The threat of death awakened the savagery in the Kirigakure ninja's bones. Rather than dodge, he stepped into the blade, letting its cold edge bite into his flank. At the same time, his left hand held a poisoned dagger in a reverse grip, its edge gleaming an eerie blue. Like a snake flicking its tongue, it silently stabbed toward Shinji's exposed ribs! He meant to wound them both-to trade his life for Shinji's!
In that split second, Shinji's Sharingan caught the poisoned dagger's lethal trajectory and magnified it! The icy touch of death seized his heart!
His mind went blank. Every thought fell away, leaving only his battle instincts, honed through endless practice, and his will to survive roaring within him!
I can't dodge! I can't block it!
Then... meet his attack with my own! Let's see whose blade is faster!
Shinji sharply twisted his right wrist, his forearm muscles bulging. The blade that had been slicing toward the ninja's waist traced a strange half-circle through the air, abruptly accelerating. Though it moved second, it arrived first, whipping upward like a scorpion's tail!
Squelch!
The dull sound of steel cutting flesh reached his ears with startling clarity, accompanied by the faint crack of severed neck bones.
Time seemed to freeze.
The Kirigakure ninja's forward charge stopped dead. The sharp point of his poisoned dagger had already touched Shinji's clothing, yet it could advance no farther. His weapon arm had been severed cleanly at the shoulder. Every inch of reach mattered: Shinji's short sword was only a little over ten centimeters longer than his dagger, and just a fraction faster. The short sword had sliced his throat completely open, leaving a hideous wound. Warm blood burst out like a flood breaching its banks, drenching Shinji from head to toe. A nauseating