Looks Strong

"...This can't be a dream, can it? Ashes is actually attacking our Grass Village..."

The Grass ninja's voices trembled, cold sweat seeping into the palms gripping their weapons. Someone pinched himself hard, hoping to wake from this nightmare.

"D-Don't panic! It might just be an impostor using the Transformation Jutsu!"

"But that ninjutsu... it's exactly like the technique from the rumors that destroyed Konoha's gates..."

Fear spread through the crowd, accompanied by doubt. After all, why would that legendary existence appear in such a small village?

The leading Jonin swallowed and forced himself to step forward. His legs were weakening, but he had no choice but to speak.

"Y-Your Excellency, who exactly are you? Why have you invaded the Grass Village? This is an act of war!"

He prayed desperately in his heart. Please, let him be a fake... or even an illusion or a nightmare! Why did I have to run into something like this?!

"Ashes Menma."

Those three brief words made the lead ninja's knees buckle, and he nearly collapsed to the ground. He clenched his teeth and forced himself to continue negotiating.

"I-I understand... but... as far as I know, Ashes' goal is to prevent war through military deterrence... Our Grass Village hasn't been involved in any diplomatic conflicts recently..."

Menma tilted his head slightly, his gaze sweeping coldly over the crowd from behind his mask. "...Of course. If you intend to start a war... then you should know what happened before."

The threat in his words was unmistakable. Everyone recalled the intelligence from the rumors—the fate of the Hidden Cloud delegation.

"So this is merely a warning deterrence." Menma slowly raised a hand. "At least... I haven't taken anyone's life yet."

"Then... what exactly is Your Excellency's purpose..."

The lead Jonin's voice was dry as sandpaper.

"The Uzumaki Clan bloodline."

The answer instantly froze the air. All color drained from the Jonin's face.

"...What?"

"Your village is hiding an Uzumaki mother and daughter." Menma's voice emerged from behind the mask, carrying unquestionable pressure. "Hand them over. Do as I say, and no one needs to die today."

Uzumaki bloodline?! The Jonin's mind raced wildly. How had such classified information leaked? Could Ashes' lackeys have already infiltrated the village?

He suddenly remembered a rumor—when Ashes first appeared, they had taken away a ninja from the Hyuga Clan. Now they were targeting Uzumaki clansmen... Could this organization be collecting Kekkei Genkai?

A commotion began among the Grass ninja. Whispers spread like a plague.

"What kind of joke is this..."

"They're our medical packs..."

"What are we supposed to do when we get hurt on missions without them..."

Every face was filled with resistance. Ever since acquiring that mother and daughter, the Grass ninja had no more worries when carrying out missions—if they were injured, they only needed to bite them once, and they would heal in the blink of an eye. They had already tasted the sweetness of such convenience.

And now they had to give them up? Cutting off someone's source of profit was like killing their parents.

Gradually, the looks in some Grass ninja's eyes began to change. Once the seed of doubt was planted, it would take root and sprout.

"Maybe..."

"What if he's a fake..."

"Anyone can wear that mask..."

They exchanged glances, reaching a silent consensus. Perhaps... this "Menma" before them was merely an impostor coveting the Uzumaki bloodline?

Menma silently watched the agitated Grass ninja before him. Their murmured exchanges, their increasingly vicious gazes—they were using greed to persuade themselves and profit to numb their fear.

"It seems... some people don't want this to end simply."

The Grass ninja froze for a moment, before they could react.

A tangible killing intent erupted without warning, pouring from Menma like a tide of blackness and instantly drowning the entire area. The air seemed to solidify; even breathing became a luxury.

Fear descended.

The Grass ninja standing in the front row suddenly had his legs give out and fell straight to his knees. His pupils shrank to pinpoints, and the scene before him began to distort—he saw his chest pierced by a black spiral, his organs shredded, blood gushing from his mouth.

"Ugh... ughah..."

He wanted to scream, but it was as if an invisible hand had seized his throat. All he could produce was a strangled whimper.

The ninja beside him was in even worse shape. His crotch suddenly grew wet, warm liquid running down his thighs, but he had no time to care about such humiliation—because images of himself being beheaded kept flashing before his eyes, his head rolling to the ground while he watched his headless body slowly collapse.

"No... don't..."

Some began dry-heaving uncontrollably. Others clawed madly at their own faces, trying to wake from the hallucinations.

Even the leading Jonin stood frozen in place, his teeth chattering violently. Though his reason told him it was all an illusion, his body believed it completely.

If we fight... we'll die... we'll really die...

His knees slammed heavily into the ground, and he gasped violently like a dying fish. Cold sweat soaked his back, his heart pounding so frantically it felt ready to burst.

Under the shroud of that killing intent, everyone saw their own most miserable deaths. Some were burned into charred corpses, some torn to pieces, and others had their Chakra forcibly drained until they became dried husks...

Most terrifying of all, they could clearly feel it—this was probably not a threat or intimidation, but a prophecy.

Menma slowly took a step forward. The Grass ninja frantically retreated like a disturbed swarm of ants, some even collapsing and rolling across the ground when their legs gave out.

"Now." His voice was especially clear in the dead silence. "No one wants meaningless sacrifices, right?"

No one dared answer.

No one dared breathe.

Before such absolute fear, even thinking became a luxury.

This skill was really useful.

Menma silently praised the system's reward in his heart. The effect of "Top-tier Pressure" far exceeded expectations—those Grass ninja who had been eager to make a move just moments ago now had exceptionally "clear" eyes.

Still, he had to put on the full act.

He slowly raised his hand, palm upward. Black Chakra seeped out like viscous liquid, twisting and winding through the air before gradually condensing into a hair-raising sphere.

Rasenshuriken.

An ominous dark gleam flowed over the sphere's surface, while the surrounding air emitted faint crackling pops from energy overload. Sparks of Chakra occasionally splashed onto the ground, instantly punching honeycomb-like holes into it.

"Ten minutes."

Menma's voice was terrifyingly calm.

"Bring the Uzumaki clansmen here. Otherwise..."

He tilted his palm slightly, allowing the black sphere to slowly spin at his fingertips.

"When I come looking myself—the Grass Village will vanish from the map forever."

Those words were like a basin of ice water poured over the stunned Grass ninja. They stared in terror at the light-devouring sphere and finally accepted reality completely.

"Quick! Bring that woman and her daughter here!"

The leading Jonin screamed himself hoarse, his voice cracking.

"Now! Immediately! At once! Everyone, move!"