第36章 体内的战争

Takuma felt every bone being crushed, every muscle fiber being torn, and every cell being scorched.

It felt as if countless snakes were slithering through his blood vessels, their scales scraping against the inner walls while icy venom seeped deep into his bone marrow.

Takuma did not know how long he had been unconscious.

He could only feel two forces tearing at his body from within.

On one side was the Cursed Seal.

That cold, tyrannical Chakra acted like a hungry beast, spreading from his neck and traveling downward along his meridians, muscles, and bones.

Wherever the power of the Cursed Seal passed, cells were forcibly altered—swelling, twisting, and mutating, as if trying to reshape his body into a vessel better suited to host the seal.

On the other side was the Healing Factor.

Wolverine's healing ability was pushed to its limit, frantically repairing the tissues destroyed by the Cursed Seal.

Old cells were eroded and deformed by the seal, only for new cells to regenerate and replace them instantly, before being eroded and regenerated once more—over and over, never ceasing.

And caught between these two forces was the Senju Bloodline.

If not for this Senju physique, his body would have collapsed during the very first clash.

In his unconscious state, Takuma perceived this war raging inside him.

He "saw" the cells affected by the Cursed Seal—they had turned deep purple, their surfaces covered in twisted black patterns like cracks reflected on polluted water.

The activity of the Cursed Seal cells was several times that of normal cells, and their Chakra throughput far exceeded the norm, yet they were unstable; every single one of them stood on the brink of collapse.

New, healthy cells surged from the depths of his bone marrow, washing over the areas eroded by the Cursed Seal like a tide, replacing those deep-purple, mutated cells.

But the power of the Cursed Seal was inexhaustible; every time it was replaced, it would swiftly reclaim its territory.

The two forces used his body as a battlefield, tugging, tearing, and deadlocked.

With every clash, Takuma felt as if he were being flayed alive.

His consciousness dissipated time and again in the excruciating pain, only to re-coalesce under the support of the Healing Factor.

He was trapped in this body that was being torn apart and repaired simultaneously, clearly feeling every second of the torment.

He did not know how much time had passed.

Takuma's consciousness finally struggled out of the chaos, finding a sliver of clarity.

Deep within his mind, he saw a space.

Beneath his feet was a surface of water, black as ink, reflecting a sky that did not exist.

Dense fog shrouded the surroundings, limiting his vision to a range of three meters.

The air was still; there was no wind, no sound, and even the sound of his own breathing was swallowed up.

Takuma looked down and saw his reflection on the water... his skin was pale, and the Cursed Seal patterns on his neck were black as ink, like three twisted snakes emerging from his collar and climbing up to his jawline.

Then he looked up and saw another version of himself standing opposite him.

Same height, same silhouette, same face.

But the skin was grayish-white, the color of a corpse.

Cursed Seal patterns covered his entire body, from his face to the backs of his hands, dense and thick. His mouth was curled into a smile that stretched almost to his ears.

"Finally, we meet," the Takuma opposite him spoke. The voice was identical to Takuma's own, but with an added low, raspy echo, as if a second person were speaking at the same time. "Aren't you in pain?"

"Aren't you angry?" The other self took a step forward, and ripples spread across the water beneath his feet. The ripples were purple, the color of the Cursed Seal. "Why should you have to endure this? Why do those powerful people get to crush you as they please?"

"You aren't me," Takuma finally spoke, his voice dry and hoarse. "Stop playing the role of the empathetic brother."

The Takuma opposite him tilted his head. "I am you. I am all your suppressed anger, all the fear you swallowed, all the pain you were too afraid to scream out in the face of death. When Orochimaru grabbed you by the throat, what were you thinking?"

"What else could I be thinking?" Takuma said. "I was thinking about how to survive."

"Survive?" The other self burst into laughter, a sharp, piercing sound that echoed throughout the space. "Survive by relying on those pathetic struggles of yours? Relying on that trash system? Drawing posters, milk, toy wings—you call these the capital to survive? You couldn't even take a single move from Orochimaru!"

The moment the voice fell, the other self moved.

He appeared instantly in front of Takuma and slammed a fist into his face.

Takuma instinctively raised his hands to block, but his consciousness had no Healing Factor, no Spider-Sense, and no power enhancements.

The punch landed solidly on his face, the force so great that it sent him flying.

He rolled across the water three or four times before coming to a stop, the taste of rust filling his mouth. This pain felt exactly the same as it did in reality.

