"Get him—kill him together!"
"Don't let anyone escape! If we don't butcher him today, none of us are leaving here alive!"
"An immortal body isn't invincible—tear him apart piece by piece!"
"He's already poisoned! Don't be afraid of him!"
"High Priest Takihata has spoken—whoever brings back Hidan's head will beco the next High Priest!"
...
Hidan's open declaration—that he intended to slaughter everyone present—had ignited the fury of the crowd like dry grass eting fla.
And when Cult Leader Takihata's order spread through the masses, the last traces of hesitation vanished. The crowd erupted completely, eyes bloodshot, breaths ragged, as though every person had been injected with madness itself.
More and more figures poured in from all directions, weapons raised, voices screaming. In the blink of an eye, Hidan was completely surrounded.
The aning was unmistakable.
Today, either Hidan would die here—or every last one of them would.
Yet even facing such suffocating encirclent, Hidan felt no fear. On the contrary, his blood surged violently through his veins, boiling with excitent and killing intent.
"Yes… this is it."
A grin spread across his bloodstained face.
"Co on. Let's slaughter to our hearts' content!"
"Those who cannot feel the pain of others shall receive divine judgnt—blasphers, every single one of you!"
Hidan threw his head back and burst into wild laughter, then charged straight into the sea of enemies.
With no room to retreat and no need to hold back, every swing of his weapon claid a life. Each step forward was paid for in blood—others' blood, and his own.
Blades cut into his flesh. Weapons smashed against his body. Pain ca in waves.
But Hidan welcod it.
Before long, corpses littered the ground, piled atop one another like discarded refuse.
Hidan himself was drenched head to toe in crimson, his body so soaked that he could no longer tell where his own blood ended and his enemies' began.
The sight alone sent a chill through the spines of those still alive.
Fear crept in.
After all, everyone knew the truth—those who rushed in first died the fastest, while those who lingered at the edges had a better chance of surviving long enough to reap the rewards.
Just then, a figure suddenly leapt over the surrounding crowd and landed directly in front of Hidan.
"Hidan! Hurry—co with ! We'll cut our way out together!" Shinji shouted, his voice urgent.
"Oh, right—the food I brought you earlier. You didn't eat it, did you? Damn it… soone tried to poison us using that!"
Hidan stared at him in silence.
"Do you really think I'd hurt you?" Shinji continued, eyes burning with resolve. "No matter what happens today, I'm taking you out of here!"
As if offended by Hidan's lack of response, Shinji drew his katana and charged toward the outer ring of enemies.
Hidan hesitated—only for a brief mont.
Then he followed.
The battlefield descended into utter chaos.
Steel clashed. Bodies fell. Screams blended together until they lost all aning.
At so point amid the confusion, Shinji slipped in behind Hidan.
A cold, twisted smile quietly crept onto Shinji's face.
In the next instant, he raised his blade high and slashed viciously toward the back of Hidan's neck.
He's won.
Those who noticed this scene were montarily stunned—then elated.
But in the very next instant, that joy froze solid.
Despite having no eyes in the back of his head, Hidan sensed the lethal danger.
And he reacted.
Pfft!
A jet-black spear erupted forward from an impossible angle, piercing straight through Shinji's chest and out his back, nailing his heart in place before the blade could finish its arc.
"How… how is this possible…?"
Confusion and disbelief spread across Shinji's face.
Then, before anyone could react, his body rippled—and the Transformation Technique dissipated.
The man standing there was no longer Akagi Shinji.
Hidan slowly pulled back the spear, his voice icy and filled with contempt.
"I can tell—you must've been watching that guy for a long ti. Your expressions and tone were spot-on. When you brought food earlier, you really did fool ."
"But the mont you made your move, I knew—you were not Akagi Shinji."
"That pathetic taijutsu, those disgusting sword skills—just looking at them pisses off!"
"And there's one last thing. Even if you go to hell, rember this."
"That bastard would never say sothing so sickeningly sentintal to . Got it?!"
Bang!
Fueled by fury, Hidan smashed his fist down, obliterating the man's head in a single, brutal strike.
As the blow landed, Hidan suddenly felt sothing else shatter as well.
The invisible shackles wrapped around his heart—gone.
His breathing steadied. His mind felt strangely lighter.
Sowhere deep down, knowing that Shinji hadn't poisoned him… mattered more than he wanted to admit.
