Akatsuki

Koki thought to herself, "Lord Madara really has a big heart!"

Without the slightest hesitation, he transplanted his Rinnegan into Nagato. What was he thinking?

If even the slightest mistake goes wrong, isn't he afraid of ending up with nothing?

How confident must one be in their own scheme to entrust such immense power to a young boy and firmly believe he can resurrect them?

Koki gazed at Nagato's frail body and tightly closed lips, a pang of pity rose in his heart. Bearing such a heavy fate, did he truly understand what the power he wielded meant?

Will he be able to control this powerful force without being devoured by it?

After a long while, Nagato slowly raised his head, his purple Rinnegan shimmering slightly in the drizzle. However, when his gaze swept over the Konoha Forehead Protector on Koki's forehead, a deep sadness flashed in his eyes.

Nagato dared not look any longer and quickly looked away.

After a long while, he managed to squeeze out a sentence from deep in his throat. "Th... thank you."

"It's nothing." Koki took out a water pouch and handed it to Nagato. He noticed that Nagato looked very tired and weak.

His voice was hoarse, probably because he hadn't had clean water in a long time. "Drink some water before you talk."

After hearing this, Nagato finally mustered the courage to look directly at Koki's face. Her purple pupils reflected Koki, star-like eyes and the glint in them.

So gentle!

Her stunning beauty was an unparalleled shock; Nagato stared blankly as he accepted the precious water pouch, momentarily speechless.

Since he saved me, then...

"Please go and save my friend, his name is Yahiko!" Nagato resolutely closed his eyes and shouted loudly.

Koki: "Of course! Why didn't you say so sooner? Take me there quickly!"

Deep in the wilderness, a pitch-black cave is hidden in a secluded corner. Around its entrance, jagged rocks appear and disappear, wild vines stretch out like greedy hands, and weeds sway gracefully in the breeze.

Upon entering the cave, a damp and chilly atmosphere greets you. The darkness is thick and oppressive, swallowing everything in its path. Only a few faint rays of light struggle to penetrate the cave through the narrow opening, illuminating just a small corner of the space.

A cold wind silently slipped through the cracks in the stone wall, gently caressing the skin and bringing a chilling sensation.

The wind howled low and echoed in the cave, like a mournful lament, making the surrounding atmosphere even more eerie and terrifying.

The orange-haired boy's wispy hair brushed against his forehead, the soft light dancing on his strands and subtly obscuring his deep eyes.

His features were well-defined, with a high nose bridge, deep eyes, and tightly closed lips. However, his handsome face revealed a pale, sickly appearance, and his skin was as pale as paper.

Yahiko sat on a tattered straw mat, which was worn through and exposed withered straw stalks. He wrapped himself tightly in a thin blanket to ward off the cold in the cave.

Despite the thin blanket, it was his only source of warmth at that moment. His gaze was firm as he stared at the beautiful purple-haired girl in front of him.

Konan moved nimbly, her eyes filled with worry, as she carefully bandaged Yahiko's wound. The medicine had long been used up, clean water was unavailable, and disinfection equipment was out of the question.

Left with no other choice, Konan tore off a piece of her own clothing—one of the few clean garments she had left—and carefully wrapped the strips around Yahiko's wound, each wrap accompanied by her heartache and silent prayers.

"Konan, I'm alright," Yahiko whispered, gently stroking her, trying to soothe Konan's heart with his tender voice.

"You call this nothing?" Konan's eyes glistened with tears, the tears lingering at the edges of her eyes, her sorrow overflowing.

She knew all too well how perilous their situation was: medicine was scarce, food and water were running out, and the future was shrouded in uncertainty.

Inside the cave, a suffocating atmosphere permeated the air, with darkness, cold, and despair intertwined, as if threatening to devour them whole.

A group of people wearing Forehead Protector from the Land of Rain and draped in black robes sat wearily in a circle, dust and sweat mingling and etching the marks of their hardship onto their robes.

Their lips were cracked and parched, like dried-up riverbeds; the bloody fissures were a shocking sight that evoked pity.

Having gone without a grain of rice or a drop of water for days, their bodies were on the verge of collapse. Some of them could only lean against the cold stone wall, relying on their faint breaths to support their crumbling bodies.

Ryōta struggled to lift his head, his appearance heartbreaking. His once full cheeks were now deeply sunken, and he was so thin that he was just skin and bones. His eyes were starkly set in their sockets, yet they still shone with a determined light.

His throat burned like fire, each word seemed to be struggled out from the agony, yet he still cried out with all his might, "Chief, this vengeance must be avenged!"

That hoarse voice, filled with grief and indignation, echoed in the cave, igniting the flames of revenge in everyone's hearts.

"Hanzo of the Salamander, we will never forgive you!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the other ninjas also looked up, their eyes burning with anger. They clenched their fists, their bodies trembling slightly from anger and weakness.

These ninjas, who once harbored dreams and hopes, now sway in the cold winds of cruel reality, yet this ignites an even fiercer flame of revenge within their hearts.

Yahiko sat in the center of the crowd, his eyes bloodshot like a dense spider web, his head bowed, his face filled with shame and self-reproach.

"It was my fault for trusting others so easily. I'm so sorry to everyone!" His voice was filled with pain and self-blame.

The Akatsuki has suffered a devastating calamity. Its once glorious lineup is now reduced to only a dozen or so members. This was once a group of hundreds, full of vitality and fighting spirit, working together to fight for peace and justice in the Land of Rain.

They carried their dreams and struggled on this land filled with suffering, hoping to bring a glimmer of hope to the people.

However, now only a dozen or so people remain, and the culprit behind all of this is none other than Hanzo of the Salamander!

Recalling that terrible disaster, Yahiko's heart was filled with endless regret.

At that time, they believed that peace negotiations were the way to realize their dreams. Yahiko naively believed Hanzo of the Hanzo of the Salamander's false promises and led the organization members to the negotiation site full of hope.

However, what awaited them was a brutal massacre!

The treacherous and cunning Hanzo of the Hanzo of the Salamander colluded with other forces to set a vicious trap. When the Akatsuki members stepped into that trap, countless enemies surged out from all directions, launching a sudden and fierce attack on them.

Caught completely off guard, the Akatsuki members were instantly plunged into a desperate situation.