"Kyoichi, aren't you… angry that Yūsuke got hurt?" asked Mei Terumī, glancing sideways at him.
"What's there to be angry about?"
Kyoichi raised an eyebrow in response.
"He was defeated and injured by Momochi Zabuza…"
"We're shinobi. Our lives are the price of this trade. Getting hurt is nothing unusual—it's part of the job. As long as he's not dead, it's nothing serious. As for being eliminated… that just means his skills weren't enough. Losing here is actually a good thing. At least in this setting, Zabuza held back. On the real battlefield, no enemy's going to spare him just because he's young."
"Well, sure, but he's your cousin!" Mei emphasized, frowning.
"So what? You expect me to go over there and beat Zabuza up just because of that?"
Kyoichi spread his hands helplessly. "I've got no interest in the Nuiburi. Sure, I could storm up there, rough Zabuza up, and then pretend to lose to someone else… but that's just plain wrong. I'd feel guilty, and the Mizukage wouldn't allow it anyway."
Then, with perfect nonchalance, his tone shifted into blatant double standards. "Of course, if it were you instead of Yūsuke… whoever dared to lay a hand on you, I'd make sure they couldn't chew solid food for a month. But Yūsuke? A few hard knocks will do him good."
"…"
Mei fell silent, lowering her head, saying nothing more.
Kyoichi chuckled softly at the sight but didn't press the matter. Instead, his gaze turned toward the mist-shrouded training ground before them.
Within the thick fog, shadows moved.
Once again, Momochi Zabuza demonstrated what "Silent Killing" truly meant. Every sound that echoed through the space came only from his opponents—Zabuza himself was a phantom, soundless and unseen, moving like a predatory cat.
The same kunai that had already felled Yūsuke and two others struck its fourth target.
"Impressive," Kyoichi murmured, eyes narrowing slightly as he watched.
His admiration was sincere.
Zabuza's killing technique had been honed to an extraordinary degree. In an ordinary world without chakra or supernatural powers, even ten men like himself probably wouldn't survive a single encounter against him.
Of course, that didn't mean Kyoichi's own skills were crude. Long before gaining his Eye of God, he had already reached the rank of jōnin through sheer effort.
After awakening the Eye of God and mastering Earth Spear, a high-level earth-style hardening technique, his fighting style gradually shifted toward overwhelming power and resilience.
His assassination skills had been forged through systematic Iwagakure training and refined in countless real battles. Against an ordinary jōnin, he would not be found wanting. But compared to Zabuza's Silent Killing… that was something else entirely. What Zabuza wielded wasn't merely a technique—it was art.
Fifth, sixth, seventh opponent—then silence.
Seven jōnin had fallen under Zabuza's blade, each carried off to the medical ward. Before this, Ringo Ameyuri had sent three of her challengers there as well. Counting the ones who had already retired, like Hōzuki Mangetsu and Ringo herself, that made twelve who could no longer continue.
There had only been twenty-six jōnin in total taking part in the selection for the Seven Ninja Swordsmen.
Minus Zabuza himself—half the field was gone.
The remaining thirteen, Kyoichi among them, stood quietly in the spectator area. None stepped forward to challenge Zabuza.
Not because they were frightened by his artful slaughter—though it was intimidating enough—but because the Nuiburi wasn't exactly… popular.
Few could handle it well, and fewer still wanted to.
Compared to that strange oversized sewing needle of a sword, most preferred to wait for the next two blades—the Shibuki and Kabutowari.
Those were far more practical weapons.
Time passed.
Five minutes slipped away since the seventh jōnin had been sent to the infirmary.
"Someone open the exhaust vent," ordered Yagura Karatachi.
With a rumble, part of the ceiling shifted open, revealing a wide shaft leading straight to the surface.
Then—
"Wind Release: Passing Typhoon!"
Forming seals in quick succession, Yagura unleashed a powerful wind release technique. The roaring gusts tore through the underground chamber, clearing away the dense mist and sending it spiraling upward through the open vent.
Even with the Mizukage himself acting, it still took nearly a full minute before the haze completely dissipated.
The difficulty of dispelling the Hiding in Mist Technique was no small matter.
Thinking about it, Kirigakure's history had been rather unfortunate. Aside from an accidental clash with Iwagakure during the First Shinobi World War, they had mostly fought Konoha—and repeatedly been humbled by the combined might of the Uchiha and Hyūga clans.
Against the Sharingan and Byakugan, the Hiding in Mist was… not useless, perhaps, but close.
Even the future Fifth Mizukage would use it merely to obscure Uchiha Madara's Rinnegan line of sight—it worked once, but that was an exception.
Generally speaking, the Sharingan and Byakugan could both pierce through the mist. The Kirigakure had paid for that truth in blood, time and again.
If only the Kirigakure hadn't been so stubbornly fixated on fighting Konoha… well, then their only other real option was Kumogakure. The Land of Wind and Earth weren't suitable battlegrounds—water release jutsu were useless in deserts and barren mountains.
"Zabuza," Yagura's voice cut through Kyoichi's thoughts, "the Nuiburi is yours."
As the mist cleared, Yagura strode up to Zabuza, his voice echoing as he declared the victor. Then he pointed to the wall where the sword hung.
Zabuza said nothing. He simply stepped forward and unhooked the blade, hefting its long, gleaming form onto his shoulder.
"Take it and head to the medical room," Yagura instructed, gesturing first to his own ears, then toward the exit.
Only then did the others notice the dried streaks of blood beneath Zabuza's ears.
"He really… pierced his own eardrums?"
"Savage."
"That kid's terrifying…"
The jōnin murmured among themselves, watching as Zabuza left the training hall with the sword on his back. Everyone there knew it—so long as he didn't die young, this boy was destined for greatness.
No, not even that.
At this very moment, Momochi Zabuza was already far beyond an ordinary jōnin.
"All right, that's enough gawking," Yagura's commanding tone snapped them out of it. "The Shibuki and the Kabutowari are still waiting for their owners."
A moment later—
"Let's save the fight for the Shibuki for last!" a clear voice called out. "For now—does anyone wish to challenge me for the Kabutowari?"
Koeda Kyoichi stepped forward.
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