The Mizuho Fruit

"Now, we should discuss the fact that if you want me to spare Senju Hashirama, you must provide a corresponding bargaining chip."

Mito Uzumaki's heart tightened as Shimizu's fingers slowly slid across her shoulder, coming to a rest on her neck with a touch as gentle as a provocation.

"Look at yourself, how beautiful you are."

Shimizu's voice whispered in her ear, carrying an aggression that could not be ignored.

At this age, Mito Uzumaki was already old enough to marry and bear children in the Warring States period.

Though still young, she already revealed full, rounded curves, causing her white robe to bulge prominently.

It had to be said, this was the gift of the Uzumaki Clan.

With their powerful vitality, the flowers they bloomed opened much earlier than others.

Shimizu leaned in slightly, bringing his face almost against Mito Uzumaki's ear.

The breath he exhaled against her pretty face, the sensation of his fingers tracing her skin, and his burning gaze—

All of it made Mito Uzumaki feel as if she were sitting on pins and needles, her small hands restless, not knowing where to place them.

Mito Uzumaki understood the implication behind Shimizu's words.

Or rather, she had harbored a sliver of that intention herself when she invited Shimizu here.

She had already taught him most of her Sealing Jutsu.

Therefore, the only thing left that she could offer, and the most she could give, was...

"I'm afraid the other ninjas are preparing to eliminate me right now; shouldn't I take a break to rest and recharge?"

Shimizu suddenly moved from her shoulder to her heart, casually toying with what he held in his hands.

He had played with many, but the differences in shape and texture of each person brought about entirely distinct sensations.

"Mmph..."

Before