Chapter 167: Subduing the Shark [Bonus for 100 PS]
The moment Samehada absorbed Ren's chakra, the bizarre sword swelled in size, its front end splitting open into a gaping maw that emitted a strange, gurgling noise. It seemed ecstatic, as if it had just tasted a gourmet meal.
"The chakra absorption rate of that sword is as disgusting as ever," Ren remarked, a slight frown on his face. "It drained nearly half of my reserves in an instant."
"Hehehe! It's the first time since our last encounter that Samehada has grown this large! Its excitement is palpable!" Kisame chuckled, his grin widening as he watched Ren's reaction.
"Tch. You seem overly confident. In that case, allow me to test a new technique on you." Ren's expression turned cold. His eyes shifted, the tomoe twisting into the complex, sinister pattern of the Mangekyo Sharingan. A malevolent, grey-white chakra erupted from his body, condensing around him to form the spectral ribs of a Susanoo. Strangely, this Susanoo was not the colossal warrior he had used against Kumogakure. It was more compact, more concentrated.
"Huh? That is... Be careful, Kisame," Itachi's voice, though calm, carried a note of warning. "This is the advanced pupil technique of the Mangekyo Sharingan... the Susanoo."
"Susanoo? The ultimate ocular jutsu?" Kisame's playful demeanor vanished, replaced by intense focus. Even without Itachi's reminder, the oppressive aura emanating from the chakra construct was enough to put him on high alert.
"Hmph. The surprise is premature," Ren sneered. With a thought, the form of his Susanoo began to warp and change. The ribcage and skeletal structure melted away, reshaping itself into the form of a ferocious, spectral dragon's head that enveloped Ren completely.
"What? It can change shape?" Itachi's composed facade cracked for a second time, genuine astonishment flashing in his own Sharingan. The ability to alter the fundamental form of the Susanoo was something entirely outside his understanding of the technique.
"Hey, Itachi! What's going on now? You have the same eyes; you should know about this, right?" Kisame called out, not taking his eyes off the transforming threat.
"I do not," Itachi admitted flatly. "But you must be cautious. I suspect this is more than a simple transformation."
"Tch. Helpful as always," Kisame muttered under his breath.
"Hehehe... Are you finished preparing?" Ren's voice echoed from within the dragon's maw. He raised the glowing red blade of Ryūko, which was now sheathed in the same grey-white chakra as the Susanoo. "Then prepare yourself!"
**"Susanoo: Raptor's Sky-Severing Slash!"**
In an instant, Ren vanished. He became a streak of grey-white lightning, a phantom dragon tearing through the space between them. The speed was incomprehensible, leaving a blazing afterimage in its wake. The sheer force of the charge gouged a trench in the earth behind him.
Kisame's eyes widened in shock. There was no time for a complex defense. On pure instinct, he swung Samehada up in a desperate block. The impact was catastrophic. A force like a mountain strike slammed into the sword, utterly overwhelming Kisame. He was hurled into the air like a ragdoll, the breath knocked from his lungs.
But the attack wasn't over. The dragon-headed projectile, its momentum unchecked, shot past him, then—impossibly—arced back around with vicious agility, charging at him again while he was still airborne and disoriented.
"Damn it!" Kisame cursed. He was completely vulnerable, unable to right himself or form a defense. The spectral dragon head smashed into him a second time with brutal force, sending him spinning higher. The impact was so violent that his grip on Samehada failed, and the prized sword was sent flying from his hand.
It all happened in less than a second. From the initial charge to the second hit, the sequence was a blur of devastating speed.
"It's not over yet!" Ren's voice roared.
The dragon changed direction once more, a predator locked onto its prey. A third impact, then a fourth. Kisame was battered relentlessly through the air, a punching bag for a force of nature. Finally, the assault ceased. The grey-white chakra dissipated, and Ren landed gracefully on the ground as Kisame's broken body crashed down nearby.
The Shark of the Mist lay in a crumpled heap, his torso a bloody ruin. A massive wound gaped on his chest, his ribs visible through the torn flesh. He gasped ragged, wet breaths, clinging to consciousness only through his monstrous vitality. For anyone else, such injuries would have been instantly fatal. His one hope for recovery—Samehada's chakra absorption—was gone, the sword lying uselessly several meters away.
In the span of a single, breathtaking technique, one of Akatsuki's most formidable close-range fighters had been utterly neutralized.
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