Chapter 165: No Comparison At All
On the other side of the tree hollow, Robin and Nami could hear the chaos erupting from Luffy's group. The shouts. The dramatic declarations. The unmistakable sound of Usopp's indignation reaching its breaking point.
The two women exchanged knowing glances.
"I think we made the right choice staying over here," Nami said.
"Indeed." Robin's smile was serene. She had no interest in ninjas—at least, not in any ninja other than the one she already knew. There was simply no version of reality where this "Raizo" could compare to Itachi. Cooler? More composed? More skilled? The very concept was laughable.
What had drawn Robin's attention the moment the Cat Viper opened the hidden door was something far more significant.
A red stone. Massive. Ancient. Covered in script that made her heart beat faster.
She approached it slowly, her fingers hovering just above the surface. "This is... a Poneglyph."
And above the text, carved with unmistakable precision, was a crest. A stylized pattern of swirling lines that Robin had seen before—just hours ago, in fact.
"This is the Kozuki clan's emblem."
Before their departure to the Whale Tree, Kin'emon, Nekomamushi, and Inuarashi had confirmed the tattoos on their bodies. The same crest. The same design. A symbol that bound Wano and Zou across centuries.
"And this stone..." Robin circled it, her archaeologist's mind racing. "I've never seen a red Poneglyph before. All the others I've encountered were the color of dark iron. Blue-grey. But this..."
"You recognize it." The Cat Viper drew on his pipe, his single eye gleaming with something between respect and wariness. "This is a Road Poneglyph."
Inuarashi stepped forward. "I know who you are, Nico Robin. You are the legacy of Ohara. The sole survivor of the island that deciphered these stones."
Robin's expression flickered. Just for an instant. The memory surged up unbidden—the Tree of Knowledge, its branches sprawling toward the sky. The scholars who had raised her. The fire. The screaming. The world burning because they had dared to seek the truth.
"Why is this Poneglyph red?" she asked, her voice steady despite the memories. "What makes it different from the others I've seen?"
"The function is different, so the color marking is different." Inuarashi's voice was grave. "This is not a Poneglyph that records history. This is one of four Road Poneglyphs scattered across the world. Each one points to a specific location. When all four are deciphered, their intersecting coordinates reveal... the final island. Laugh Tale."
Not far from Robin and the others, the ninja showdown was reaching its inevitable conclusion.
Raizo had studied Itachi for a long moment. Then he shook his head with absolute finality.
"You are definitely not a ninja."
Itachi's cheek twitched. "You..."
Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper's faces had already cycled through disbelief, outrage, and were now settling on a collective expression that roughly translated to: Is this guy serious right now?
Raizo planted his feet in a stance that was presumably traditional in Wano's ninja schools—one hand extended, one leg forward, his chin raised with the confidence of a man who had never once doubted his own credentials.
"Even in my homeland of Wano, the ninja arts place supreme importance on proper lineage and inheritance! Looking at this gentleman's attire—" he gestured at Itachi's cloak, his sandals, his forehead protector, "—he is clearly not an authentic ninja! His appearance has nothing whatsoever to do with the sacred traditions of our order!"
Itachi's breath caught. He held it for a moment. Then released it slowly.
"...Have it your way."
But Usopp, Luffy, and Chopper had already stepped forward, their faces flushed with righteous fury.
"HEY! That's way too rude!"
"That's right! Big Brother Itachi's clothes are a hundred times cooler than yours! A THOUSAND times!"
"Your whole body doesn't look like a ninja at ALL!"
"You MUSTN'T impose your narrow ideals on others!" Raizo struck another pose. "Ninjas are NOT what you imagine them to be!"
"MAYBE you're the fake who doesn't know any real ninjutsu!" Luffy pulled a face at Raizo. "Not even a LITTLE bit!"
Raizo's enormous eyes bulged. "INSOLENT BRATS!"
He bit down on the scroll in his mouth—where had that come from?—and whipped a smoke bomb from his vest.
"Ninja Art: Smoke Escape Technique!"
BANG.
The smoke billowed. Raizo vanished.
Luffy's jaw dropped. "WHOA! Maybe he DOES know real ninjutsu!"
