Itachi Breaks the Mold, Sanjin Plays Along

Bang!

A dull sound rang out through the space.

"Ah..."

Akai Sanjin enthusiastically responded to Itachi Uchiha.

Itachi frowned slightly as he looked at the blood blossom blooming on Akai Sanjin's thigh, feeling deeply insulted...

From less than ten meters away, how could he miss by that much every time?

Ignoring the faint smoke rising from the muzzle, Itachi landed lightly.

His figure shifted, and he was suddenly clad in a white suit coat.

The large character for Justice was embroidered across the back of the coat.

At some point, a cigar had appeared between Itachi's fingers.

His young figure looked slightly out of place, but it could not contain the overwhelming aura of swagger.

That invisible aura endlessly magnified his sense of grandeur.

Especially with the white shirt, white vest, suit trousers, and white leather shoes, he looked like a godfather of the legitimate world.

Itachi felt that something was still missing, but for the moment, he could not remember what the problem was.

Watching Akai Sanjin cheering before him, Itachi stroked his chin with a slender hand.

Then he remembered that he seemed to be missing a pair of glasses...

He lowered his hand from his chin and snapped his fingers.

A pair of black sunglasses instantly appeared on his face.

A mirror appeared in Itachi's hand. He looked himself over and felt somewhat dissatisfied.

Then, as though he had figured something out—

He snapped his fingers again.

The sunglasses transformed into thin, platinum-framed glasses.

Itachi looked at the casual glasses and the beautiful Mangekyo Sharingan beneath their thin lenses, feeling rather satisfied...

Lost in the moment, Itachi even vaguely heard Akai Sanjin praising him for being handsome...

At that moment, Akai Sanjin stared at Itachi, who had transformed after landing, his face pale.

A trace of regret appeared in his eyes, along with a few doubts...

The pain in his thigh continued tormenting him.

Seeing that Akai Sanjin had stopped cheering and jumping about, Itachi felt somewhat displeased.

"Why aren't you talking... Do you look down on me?"

Itachi stared coldly at Akai Sanjin, his entire body radiating chill.

Akai Sanjin's height, in particular, made Itachi feel rather miserable.

He did not like having to look up at others...

"Hehe, stupid dog!"

Akai Sanjin sneered at Itachi's words. Though he looked somewhat bedraggled and was afraid inside—

He still stubbornly spat out an insult...

"You're really brave..."

Itachi pursed his lips at Akai Sanjin's feigned toughness and spoke softly.

It was impossible to tell whether he was praising or mocking him.

But his white leather shoe viciously kicked the spot on the other man's thigh where he had been shot.

Blood poured out.

"Ah..."

Akai Sanjin cried out in pain, then quickly forced it down.

He wanted to appear a little tougher...

Yet the neatly dressed Itachi was rather dissatisfied.

If the other man would not cooperate, it made him look foolish...

He began considering how to crush the other man's spirit.

But why were ropes, whips, and candles appearing in his mind...

Itachi inwardly scorned himself and lightly shook his head.

His twisted amusement gradually faded.

Itachi's gaze turned cold again, restoring that air of an arrogant king.

Yet he did not change his current outfit again.

He was still quite satisfied with this getup.

"Kneel..."

Itachi sat down lightly, and a throne appeared in the air.

Along with several figures clad in armor.

Looking closely, beneath their helmets were faces identical to his own...

These were not Shadow Clones. They were people he had created in this space.

Itachi took a calm puff of his cigar.

He looked at Akai Sanjin, whom he had forced to kneel on the ground through violence.

"What is one thousand minus seven...?"

As Itachi smoked his cigar, one of the armored versions of himself that he had created spoke flatly.

The only pity was its dull expression and icy tone. Like a robot, it seemed to have no soul.

Seeing this, Itachi felt a little regretful.

As a modern man, his Tsukuyomi Space would certainly no longer rely on the old method of repeatedly killing someone and reviving him as torture.

Instead, it was filled with a modern, stitched-together package...

After all, modern people could turn a ninety-eight-yuan game into an experience worth ninety-eight thousand yuan...

Though the style had admittedly been somewhat ruined by overuse.

Akai Sanjin stubbornly said nothing, feeling that this little brat was nothing special.

He had thought this genjutsu would be so brilliant, but it was nothing more than this...

Yet just as he gave no response...

At some point, he had already been seated in a chair.

The nightmare was about to descend...

At some point, he had been changed into ancient clothing.

He could not quite understand the style of those ancient clothes. The enormous character for Prisoner on them was more imposing than the Japanese he knew, as if Japanese itself were merely a branch derived from it.

The armored executioners also wore solemn ancient garments.

For some reason, they filled him with waves of awe.

"What is one thousand minus seven...?"

The dull voice rang out before Akai Sanjin once more.

Akai Sanjin still gave no response at all, and there was even a hint more disdain in his eyes.

How could such childish tricks possibly frighten an outstanding jonin like him?

Earlier, he had merely lost his composure because of fear of the unknown and pain he had experienced for the first time.

He was prepared to endure this childish brat's genjutsu without uttering a sound.

"Ah, no... I'll confess!"

Seeing that the scene had not changed, the person who inspired awe in him picked up some strange tool and began giving him a manicure.

After a vague sense of foreboding arose in his heart, the immense pain—and watching someone destroy his body right before his eyes—

The horrible sensation made him instinctively let out a bewildered cry. He did not even know what he was saying.

"Incorrect answer... What is one thousand minus seven...?"

Itachi quietly smoked his cigar as he watched the heavily censored scene.

He began thinking up some new tricks. After all, if there were too few activities during seventy-two hours—

What if tourists visiting the Tsukuyomi Space left bad reviews?

Akai Sanjin watched the strange tool being placed against another one of his nails, and his scalp went numb.

Having undergone so much training, when had he ever seen such brutal methods?

"Nine hundred and ninety-three..."

The moment he realized that the other party was about to touch his hand again, Akai Sanjin surrendered...

"Too late..."

The dull voice rang out again.

With every finger connected to his heart, Akai Sanjin once more cried out with all his strength, accompanying the executioner.

"What is ten thousand divided by one hundred twenty-seven point three two...?"

Just as Akai Sanjin silently calculated what nine hundred and ninety-three minus seven was—

The executioner's dull words made his pupils contract sharply...

"Fuck?"

He blurted out a complaint instinctively...

"Incorrect answer..."

Seeing his first visitor sitting limply in the chair with vacant eyes, Itachi stroked his chin, feeling that the man had gone a little numb...

Unable to think of any excellent new methods, he stood up in boredom.

He prepared to find something else to do.

After all, there was still some time left before the seventy-two hours were up.

He would not watch this adults-only scene any longer, lest it affect his physical and mental health.