The Monster Reborn at This Moment

The torrential rain poured down over the forests on the border of the Land of Fire, mixing with mud and blood as it flowed silently away.

In a clearing within the woods, the corpses of ninjas lay scattered in disarray. Crows perched upon the surrounding trees, their shrill, cawing cries filling the air as they watched the bodies with greedy eyes, seemingly waiting for the downpour to cease so they could feast. From time to time, an impatient crow would swoop down to peck at the remains.

In the Warring States period that had only recently come to an end, such a scene was commonplace. Yet, in the newly inaugurated era of hidden villages, this brutal sight seemed to portend that the peace many ninjas longed for had arrived—or perhaps, it had not arrived at all.

The corpses strewn across the ground wore expressions of hideous distortion, their eyes still holding traces of intense terror, as if they had witnessed something monstrous and inhuman. Their fatal wounds were uniform: wooden spikes as thick as a bowl had pierced their bodies—some through the abdomen, some through the chest, others through the head—pinning them to the earth, to trees, or to stones.

The scene was both eerie and exceptionally cruel.

At the center of their encirclement, a human-shaped figure carved of wood stood silently. The wooden figure was riddled with gashes from kunai, shuriken, and ninja blades, while ninja tools lay scattered all around it.

Not long ago, a fierce skirmish—or rather, an ambush and assassination attempt—had taken place here.

These corpses wore the headbands of Takigakure. There were eleven of them in total, mimicking the structure of Konoha, the first village to pioneer the era of hidden villages. They were organized into standard four-man squads: one jonin leading three chunin subordinates, totaling three squads. This lineup possessed enough strength to challenge even a village Kage, yet they had ended up almost completely wiped out. It seemed only one had managed to escape with his life...

No, there was one more...

Amidst the heavy rain, the fingers of a girl's corpse, pinned to the trunk of a giant tree by a wooden stake, twitched slightly. A crow that had been pecking at her body seemed to notice the anomaly; it paused in suspicion, eyeing the Takigakure corpse, its scarlet bird-eyes reflecting her form.

She was roughly twelve years old, young and beautiful, with a sweet face and a slim, petite frame. On the surface, she looked delicate and harmless, but this had not earned her any mercy from her enemies; instead, a wooden stake protruded straight through her abdomen.

Rainwater mixed with blood dripped from her dainty chin, her fair skin, and her mangled midsection. Such a fatal injury should have been impossible to survive—unless one was no longer human.

Suddenly, as her eyelids fluttered, she awoke as if from a deep slumber. A pair of eyes, scarlet as gemstones, snapped open. Instantly, the crows perched upon her body sensed the abnormality; they shrieked and took flight, scattering in every direction. At that moment, a peal of thunder shook the heavens, and a flash of pale lightning illuminated her bewitching face.

She had already died, but now she seemed to have returned from the depths of hell. Her scarlet eyes scanned the surroundings with indifference before she slowly lowered her head to gaze at the wound where the wooden stake had pierced her abdomen. In her mind, memories of her previous life churned incessantly.

A series of keywords were extracted and highlighted.

The ninja world, the Warring States period, the God of Shinobi Senju Hashirama founding the era of hidden villages, the third year of Konoha, Takigakure, the mission to assassinate Senju Hashirama, Naruto, the legend of the eyes...

The corners of her mouth twitched, pulling into a look of absurd, astonished amusement.

She had reincarnated into the ninja world, living in a daze for sixteen years, joining Takigakure with her family. As a cannon-fodder chunin with unremarkable talent, she had been forced into the village's mission to assassinate the God of Shinobi.

Of the three jonin who had accompanied her, the one who had managed to escape was named Kakuzu.

She couldn't help but look up, her gaze falling upon the lonely Wood Clone standing in the clearing, her mind reeling with the memories of encountering it before her death.

They had stumbled upon a Wood Clone of the God of Shinobi, Senju Hashirama. The twelve of them had exhausted every ounce of their strength, yet they could not overcome it. With a single clap of his hands, half of them had died in an instant. Kakuzu had sensed the danger and fled in a panic. After the rest were wiped out, the opponent had calmly dispelled the scouting Wood Clone.

"How utterly speechless I am..."

She reached out weakly, laboriously pulling herself off the wooden stake bit by bit. As her body detached from the wood created by the Wood Release, she fell lightly from the tree over ten meters high. With a soft thud, she stood up, swaying unsteadily.

The surrounding crows heard the movement and scattered with frantic cries, not daring to approach, watching the movements of this unnatural monster from the shadows of the forest.

Her current state was very strange. She was undoubtedly dead, yet the Pure Land had no place for her. As an outsider, she seemed unable to go there, like a wandering ghost lingering in the mortal realm, or a resurrected demon. Her wretched physical state compelled her to act on instinct.

Walking with a weak, swaying gait, she bent down to pick up the sword she had carried in life.

