The winds stilled, a chapter closed

Black Zetsu launched into his spiel.

His expression, tone, inflection... every detail had been meticulously polished.

He had all the makings of an unscrupulous salesman swindling elderly villagers into buying health supplements.

He promised Watanabe Ichiro the moon, pushed and pulled, played up the strengths and glossed over the weaknesses... his psychological manipulation skills were maxed out.

If Black Zetsu's looks hadn't been so hopeless, he would have been a playboy breaking innocent girls' hearts left and right.

One pitch followed another: "You're the one chosen by fate," "Peace is within reach," "Your abilities are enough to dominate this era"...

No wonder Black Zetsu had duped Madara Uchiha so thoroughly, getting him to work for free all those years. Who could withstand this?

Watanabe Ichiro listened with shining eyes, humbly and attentively studying Black Zetsu's techniques. His only regret was that he couldn't conveniently pull out a notebook.

Excellent, excellent. I can tweak the wording later and use his own tricks against him. Learn from the enemy, then turn those skills on Black Zetsu.

With Watanabe Ichiro staring at him intently and listening with bated breath, Black Zetsu grew increasingly satisfied with this Plan B.

Ah, look at this kid. So cooperative. He believes anything I tell him.

Whenever he had deceived other people, they always had a pile of questions. He had to dodge them with smooth talk first, then stay up all night patching every hole in his logic before returning the next day to make his story hold together.

It was rare to find such an accommodating listener, one who not only questioned none of his claims but looked at him with open admiration.

Black Zetsu was so touched that he nearly burst into tears. What a good boy. Sob, sob.

What a shame some damned bastard had stolen the Uchiha clan's Stone Tablet. Otherwise, using the writing that only the Mangekyō Sharingan could read as evidence would have been even more convincing.

While studying Black Zetsu's brainwashing and recruitment spiel, Watanabe Ichiro spared some attention to ponder a question.

What exactly is Black Zetsu made of? Is he a spiritual entity split off from Kaguya? Or an aggregate of chakra?

Would the system's [True Damage Infusion] work on Black Zetsu?

I'm a little curious.

Could I hit him once to test it?

It probably wouldn't kill him, right?

An eagerness Black Zetsu couldn't understand flickered in his eyes, but Black Zetsu took it as approval of the [Infinite Tsukuyomi] plan and grew even more animated.

Unfortunately, reality gave him no chance to satisfy his urge to talk. Several figures faintly appeared in the distance; Konoha's people had finally arrived.

Black Zetsu reluctantly stopped explaining the [Infinite Tsukuyomi] plan, intending to wrap up today's conversation with a few final remarks.

But Watanabe Ichiro spoke first.

"Can I give you a little pinch? A new ability appeared when my Mangekyo awakened, but I've never been able to use it. After seeing you, my instincts told me I could use this technique."

"But it would hurt you a little, so..."

He spoke more and more slowly, then finally shook his head, rejecting his own suggestion.

"Forget it. Sorry, that was presumptuous of me."

"I don't want someone important to me getting hurt, even a little."

"It's fine. I'm strong. Being short one ability won't matter..."

"With the power I have now, I can still carry out [Infinite Tsukuyomi]..."

Watanabe Ichiro delivered a classic display of manipulative sweetness, but when had Black Zetsu ever encountered anything like it?

You're important to me. I don't want you getting hurt. Carry out [Infinite Tsukuyomi].

Those three critical hits ground Black Zetsu's little black heart into the dirt.

Black Zetsu had borne the burden of the Mother-Saving Plan since his birth. His only living relatives were his two older brothers, who had sealed away their mother, Kaguya. Weak as he was, he could only rely on his nearly endless lifespan to scheme secretly behind the scenes. Who had ever cared about him?

His defenses crumbled completely, and in a daze, he agreed to Watanabe Ichiro's request.

"It's not out of the question. We can try."

What remained of his caution made him extend only a little-finger-sized portion of his body.

"Be careful!"

