, they rely on "hand seals" as an aid, converting refined chakra into a jutsu before releasing it.

Shouting it out also helps focus the mind and gather energy.

Thus, many ninjas have the habit of yelling out their jutsu names, and many also instinctively react to such calls.

Earth Release: Earth Flow Wall.

This was the Mist Capital's most practiced jutsu, so much so that he no longer needed hand seals for it, and at full power, it rivaled large-scale techniques.

When an ordinary ninja heard "Earth Release: Swamp of the Underworld," their instinctive reaction would be to leap and dodge, thereby losing their only chance to pursue him.

But his usually foolproof method of disruption meant nothing to that brat.

"It's fine."

The Mist Capital's hands rapidly formed seals, his eyes locked on the distance. "Whether he breaks through the stone wall or leaps over it, he'll have to slow down, and once he slows down..."

As he pondered, chakra fluctuations appeared around him, like the air distortion caused by intense heat.

Then, like ink dripping into an ink bottle, he gradually turned transparent and vanished into the shadows.

"Bloodline Limit: Invisibility Release!"

As long as he fully activated the bloodline ability of "Invisibility Release," unless they tore down the entire city, he would eventually find a chance to escape successfully.

A faint smirk curled at the corner of his mouth as the Mist Capital retreated into the darkness.

But just then—

Puchi!!

The wind howled, kicking up dust from the ground. Mist Capital only felt a sudden, sharp pain in his abdomen.

Before he could react, his entire body flew backward, only stopping when he slammed into the wall behind him.

Blood bloomed like an ephemeral flower on the wall, slowly trickling down.

His jutsu was interrupted, and Mist Capital's form became visible, pinned to the wall.

"Pfft!"

Mist Capital coughed up a mouthful of blood. All his strength seemed to drain away in an instant. His lips trembling slightly, he looked down at the source of the searing pain in his abdomen.

There, a cold short blade jutted out from his stomach, its body stained with bright red blood and fragments of internal organs.

"How... is this possible?"

The smile on Mist Capital's lips stiffened, a look of bewilderment spreading across his face.

How had that brat managed to see through a stone wall, spot him when he was completely transparent and invisible, then throw a short blade to pin him down?!

In the distance, Nagato stood atop that stone wall. His eyes, covered by a strip of black cloth, seemed to look down upon Mist Capital below.

"Enjoy playing hide-and-seek with a blind man?"

"But that stench of your Chakra—I can smell it even from hundreds of meters away."

A hint of mockery crept into his tone. In the blink of an eye, he was in front of Mist Capital, staring at that pale, dazed old face. He reached out, grabbed the hilt of the blade, and twisted it hard.

"Ahhh!!"

The agony of his internal organs being churned tore a scream from Mist Capital. The true, uncontrollable pain erupted, directly interrupting his secret attempt to refine Chakra.

All his strength leaked out through that wound, along with his former confidence and composure.

The scream pierced through several floors, drifting out the window into the night sky, lingering without end.

The hollow feeling of a failed mission, the fear of blood flowing...

And that wave of regret he had deliberately ignored before, now surging like a tidal flood.

"No, no..."

Staring at the executioner before him, Mist Capital's lips trembled uncontrollably. His teeth chattering, his mind already dazed, he muttered instinctively: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

Who exactly was he apologizing to?

The old comrades he had come to treat as friends? Or Yun Chuan, who had given him a chance?

The life he had here... it was actually really good.

He couldn't even tell anymore whether he was hiding or deliberately ignoring his mission.

If only he could, he would have loved to stay here, live, start a family, have children...

But it was already too late.

"Boring." Looking at his pathetic state, Nagato spat out coldly. "The other guy was just like you—kept apologizing before he died."

"But apologies like that make me sick."

Puchi!!

Amid Mist Capital's hoarse, agonized scream, Nagato mercilessly pulled the short blade out, inch by inch.

Blood splattered across the wall, staining the ukiyo-e painting, turning it into a red-cloud sea of blood like a scene from hell.