The Rampaging Killing Machines and Tokugawa's Desperate Backlash

Inside the Underground Secret Room, the air was foul and scorching, thick with the stench of blood and dust.

Hojo Tokugawa's aged face was pressed against the cold, damp surface of the Water Mirror, his clouded eyes fixed on the rivers of blood flowing through Kyoto Inner City within it. He saw Watanabe Jun's mansion razed to the ground, saw Elder Yamada's corpse trampled into pulp by a monster, and saw his "colleagues"—who usually feigned cooperation with him—reduced to departed souls beneath the iron hooves of the "Heroic Spirits" he had summoned.

The thrill of revenge burned through his nerves like the strongest liquor, making every withered vein in his body bulge.

"Ha ha... hahahahaha!"

His stifled, deranged laughter echoed through the chamber. He shook all over as he laughed, tears and snot smeared across his face.

"Do you see? This is what happens when you betray me! A bunch of fools! A bunch of useless fools!"

He had won!

He had used the ultimate trump card left behind by the First Daimyo to send all his political enemies to hell! Even Konoha's elite Hyuga Clan had been beaten into a corner, reduced to a miserable state!

An unprecedented illusion of power made Tokugawa's chest heave. He felt like a god, the sole sovereign who held the power of life and death over Kyoto!

"It's not enough... not enough..." He greedily licked his cracked lips. His bloodshot gaze swept across the devastated ruins before finally settling on the white formation of over a hundred Hyuga ninja beneath the southern city wall.

"Your turn, Konoha's dogs!"

A savage smile spread across Tokugawa's face. He raised the hand stained with his own blood and that of his trusted guards, concentrating as he tried to use that faint, strange connection in his bloodline