A Clap of the Hand

Tsunade's entire body jolted, the alcohol in her system instantly evaporated by the sudden surge of chakra.

The Yin Seal on her forehead flared with a sudden, eerie light.

At that same moment, the casino doors were kicked open with a thunderous bang.

A man covered in blood stumbled inside, slamming his back against the door to bolt it shut.

"Extinguish the lights, quickly!"

He roared, blood dripping from his brow and snaking across the wooden floor.

The casino fell into instant chaos as several waitresses screamed and knocked over the candle stands.

Seeing the blood on the man, Tsunade felt a wave of dizziness, and the color on her forehead began to fade.

"Lady Tsunade, are you alright?"

Seeing her condition, Shizune quickly steadied the swaying Tsunade and helped her sit down.

"I'm fine... damn it!"

Tsunade shook her head and cursed under her breath.

Up ahead, several gamblers had already surrounded the blood-stained man, asking anxiously.

"Harada, what on earth is happening outside?"

The man named Harada slumped to the floor, his face deathly pale, his expression one of lingering fear.

"I don't know, it looks like a mutiny—so many people have died!"

The crowd gasped in unison upon hearing this.

"Lady Tsunade, what should we do?"

Shizune clutched Tonton, looking at Tsunade with unease.

Tsunade closed her eyes, forcing down the surging vertigo, and took a deep breath, her voice low and restrained.

"Let's go upstairs to our room first; this is not our affair to interfere with."

"Kill!"

The once decadent Magistrate Office had now devolved into an Asura field, the sky dyed blood-red by towering flames as cries of battle echoed through the courtyard like thunder.

In the courtyard, Dongfang Mao strode forward in black armor, his body stained with blood, his long blade transforming into silver lightning.

As the blade flashed, several guards were decapitated before they could even raise a defense, their spraying blood tracing tragic, beautiful arcs through the firelight.

Behind him, the New Martial Army surged forward like a raging tide.

These warriors, once refugees, had bloodlust in their eyes, their weapons gleaming with a chilling cold.

The sharp crack of armor shattering under spear thrusts and the dull thud of flesh parting under war blades wove together into a symphony of death within the courtyard.

Though the Magistrate Office guards held the numerical advantage, they were forced into a steady retreat before this New Martial Army, which had undergone two and a half months of devilish training.

Finally pushed to the vermilion palace doors, the guards had nowhere left to run, their backs against the wood, their trembling hands barely able to grip their weapons.

"Drop your weapons! Those who resist will die!"

The blood-drenched Dongfang Mao took a step forward, beads of blood rolling off his black armor with the movement.

His sharp gaze made the guards feel as if a cold blade were tracing their spines, the pressure nearly suffocating.

"Clang!"

Finally, one long blade hit the ground. Then came a second, a third... the sound of metal striking stone rang out in succession.

The guards, faces ashen, retreated to either side to clear a path to the vermilion doors, then knelt one after another.

Dongfang Mao waved his hand, and the New Martial Army immediately stepped forward to disarm and detain the prisoners.

He strode forward, stepping over the scattered weapons, and paused slightly before the vermilion doors.

"Creak!"

The doors swung open with a boom, revealing a scene of utter ruin inside; tables and chairs were overturned, and fine delicacies were scattered across the floor.

In the corner, several dancing girls huddled together, trembling uncontrollably.

Dongfang Mao signaled with his eyes, and several soldiers immediately stepped forward to drag one of the dancers out.

"Tell me, where is the Magistrate?"

The dancer's face was as white as paper, her eyes filled with terror as she tremblingly pointed toward the area behind the curtains.

Just as Dongfang Mao was about to nod, a sudden, intense sense of crisis surged in his heart. Without a second thought, he lunged to the side.

The moment he landed, two loud booms rang out as two water bullets slammed into the spot where he had just been standing.

The dancer, unable to dodge in time, was instantly blasted into a spray of blood and gore, a sight too gruesome to behold.

