Fragments of roof tiles were still clattering down.
Third Hokage Hiruzen Sarutobi held that strange hand seal, palms pressed together, his entire body rooted to the spot.
Just a second ago, he had already resolved to die.
He would offer his soul to the Shinigami and take Orochimaru down with the forbidden technique that killed both its user and its target, the Reaper Death Seal.
Even the incantation had rolled through his throat, ready to be spoken.
Then someone had smashed that Purple Lid to pieces with a single punch.
The atmosphere became extremely awkward.
Especially for that sinister shadow behind him.
It was the phantom of the Shinigami that only the caster could see, floating in midair with a short blade clenched in its mouth, its white hair a tangled mess, radiating a chill from Yomi.
Ordinary people could not see this thing, but Son Goten was no ordinary person.
His clear black-and-white eyes blinked, his gaze passing straight over the blood-covered old Third Hokage and fixing on the empty space behind him.
Son Goten frowned and raised a hand to point at it, disgust written all over his face.
"Hey, old man."
"Has it been ages since you last bathed too? Why have you got something so filthy clinging to your back?"
The Third Hokage nearly choked.
The hand Orochimaru held the Kusanagi Sword in trembled.
Son Goten pinched his nose and fanned the air in front of him with his other hand.
"Being ugly is one thing, but you've even got a knife in your mouth. Aren't you afraid of cutting your tongue?"
"Just looking at you is bad luck. You're as appetite-killing as that purple-sweet-potato-flavored barrier."
The Third Hokage's eyes nearly popped out in shock.
This child could see the Shinigami? Then something even more outrageous