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"Kisa, we need to find Tsunade. I can’t die yet... cough... cough!"

Uchiha Itachi slowly stood up, his body trembling slightly as he rose. Then ca a violent fit of coughing.

He quickly pressed a handkerchief to his mouth — the motion practiced, almost instinctive.

But when he pulled it away, the white cloth was stained with vivid, shocking red.

The blood stood out sharply against the clean fabric, cruelly bright.

"Your condition’s getting worse, isn’t it?" Kisa asked, his usually fierce eyes now filled with worry.

He and Itachi had carried out countless missions together. He respected Itachi’s strength, his will, his calm resolve.

He rembered clearly — ever since they’d left Orochimaru, Itachi’s body had been weakening, day by day, as if the life was slowly draining out of him.

Now, Itachi was frail — painfully so. Kisa could tell that only sheer willpower kept him standing. Without it, he would’ve collapsed long ago.

Each day, Itachi endured relentless pain. His pale face, his constant cough — everything about him scread exhaustion.

"It’s fine... I can hold on a bit longer," Itachi said quietly. The dark lines under his eyes deepened, and his face seed even paler — his very presence carried a haunting, sickly aura.

He began to move forward, but every step was unsteady, his body swaying slightly. Each movent seed to cost him all the strength he had left. It felt as if he might fall at any mont.

He knew his body had been damaged beyond repair — years of harsh battles had consud his vitality. It would only get worse.

That was why he needed to find Tsunade — not because he feared death, but because he still had things left undone. He carried too much on his shoulders. He couldn’t die. Not yet.

There was sothing important he had to finish first. Only then could he face death without regret.

"Let’s head to the nearby town," Kisa said, stepping forward to support him. His voice carried quiet concern.

"If we move quickly, we might reach it by tomorrow evening. But we’ll need to hurry... or Tsunade might already be gone."

He couldn’t bear to see Itachi in such pain.

So, the two of them left the cave, their figures gradually disappearing into the sea of trees.

anwhile, in the small town, Tsunade, after being gently persuaded by Shizune, finally returned to the inn to rest.

She sat on a chair in her room, but the anger in her heart had not yet subsided.

Recalling everything that had just happened, especially Genya’s innocent expression, she couldn’t help but feel annoyed.

Just now, she had actually been thrown flying!

She was certain it was that brat from the Uchiha clan who had done it.

Clenching her fists, she thought to herself that once she sobered up tomorrow, she would find that Uchiha brat and make him pay, letting him know exactly who he was dealing with.

On the other side, Genya, Shino, and Hinata had already arrived at another part of the town.

They found a quieter tavern with fewer people and sat down. The place was peaceful, far from the clamor of the town.

Genya ordered a cup of sake and took a gentle sip. The sharpness of the sake spread across his tongue. He squinted slightly, then began eating the freshly served al, a look of contentnt appearing on his face.

After a day full of running around, this mont of tranquility felt especially precious to him.

Kurenai watched Genya, filled with curiosity, and finally couldn’t help asking, "Why did you intervene just now? What if soone had noticed?"

Kurenai had always been curious about Genya’s actions. She knew well that in this complex ninja world, exposing one’s abilities could lead to endless trouble.

Genya set down his cup, a faint, mysterious smile appearing at the corner of his lips.

"So things must be done when the ti cos. As for revealing my identity... it’s coming soon anyway. Even if it’s exposed, it doesn’t matter."

Confidence and calmness shone in his eyes, as if everything were under his control.

In truth, he no longer cared about whether his abilities were exposed. He was only hiding them now to avoid unnecessary trouble.

He had his own plans, and in his eyes, whether his strength was revealed or not would not affect the final outco.

Ti passed, mont by mont, and the night gradually fell.

The entire town was shrouded in darkness, with only the occasional flickering light, like stars in the night sky, and the distant sounds of gambling adding a strange atmosphere to the gloom.

Ti passed slowly. By the next morning, sunlight stread through the windows, falling onto the inn’s dining tables.

Genya and the others were having breakfast in the inn, enjoying this brief mont of peace.

Suddenly, the restaurant door was kicked open with a loud bang. Tsunade entered, followed by Shizune, walking in with bold confidence.

As soon as she stepped in, Tsunade scanned the room.

She had been thinking about being thrown out last night—twice—and the mory filled her with frustration.

When had she ever been treated like this before?

Unable to wait any longer, she had co first thing in the morning to see exactly what trick that little Uchiha had used to throw her out not once, but twice.

"What would you like to eat?" The innkeeper, startled by the intimidating presence of Tsunade and Shizune, quickly stepped forward and asked carefully.

Having run this inn for years, he had seen all kinds of people, but soone like Tsunade—radiating power and clearly angry—was enough to make him nervous.

"That’s none of your business. I’m looking for soone!" Tsunade impatiently pushed the innkeeper aside, her eyes scanning the room like a spotlight.

There was sharpness and anger in her gaze, as if she wanted to imdiately find the person who had humiliated her.

Finally, her eyes locked onto Genya and Hinata, who were eating quietly.

Tsunade strode over without care and plopped down next to Hinata, her eyes fixed firmly on Genya across the table.

"You little brat, were you the one who threw out yesterday?"

As she asked, her gaze was like a hawk’s, studying Genya’s every expression, trying to catch a flaw and determine if it was really because of him.

"Auntie, I don’t know what you’re talking about!" Genya’s brows furrowed slightly, showing annoyance. He deliberately dragged out his words.

"You were pestering last night, and now today too?"

Genya knew Tsunade’s intentions, but he had no plan to admit it easily. Instead, he wanted to tease this hot-tempered woman a little.

"Auntie?"

Tsunade’s eyes widened instantly at those words, as if she had just heard sothing unbelievable.

She felt her pride had been deeply insulted, and a surge of anger flared up in her chest.

With a sudden slam of her hand on the table, the bowls and chopsticks jumped from the impact.

She leaned close to Genya, staring at him intently, her facial muscles trembling slightly with rage.

"You little brat, did you just say that again?"

Her voice carried a clear threat, as if she might strike at any mont.

"Auntie? What do you want to call you?" Genya’s words hit her nerve again, and to Tsunade, his expression made him even more infuriating.

"I’ve tolerated you for far too long, stop calling ’Auntie’ all the ti. Who do you think I am?" Tsunade’s eyes were wide open, a look that seed both warning and admonishnt.

She could not stand being called "Auntie" by a kid. She prided herself on maintaining her figure and beauty, and such a title was utterly unacceptable.

"At your age, if not ’Auntie,’ should I call you ’Grandma’ instead?" Genya eyed Tsunade with a teasing smirk, his words like sharp blades cutting at her pride.

Tsunade’s eyelids twitched uncontrollably, and she felt her blood pressure rising rapidly.

With her current figure, walking through the ninja world, no one had ever called her "Auntie," let alone "Grandma."

Damn it... damn it!

She cursed silently in her heart, increasingly convinced that this little Uchiha brat was incredibly infuriating.

The angrier she beca, Tsunade glared at Genya and shouted, "You little brat... I’ve had enough of you. Today, I’ll teach you a proper lesson!"

With that, Tsunade reached for Genya’s neck. Her movents were swift and forceful, carrying an unstoppable montum, as if she intended to crush him imdiately.

****

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