Naruto: Being a Shinobi with no System But...

Anko had no time to watch Water Erosion. Jubei’s onslaught pressed down like mountain and sea, forcing the two Konoha shinobi onto the defensive.

”Damn it.” She spat the curse under her breath, eyes scanning the ruined ground. Snatching up a long spear abandoned by a Wasabi guard, she braced herself.

The academy taught some weapons handling, but combat training focused on the Three Basic jutsu, taijutsu. Spears and halberds weren’t Anko’s specialty—but length could be a great equalizer. With a sharp cry she swung the shaft like a heavy club.

A flicker of disdain crossed Jubei’s face. He angled his blade and struck the center of the spear shaft—clang!—sending a brutal shock up Anko’s arms. The force nearly wrenched the weapon free; she staggered back, chest heaving.

Before she could recover, Shizune’s left hand blurred across the dart launcher strapped to her arm.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

A storm of tiny, poisoned senbon—each a whispered sting—fanned out from impossible angles, honed to bite joints and weak points. They were not meant to maim so much as to disable.

Jubei reacted like a living blade. He spun, his katana carving a glittering curtain. Metal rang as most of the senbon skittered off, but a few found the gaps—embedding themselves into the flesh of his sword arm, left thigh, and the soft strip of ribs at his waist.

For an instant he paused. He looked down at the senbon embedded in his arm, and the dark purple poison rapidly spreading around the wound. With two fingers like iron tongs he plucked one free—pfft!—black blood spurted. The bruise of poison spread rapidly beneath his skin, veins darkening to an eerie bluish-black.

”That’s a paralyzing neurotoxin—custom-made,” Shizune called out, tension seizing her voice. ”You won’t shrug that off.”

Her relief was short-lived. Anko’s shout cut through the air like thunder. ”Shizune—watch out!!”

Shizune’s head snapped up. Jubei’s face betrayed no pain—only a cold, indifferent stillness. The spreading purple seemed not to worry him at all. The katana, slick with blood, descended toward her with patient inevitability.

The delay caused by her long absence from frontline duty crystallized into a brutal mistake. She only had time to raise a kunai. The blade shattered it—clang! crack!—bone screamed. The katana smashed into Shizune’s raised arm, splintering the dart launcher and driving in deep to the bone.

”Ugh—!”

Pain stole her vision; she dropped to one knee. The protection of the broken tools had prevented a fatal strike, but her right arm was wrecked—her combat effectiveness gutted.

Katsuyu on her shoulder overflowed with healing chakra, knitting flesh and steadying breath, but it couldn’t instantly restore every lost advantage.

Anko’s eyes flared with wrath. She hurled the long spear like a javelin at Jubei’s back, then launched another volley of Hidden Shadow Snake Hands—ten thick, venomous serpents that lunged for his neck and the arm wielding the sword.

Jubei seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. He didn’t even glance at the whistling spear—just shifted his body a fraction, letting the tip scrape harmlessly across his haori. The snapping snakes lunging for his throat and arm? He ignored them entirely.

Pff! Pff!

Their fangs sank deep into his flesh.

A guttural, beast-like roar tore from Jubei’s throat. He didn’t flinch, didn’t so much as acknowledge the venom flooding into him. His gaze locked on the battered Shizune sprawled across the ground. The long sword lifted again—its edge thirsting for her neck.

The snakes, taut with Jubei’s furious movements, yanked Anko like a ragdoll across the dirt. Gritting her teeth, she held on with all her strength, her jutsu alone keeping Jubei’s killing stroke at bay.

The blade stopped just shy of Shizune’s throat—half a foot away from ending her.

Through the blur of blood loss and blinding pain, Shizune seized the moment. Her left hand glowed an emerald green as she pressed her palm over the ruin of her right arm.

”Mystical Palm!”

Katsuyu’s vast chakra poured into her like an endless tide, amplifying the jutsu beyond her limits. The severed vessels stitched together at lightning speed, muscle fibers writhed and reknit, and the gush of blood slowed to a crawl.

Her wound was closing, but her body quivered violently, her face pale as parchment.

And Jubei—he was worse than any nightmare.

The snakes’ fangs had torn open his flesh, poison spreading fast, veins crawling black across half his face. Yet he moved as though nothing touched him. No pain. No hesitation. Only the same cold, merciless eyes—unchanged, unrelenting.

With a brutal motion, he ripped the snakes free. Anko hit the ground hard.

The samurai raised his sword again, his intent unchanged. Shizune’s name was already carved on death’s ledger.

The scales of battle tipped violently toward despair.

Jubei’s killing blade howled down once more—

—only to meet something even sharper than steel.

A figure appeared in front of Shizune, as sudden as a flash of lightning. No grand entrance. No wasted motion. Just one foot, descending with absolute precision—

Clang—BOOM!!!

The courtyard erupted with a roar like heaven’s wrath. The foot, clad in a simple shinobi sandal, pinned Jubei’s blade flat against the earth as if it were nothing more than scrap.

Stone slabs shattered under the impact, pulverized into dust. Cracks splintered outward like a spiderweb, the ground itself rebelling from the force.

Time froze.

For the first time, Jubei’s rigid mask twisted with raw shock. The veins on his arm bulged like steel cords, muscles straining to pry his weapon free—but the pressure pinning it down was immovable. As if the other’s foot had fused the sword to the bones of the earth itself.

Dust swirled in the air. Shards of stone settled.

The newcomer stood tall, one foot crushing the blade beneath him. He turned slightly, revealing the calm profile of a young man, his gaze briefly softening as it fell on the trembling Shizune and the bloodied Anko.

”Sorry,” he said quietly, almost gently. ”I’m late.”

That single voice shattered the suffocating despair.

Then his eyes met Jubei’s blood-red glare—rage, disbelief, and something else flickering in those inhuman pupils.

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