"See?" The other self looked down at him, his grayish-white face full of mockery. "You are just that weak. So weak that you can't even defeat your own anger."

Takuma braced himself against the water and stood up, wiping away the non-existent blood from the corner of his mouth.

He took a deep breath, then looked up to meet his own gaze.

"Are you done?"

The other self narrowed his eyes.

"You said you are my suppressed anger," Takuma said, "then you should know what I am best at."

The other self paused for a moment.

"You said so much, but the core argument is just one thing—I am weak." Takuma said. "But when have I ever denied that? From the first day I transmigrated, I knew I wasn't some genius. No Sharingan, no Nine-Tails, no Wood Release. The rewards I draw are hit or miss. My teammates died, my teacher was hospitalized, and the only thing I'm good at is taking a beating."

He took a step forward, actively closing the distance between himself and his other self.

"But you got one thing wrong."

"What?"

"You think I would be angry because of these things?" Takuma tugged at the corner of his mouth, revealing a smile uglier than crying. "I was prepared for this long ago. In the Land of Waves, when Yamada and Sato died in front of me, I understood. This world isn't a game; there are no second chances. Orochimaru is stronger than me—isn't that a given? He is one of the Sannin, an S-rank missing-nin, the mastermind behind the Konoha Crush Plan—why should a Genin who just graduated a few years ago be able to beat him?"

The other self frowned, the Cursed Seal patterns on his face twisting.

"So you're content with being crushed by him? Being treated like a lab rat?"

"Who said I'm content?" Takuma countered. "But does being discontent mean I have to be consumed by anger? Does being discontent mean I have to turn into a freak like you?"

He pointed at the face of his reflection, which was covered in Cursed Seal patterns.

"Look at you—no, look at 'us'. If we really turned into something like you, then Orochimaru would have won."

The expression on the other self twisted for an instant, and the Cursed Seal patterns expanded violently, covering almost his entire face in black markings.

"What do you know—" His voice became even raspier, the echoes layering and intensifying. "You think you can win just by relying on willpower? While you're talking to me in this consciousness space, the Cursed Seal is still eroding your body outside! How long can your Healing Factor hold out? An hour? A day? It will run out eventually!"

"Then let it run."

Takuma stared directly into those pitch-black eyes and said, word for word.

"I can even tolerate a chuunibyou case as advanced as you, so why wouldn't I be able to tolerate that bit of pain?"

Takuma walked forward until he was face-to-face with his other self, close enough to see himself reflected in the other's pupils.

"You think you're my darkest emotion? You're just something Orochimaru shoved in here, wearing my skin and speaking with my voice, but you aren't any part of me."

He raised his hand and pressed it against the other self's chest.

"Get out of my body."

Something deep within his soul was awakened.

It was something that had settled within the Senju Bloodline.

Senju Hashirama never relied solely on power to end the Warring States period; he also possessed willpower—a will that could not be crushed by any force.

The Healing Factor seemed to receive an order and suddenly accelerated its operation.

The new, healthy cells no longer just replaced the eroded ones; they began to lay siege to the Cursed Seal's territory.

The Wolverine Healing Factor and the Senju Bloodline, two powers from different worlds, began to truly fuse in the process of resisting the Cursed Seal.

Using the Senju Bloodline as a foundation and the Healing Factor as a weapon, a brand-new defensive system was formed.

The power of the Cursed Seal emitted a silent shriek, fighting back frantically inside Takuma's body.

The regeneration speed of the Healing Factor exceeded the erosion speed of the Cursed Seal.

For every healthy cell consumed, three new ones took its place.

The territory of the Cursed Seal began to shrink—from spreading across his entire body, it retreated to his upper torso, then to the area around his neck, and finally, it was suppressed firmly within the three-inch radius of the Cursed Seal bite mark.

Inside the consciousness space, the body of the other Takuma began to show cracks.

The grayish-white skin peeled away like dried, cracked mud, revealing new skin of a normal color underneath.

The Cursed Seal patterns faded, retreating from his entire body to the backs of his hands, from his hands to his fingertips, and then vanished completely.

The other self looked down at his disintegrating body, his expression shifting from ferocious to calm.

"You think it's over just like that?" His voice was fading, as if coming from a great distance. "I am still there. Every time you are angry, every time you are afraid, every time you are in despair—"

"Come anytime." Takuma interrupted him. "Change your lines next time; that one is too cliché."

The other self's entire body had completely dissipated, like the final ripple on the water, vanishing into nothingness in the blink of an eye.

The consciousness space began to collapse.