It was a small katana forged of fine steel. The moment she gripped it, she instinctively activated the power she had awakened after death. Her own soul was drawn out continuously, taking residence within the blade.

Almost immediately, as her soul left her body, the corpse-like emptiness and weakness faded away like a receding tide. In its place, a strange, eerie power flowed from the katana back into her body. Though still weak, it was exceptionally potent.

This was something no ninja could ever achieve; it was the power of a demon evolved from the absorption of resentment.

Now, she was no longer human; she was a demon.

Feeling her body return to normal, even with a mangled, gaping hole in her stomach, she lowered her head to stare blankly at the small katana in her hand—her true vessel. As her thoughts stirred, her ear-length black hair grew wildly, transforming into long tresses that floated and danced in the windless rain like an octopus. She couldn't help but murmur aloud.

"Strange. In my past life, the last thing I watched was Yura of the Demon Hair fighting Inuyasha, and Kagome was there too. Why didn't I awaken the power of Inuyasha, but rather the power of Yura?"

She couldn't figure it out...

"Forget it. At least it's not the Mukade Demoness. Compared to Inuyasha's half-demon body, this is at least a legitimate demon."

Although Yura wasn't a particularly powerful great demon, she was considered formidable among lesser demons. As a hair-demon born from absorbing resentment, she possessed only three abilities, but as a demon, she was naturally stronger than any mortal.

The first was Hair Control. As her signature skill, she possessed the innate talent to control any strand of hair; in a sense, it was equivalent to the String-String Fruit.

The second was Ghost Fire. As a demoness who manipulated hair, she also possessed a special ability to conjure flames to incinerate her enemies. The temperature was high enough to roast an opponent until not even bone fragments remained—a true specialty, in a sense equivalent to the Flame-Flame Fruit.

The third was Immortality. Her body possessed immense endurance; even if her limbs were severed or her heart pierced and abdomen torn, she could move as freely as if nothing had happened. She felt no pain, and as long as her main body remained intact, she would not die regardless of the damage sustained.

With just this immortality, she could become incredibly troublesome and difficult to deal with in this ninja world.

Possessing such power, even in this cruel world, was enough to feel secure.

Moreover, this wasn't just simple immortality; as a demon, it was eternal youth and life.

As this thought crossed her mind, she couldn't help but gasp, drawing in a sharp breath. She clenched her fist, a crazed smile blooming on her lips, one she could not suppress no matter how hard she tried.

The transmigrator's standard cheat had arrived; what came next was...

She looked up, rainwater dripping from the thick bangs over her forehead, her scarlet eyes fixed on the Wood Clone of Senju Hashirama before her.

It was the third year of Konoha. The God of Shinobi was still alive, Uchiha Madara had already left Konoha, and the Five Great Nations had been established one after another over these three years. The long-turbulent ninja world had entered a rare period of peace, which would last until the eighteenth year of Konoha, when the First Shinobi World War would erupt.

She raised her hand, pulled a kunai from her ninja pouch, and with the strength of her demonic body, hurled it. It transformed into a black streak of light, burying itself deep into the center of the Wood Clone's forehead.

She turned sharply and walked away.

The first step: return to Takigakure, seize the Earth Grudge Fear technique and the Hero Water, then choose one of the Five Great Nations to join and lie in wait, accumulating power. Konoha was absolutely out of the question; Hashirama was still alive and had seen her face.

Now that the Five Great Nations were newly founded, every village was desperate for manpower to expand their strength. Furthermore, since the villages were in the early stages of creation and their systems were chaotic, they were essentially accepting anyone who came. It was the perfect time to infiltrate.

"Since I am bidding farewell to my past self, from this day forward, my name is Yura, Yura of the Demon Hair..."

In the forest, under the pouring rain, a figure slowly walked away. As the wild, black hair behind her danced, it rapidly retracted into a short, ear-length bob until the figure vanished into the darkness of the woods.

On this unremarkable afternoon, unknown to anyone, the ninja world remained unaware that a true demon had just been born.

Wait...

A crow that had just landed on a treetop sensed terror and danger, letting out a shrill cry as it flew away in a panicked flock. Within the darkness of the forest, a figure could be seen rushing back.

Yura returned to the battlefield and began to silently, tearfully "loot" her fallen companions. Kunai, shuriken, sealing scrolls, and banknotes—everything was stuffed into her pockets. As she worked diligently, a sweet smile bloomed on her delicate, oval face, and she hummed a cheerful tune.

"They fed me rat poison~"

"After two bags, I feel so high~"

"The taste is not bad~ it really hits the brain~"

"Before I can even struggle twice, my little life is about to be thrown away~"

"Everyone here hates me~ despises me~"

"I'm just struggling to make a living~ there's nothing wrong with that~"

Humming her song, she finished cleaning up the battlefield. With a bountiful harvest, Yura took light, skipping steps and danced away once more.