Yet clarity ca at a cost.
Though the imposter's strike had failed to take his head, the blade had still torn into Hidan's shoulder.
Had he been even a fraction slower, his arm would have been severed completely.
Now, his left arm hung limp and useless at his side, blood streaming freely.
"Now's our chance!"
"He's injured—attack together!"
A pack of vicious criminals seized the opening and surged forward all at once.
Hidan slowly raised his head.
Madness blazed in his eyes.
He skewered three enemies in rapid succession, the spear punching through bodies as if they were paper. He kicked two more flying, bones cracking as they collided with others, then slamd his forehead into another man's face with a savage headbutt, leaving him crumpled and unconscious on the ground.
Even so, Hidan couldn't avoid being struck again and again.
Blades bit into his flesh. Kunai tore through muscle. Blood sprayed endlessly.
Then—
A flash of steel.
A clean, vicious slash severed his right calf completely.
Blood exploded outward.
Hidan's balance instantly collapsed, his body crashing heavily to the ground. Yet even then, surrender never crossed his mind.
Snarling, he propped himself up with his remaining leg and both arms, his hands moving at terrifying speed—thrusting, retracting, striking with relentless precision.
In the blink of an eye, two more lives were taken.
Even seated on the ground, even with one leg gone, Hidan was the embodint of pure brutality and savagery.
Anyone who dared rush him paid a price—no one erged unscathed.
If he hadn't been poisoned from the very beginning, his strength heavily suppressed, Hidan was certain of one thing:
He could have slaughtered them all.
Every last one.
At that mont, a shout rang out from the crowd, sharp and urgent.
"Don't get close—he can't move anymore! Use explosive tags!"
"That's right—blast him apart with explosive tags!"
"Be careful—don't blow off his head!"
"To hell with that—kill him first!"
The hesitation vanished instantly.
One after another, the ferocious black-robed figures pulled out kunai wrapped tightly with explosive tags and hurled them toward Hidan without rcy.
Under normal circumstances, even injured, Hidan could have dodged such attacks.
But now—with only one leg remaining, surrounded on all sides— Where could he possibly escape?
Trapped with no path out, Hidan threw his head back and laughed even more wildly than before.
"Hahahaha… I'm immortal!"
"Even if you blow to pieces and only my head is left, I'll crawl out of hell and tear your throats apart with my teeth!"
His laughter echoed—
And then the world exploded.
A thunderous roar tore through the battlefield as the explosive tags detonated in unison. Fire, shockwaves, and debris erupted outward, swallowing everything in dense, choking smoke.
For a mont, all vision vanished.
Yet every pair of eyes remained fixed on the center of the blast.
No one truly believed anyone could survive such an explosion.
But belief didn't matter.
Unless they saw the result with their own eyes, none of them would feel at ease.
After all, whoever claid that head—
—would beco the next High Priest of the Jashin Church.
A single step straight to the heavens.
Slowly, the smoke began to thin.
And as visibility returned, terror crept unmistakably into their eyes.
Hidan was gone.
In his place stood sothing else.
A blood-red cocoon.
It pulsed faintly, its surface gleaming wetly under the fading smoke.
Then—
Crack.
Crack.
Fine fissures spread across its surface.
The cocoon shattered, breaking apart into countless crimson crystal fragnts that scattered through the air like falling gemstones—beautiful, surreal, and horrifying all at once.
Amid the rain of blood-red crystals, a lone figure stood with his back to the crowd.
Standing between them—
—and Hidan.
In one hand, he held a massive triple-bladed scythe, its edges stained dark with old blood.
In the other, he casually dangled a severed head by the hair.
Oh—right.
On his back hung a broken blade.
"Tsk, tsk," the man clicked his tongue, glancing sideways. "Almost died to a bunch of small fry."
"You're really getting worse, Hidan."
"None of your business," Hidan snapped, stubbornly lifting his chin despite his ruined body. "If you're here to kill , just do it already."
"I even went out of my way to fetch you a gift," the young man continued lazily. "And you actually thought I'd help this trash deal with you."
He shook his head.
"Truly heartbreaking."
With a flick of his wrist, the dead-eyed head was tossed straight into Hidan's arms.
Only then did Hidan see it clearly.
His breath hitched.
That face—
It was High Priest Takihata.
Leader of the Jashin Cult.
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