Raizo's voice echoed through the hollow. "I have not vanished!"
He materialized directly in front of Usopp, who screamed.
"I am HERE!"
"He really DOES know ninjutsu?!" Franky and Zoro exchanged glances of genuine surprise.
"AND THERE!" Raizo formed a hand seal. A clone appeared beside him.
"AND THERE!" Another clone.
"AND THERE! AND THERE!"
More than a dozen Raizos lined up across the hollow, each one identical to the last. The Straw Hats' eyes sparkled with childish wonder.
"Could it be...?!"
"That's right! NINJA ART: CLONE TECHNIQUE!"
"WHOA!" The crew burst into applause. "AMAZING!"
Raizo turned toward Itachi, his chest puffed with pride. "Well? What about you, 'ninja'? Do you know the Clone Technique?"
Clone technique.
Itachi's face had accumulated an impressive collection of black lines.
Law watched him with the expression of a man witnessing a critical hit in slow motion.
"Now then! Can you find my real body among—"
Itachi's eyes shifted. Just slightly. Just enough.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
Every single clone detonated simultaneously, dissolving into clouds of dissipating smoke.
"Eh?!"
Before Raizo could process what had happened, a shuriken whistled through the air and pinned his spidery hairstyle to the wall behind him. He was immobilized. Trapped. And he had not seen Itachi move a single muscle.
"DESPICABLE!"
Raizo's form blurred. A wooden log clattered to the ground where he had been pinned.
"Ninja Art: SUBSTITUTION TECHNIQUE!"
"A substitution?!" Luffy gasped.
Itachi didn't look up. His hand rose. Wooden shurikens—formed from the Tree Spirit's power—shot across the hollow and nailed Raizo's clothing to the tree wall in four precise points. The ninja was spread-eagled, utterly immobilized, his limbs pinned and his techniques completely neutralized.
"What—WHAT IS HAPPENING?!" Raizo struggled uselessly. His proudest technique—the substitution that had saved his life countless times—had been seen through as if it were a child's magic trick.
"YOU!" He tore one arm free and reached into his pouch. A dozen shurikens gleamed between his fingers. "You think YOU'RE the only one who can throw shurikens?!"
He hurled them all at once—twelve spinning stars of death arcing toward Itachi from multiple angles.
Itachi flicked his wrist.
A single shuriken left his hand. It moved through the air at an angle that defied physics, ricocheting between Raizo's projectiles with surgical precision. Ting. Ting. Ting. Ting. One after another, the twelve shurikens were scattered, deflected, sent spinning harmlessly into the walls and floor.
The thirteenth shuriken—Itachi's single blade—came to rest against Raizo's throat. A hair's breadth from cutting skin.
"This! This! THIS!"
Raizo's mind had simply stopped working.
"You... who ARE you?!"
"Could it be... are you really a ninja?!"
Kin'emon and Kanjuro stood frozen at the edge of the hollow. They knew what Raizo represented. He was the inheritor of Wano's most prestigious ninja lineage—the direct descendant of a tradition that had been passed down for centuries. In terms of shinobi arts, Raizo was the absolute pinnacle of what Wano could produce.
But this?
Against Uchiha Itachi, Raizo hadn't even qualified for the man to glance at him during combat.
Momonosuke clutched Kin'emon's sleeve, his small body trembling. The terror Itachi had instilled in him during their first encounter resurfaced like a nightmare he couldn't wake from. "Kin'emon... I'm... I'm scared..."
Itachi raised his head. His eyes met Raizo's—and in those dark pupils was something Luffy and the others had never seen before. Not cruelty. Not coldness. Something closer to helpless anger. The frustration of a master watching his art form reduced to farce.
Law looked at Itachi. Then at Raizo pinned to the wall. "There's just... no comparison at all."
"It's like watching a three-year-old pick up a butter knife and challenge a professional killer," Zoro agreed.
Usopp wiped cold sweat from his brow. "That guy... I guess he IS a ninja. Sort of. In the same way that a goldfish is technically a fish."
"But if you want a REAL ninja..." He pointed at Itachi. "There's only one."
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