I gripped the black iron rod, its surface rough as rust, then yawned and turned around.
My stomach rumbled like a drum. My soles slapped through filthy puddles. That gust earlier had plastered my coat collar against my neck, leaving it unpleasantly damp. I figured I would grab two bowls at Ichiraku Ramen near the village entrance. Doing manual labor this early in the morning was pure misery.
Shikamaru stood behind me, hugging his arms and shivering. Covered in dust, he shouted at my back. Then, without warning, Pain, lying trussed up in the mud, began twitching as though he had been electrocuted. Black water poured from every opening in his face. It carried a thick, bloody stench that made me gag, just like a dead rat.
With several sharp snaps, the steel cables broke clean apart. Broken wire ends struck the ruined wall and punched deep holes into it. Deva Path Pain rose unsteadily out of the muddy water. His two broken arms twisted grotesquely. Those lifeless, ringed eyes were now so red they looked ready to drip blood. Bloody fissures filled their corners, split open by chakra.
"Well, damn. Has that brat Nagato lost his mind?" I stopped and stuffed the black iron rod into my pocket. The air around us suddenly grew thick, and the wind scraped painfully at my windpipe. Murky droplets flew skyward one after another. Several broken bricks floated up too, circling Pain faster and faster and clanging against a utility pole.
Shikamaru fell backward into the muck in terror, clinging desperately to the gaps between paving stones. "Sen! Run! Something's wrong with this chakra! It's several times stronger than the last one!" He screamed himself hoarse, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head. "That bastard's burning through his life! He's taking the