Dongfang Mao looked at the blood on the ground, his brow furrowing, before looking up to see two men in ninja combat gear crouching on the rafters.

They wore headbands marked with the symbol of Kirigakure, though a deep kunai scratch ran horizontally across the center of each.

"Missing-nin from Kirigakure? Are they being sheltered and funded by the City Deputy?"

Dongfang Mao thought to himself. Judging by the chakra signatures of the two Water Release ninjutsu just unleashed, both of these ninjas were likely at the level of Chunin, which made his expression turn grave.

At his side, the New Martial Army fanned out, gripping their long blades and standing in strict formation.

"You two, why not just retreat? Whatever the City Deputy is paying you, I can match it."

Dongfang Mao was a ninja himself now, so he no longer felt the same trepidation toward them as he once had, but he did not want any unnecessary complications and decided to test the waters with a proposal.

"Heh, we take the coin, we do the job. We—"

One of the ninjas, whose face was marred by a jagged scar and a hideous expression, grinned to reveal a row of sharp, shark-like teeth. Before he could finish his sentence, a massive fireball swept toward him.

"Bastard, I wasn't finished talking!"

The scarred ninja's expression shifted, and with a curse, he scrambled to leap off the rafters.

However, just as he was about to land, a thick earthen wall erupted from the ground, catching him off guard and sending him flying backward.

Seeing this, the scarred ninja's companion reacted instantly, leaping down from the rafters with a kunai glinting coldly in his hand, thrusting directly at Dongfang Mao.

"You lot, go hold off that scarred ninja! I'll deal with this one first."

Dongfang Mao shouted to the New Martial Army behind him, then sidestepped the thrust and countered with a downward slash. The kunai and blade collided, the sharp ring of clashing steel vibrating through the air.

The immense strength inherent to the Senju clan surged through the blade, and the Mist ninja felt his hand go numb, his kunai nearly flying from his grip.

"You're a taijutsu specialist too?"

The red-haired Mist ninja looked on in disbelief, but the only response he received was a lightning-fast, thunderous kick from Dongfang Mao.

"BOOM!"

With a deafening crash, the sole of Dongfang Mao's boot sank deep into the red-haired ninja's abdomen.

The powerful impact sent the ninja flying like a kite with a broken string. He smashed through the screen behind him, and amidst a spray of wood splinters, he slammed into the scattered, ruined feast, curling into a ball of agony.

Just as Dongfang Mao prepared to move in for the finishing blow, a surge of powerful chakra swept toward him from the side.

"Water Release: Water Dragon Bullet Technique!"

The scarred ninja had managed to shake off the New Martial Army and found an opening to unleash a ninjutsu against him.

It seemed that relying solely on the current New Martial Army to stall a Chunin was somewhat unrealistic.

The speed of a ninja was simply not something these armored, somewhat cumbersome soldiers could keep up with.

Watching the massive water dragon surging toward him, Dongfang Mao tried to dodge, but it was already too late.

It seemed he had no choice but to take the hit head-on. Although the power of this B-rank ninjutsu was not to be underestimated, with his physique and self-healing abilities, he might just be able to survive it.

But just as the water dragon was about to descend, and a sense of intense crisis intertwined with his instincts, the chakra within Dongfang Mao suddenly began to flow violently, like a rushing river.

In a flash of lightning, his temples throbbed, as if a bolt of electricity had split his chaotic consciousness, and his hands moved on their own, slamming together in front of his chest.

The moment his palms met, the chakra that usually required complex hand seals to manifest gathered in an instant.

Scorching fire-attribute chakra, wrapped in vigorous Yang energy, intertwined frantically between his palms.

"Fire Release: Great Flame Bullet Technique!"

Dongfang Mao roared, his cheeks puffing out as a giant fireball containing destructive power erupted, wreathed in rolling heat waves that caused the very air to crackle and pop in its wake.