He added that as an afterthought.

Watanabe Ichiro refused, going back and forth several times like someone declining a relative's cash gift at New Year. In the end, Black Zetsu persuaded him by insisting that nothing could be allowed to jeopardize the [Infinite Tsukuyomi] plan.

Looking thoroughly "reluctant," he applied [True Damage Infusion] to his hand, reached over, and gave him a gentle pinch. The texture felt a little like jelly.

Black Zetsu felt a sharp sting. Sensing something wrong, he instantly pulled back.

"How was it? Are you hurt? It hurt, didn't it? We really shouldn't have tried..."

Watanabe Ichiro's rapid-fire combo left Black Zetsu speechless.

"No, it was a very slight sting. I should go."

Konoha's people were drawing closer. After that brief explanation, Black Zetsu rapidly retreated, leaving a final remark from afar: "We have plenty of time. We'll meet again another day!"

Watanabe Ichiro waved goodbye, his smile genuine.

What a wonderful person. So easy to fool...

The departing Black Zetsu and Watanabe Ichiro, still sitting where he was, thought the same thing.

"System? Have you finished analyzing it? What is Black Zetsu made of?"

"Analysis in progress. Estimated time: two minutes."

Black Zetsu really did have something special about him. The analysis was taking twice as long as recalculating the spatial coordinates had last time. Was that simply what he should expect from an Otsutsuki?

He hadn't expected Black Zetsu to be so easy to manipulate. Maybe next time he could try asking for a tissue sample to experiment on...

Come to think of it, why haven't I seen any White Zetsu? Where are they hidden? Why haven't they shown up yet?

Pondering this, Watanabe Ichiro peacefully settled onto his side against the stone wall. Tonight really had been a mess.

First, Uchiha Kagami had placed an order, specifically requesting one fresh, lively Uchiha Ichiro.

Then, while Watanabe Ichiro was eating hot pot and chatting away, the Uchiha had drugged and tied him up halfway through the conversation, packing him up and shipping him out of the Hot Pot Restaurant.

Next, he had been transferred to the Uchiha Clan Compound, given a simple disguise, and sent to his destination as an express order, with an Uchiha deliveryman bringing him straight to the buyer's door.

Finally, the order had arrived at the designated location on time.

During the after-sales service, however, the merchandise had beaten the buyer, Uchiha Kagami, to death, so the system had automatically awarded a five-star review.

Mm. What a productive evening.

Watching a familiar white-haired figure approach with the Body Flicker Technique, Watanabe Ichiro closed his eyes in relief, withdrew his spirit, and left the system to run his Disguise on autopilot.

While his soul inhabited the Disguise, all five senses were synchronized. He had endured the pain throughout the entire ordeal.

Still, a little pain was good. Otherwise, getting used to his spirit's lack of sensation always gave him the illusion that he wasn't truly alive.

"Ichiro!"

Tobirama Senju arrived with the Body Flicker Technique. As the fastest of the group, he had left the others far behind.

Seeing Watanabe Ichiro lying there, his heart sank.

Memories of Hashirama Senju's death came flooding back. For a moment, his older brother Hashirama's cold body seemed to overlap with Watanabe Ichiro's.

-Is Ichiro dead too?

-Am I the only one left?

-No, not necessarily! Calm down. Don't panic. Check his breathing and heartbeat first.

He approached Watanabe Ichiro, but the large bloodstains had dried and stiffened his clothes, making it impossible to tell whether he was still breathing.

-[Impure World Reincarnation] is almost complete too. Even if he's dead, I can bring him back. No need to panic.

Tobirama Senju reached out. The fingers that could effortlessly inscribe advanced Cursed Seal arrays trembled slightly.

-This is no big deal. Everyone dies. They've simply gone ahead of me. Sooner or later, I'll walk that road to the Netherworld too. It's only a matter of who goes first.

Faintly warm breath brushed his fingertip, weak but steady.

-He's still alive.

-Thank goodness.