Three days later, outside a small town on the border of the Land of Fire, the Warring States period had ended, but the strife of ninjas had not. The ninja world was still filled with countless rogue ninjas, clan shinobi, and large-scale bands of samurai-turned-bandits.

Especially with the establishment of the "One Country, One Village" system, the annexation of smaller nations by the Five Great Nations, and the daimyo's abolition of the samurai class, this era was three times more cruel than the Warring States period. Countless families were broken and displaced; looting was rampant and nearly impossible to eradicate, remaining much the same even sixty years later.

Thus, running into bandits while traveling was not a rare occurrence; this was already the third time in three days.

But this time was different. A group of over forty ronin was attacking the town. Amidst the shouts of battle and the wails of the dying at the gate, the town's able-bodied men were putting up a resistance.

Yura stood quietly in the air not far away, perched on a single strand of hair stretched between two trees as if standing on thin air. She watched the slaughter below without the slightest intention of intervening.

It was strange; despite being so close—only four or five meters away—not a single person noticed Yura.

This was not a demon art of invisibility, nor was it a ninjutsu. As an anomalous demon, Yura simply did not exist in the eyes of ordinary people.

Along the way, Yura had long since discovered this.

It wasn't that they couldn't see her; it was that their subconscious minds refused to see her. They could not look directly at her, nor did they want to. It was a natural suppression of life levels, rendering them unable to perceive her existence.

Unless Yura took the initiative to appear and greet them, breaking this state, they would remain oblivious to her presence.

In a way, this was a "low presence" even more transcendent than that of the Aburame Clan.

Or, if the opponent possessed spiritual power like the priestess Kikyo, they might be able to see through her. Japanese demons were like this—naturally invisible to others. In this ninja world, it remained to be seen what kind of ninja could detect her; it would require testing.

Yura lingered here, watching the carnage, simply because she was feeding.

What do demons eat to grow strong? The answer is humans—human flesh and blood. But Yura was not that kind of unrefined demon.

Resentment, fear, hatred, jealousy, shame, loneliness, sorrow, despair, malice, emptiness, helplessness—all the dark, negative emotions in the human heart were the nourishment Yura used to strengthen herself.

As a demon, Yura could keenly perceive these emotions, the spiritual energy derived from the soul, and absorb them naturally.

As she absorbed this spiritual energy, the demon's self-healing ability activated silently. The gruesome hole in her abdomen caused by the Wood Release had gradually healed over these three days, revealing a fair, soft stomach beneath her tattered clothes.

Yura could perceive the changes in herself—not just in her body, but in her soul. It was the instinct of an evil demon, a greedy, wicked nature, a personality that was sinister, ruthless, and bloodthirsty—a stark contrast to the slightly timid girl she had been in life.

Deep within her scarlet eyes, a dark, blood-red hue surged and churned.

Yura watched the slaughter quietly, a bloodthirsty yet elegant smile of amusement on her face. She did not reject these changes. The memories of holding a kunai on the battlefield at age four, struggling time and again on the brink of death, were still vivid, as if they had happened yesterday. The cruel experiences of her past life told her that in this world, being a ghost was far more relaxed and pleasant than being a human.

Ninjas, after all, were all a bit insane, even those not named Uchiha.

But Yura did not want to be a beast enslaved by desire, so she suppressed her excitement and the impulse to rush down and hack everyone below into pieces.

Therefore, Yura simply watched from the sidelines, savoring the fear, despair, pain, and hatred in people's hearts, as well as the grotesque misery of their final moments.

Yet, as a demon, one must have an interesting goal. Yura of the Demon Hair had a simple dream that most demons coveted: to rule the demon world. That was why she had fought so hard to claim all the Shikon Jewels for herself.

Now that she was in the ninja world, she would set a small goal: to rule the ninja world.

This world of endless strife was, to Yura, the most wonderful and beautiful world of all.

As long as there were people, there would be darkness. Where darkness grew, it would become Yura's food. Yura would never go hungry, and Yura hated being hungry.

She hated being stabbed through the stomach even more.

And therefore, she hated Senju Hashirama most of all.

So...

"What a wonderful era this is..."

Seeing both sides finish their skirmish, leaving behind a pile of corpses before retreating, blood flowed across the ground in front of the town.

"Thanks for the meal~"

With a polite bow, the demon girl clapped her hands in satisfaction, thanking the people for their enthusiastic treat. Watching the souls drift away from the corpses, Yura raised her hand. A strand of hair extended rapidly from her fingertip, piercing the town wall. With a flick of her wrist, the end of the hair pierced a tree trunk behind her, embedding itself deep within. As she stepped onto the aerial path of hair, no chakra was needed beneath her feet; she displayed an astonishing, innate sense of balance—a pure, natural skill. With her hand on the hilt of the blade at her waist, she walked toward the city wall as if walking on flat ground.

Black Secret Technique: Aerial Hair Path

As Yura's bare, crystalline feet landed lightly on the wall, the path of hair behind her turned to ash and vanished in the blink of an eye.