Meanwhile, Masked Lingchuan seemed to sense something. He pondered for a moment, but just as he was about to raise his arm, he suddenly heard a noise behind him.
The next second, a black rod whistled through the air and struck Masked Lingchuan squarely in the back of the head. Seemingly caught completely off guard, he took the full force of the impact. The rod punched straight through his skull and out through his mask!
Feeling the new addition to his head, Masked Lingchuan paid no mind to such minor details. With the black rod still sticking through his skull, he asked curiously, "You actually woke up?"
Nagato knelt on one knee, his heart pounding so violently that it felt as though a knife were slicing through it. From the outside, only a short while seemed to have passed, but time in the illusion didn't work that way. Having the darkness and pain buried deep within him forcibly "dug out" was hardly pleasant. "Where's Lingchuan?!"
Masked Lingchuan spread his hands. "Dead. Come to think of it, that's the first thing you ask me after getting out? Are you planning to avenge him?"
Before Nagato could react, Masked Lingchuan suddenly grew excited and continued on his own. "If you want revenge, how about this? I'll stand right here without moving. Yes, that black stick in your hand—throw as many as you've got. I don't mind if you turn me into a pincushion. Please, don't hold back."
Faced with this bizarre sight, Nagato's expression darkened. "...What the hell are you?"
"First of all, I'm not a thing. Hmm—though that sounds a little strange, I simply want to clear my head a bit. That's not a very polite thing to say." Masked Lingchuan muttered on, but when Nagato still showed no intention of