Naruto: The Medical Ninja

Chapter 240: Chapter 237: Proxy Battle in order

A high-security cell’s massive iron door creaked open in Hidden Cloud Village. A, the Fourth Raikage, marched in confidently. He was more than intimidating; his very presence changed the atmosphere, bringing an unbridled force into the confined area. His trusted secretary, Mabui, followed behind him.

Their eyes were met with Kaminari, a mummy with a bandaged face and a bulging neck. Even though he was exhausted, a spark of defiance remained in his eyes. A subtle, caustic grin played on his lips, despite his injuries. ”Good to see you again, big brother... This hospitality... truly overwhelming.”

As the Raikage flexed his massive arm, a vein throbbed in his temple, and his lightning chakra subtly flared. ”You are no brother of mine,” he growled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the cell, thick with cold fury and a deep-seated rejection. ”You’re a disgrace.”

”Perhaps not now,” Kaminari conceded, his gaze dropping to his battered hands, ”but I was, once. A long time ago.” He spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, devoid of self-pity, simply stating a long-forgotten truth.

The sharp, evaluating eyes of the Raikage scanned Kaminari’s battered body, fixing on the particularly severe wounds. ”Someone did a number on you,” he observed, a hint of genuine, almost bewildered surprise in his tone. ”I never expected you to return with a swollen face like that... Who did this to you?”

The question hit Kaminari like a physical blow, shame burning in his gut, hotter than any fresh wound. How could he possibly tell his once-brother, the man he had looked up to as a mentor and role model, that he had been utterly beaten by a mere child? The humiliation of such a confession would be a deeper wound than any physical injury. He remained stubbornly silent, his gaze fixed on the grimy floor.

Seeing Kaminari’s unwavering, defiant silence, the Raikage’s patience thinned. He glanced sharply at Mabui. ”Report,” he commanded, his voice clipped, leaving no room for argument.

Mabui nodded, her voice calm and precise, reciting from a mental scroll of injuries with detached professionalism.

She said, ”Kaminari’s injuries include severely broken knuckles, consistent with punching something far stronger than his own augmented fists. His chakra flow is erratic, indicating extreme depletion, and there are numerous fine cracks across his body, particularly his ribs, suggesting he took a strong, direct impact to the chest. He also sustained minor cracks in his skull.”

She paused, her eyes lingering on Kaminari’s disfigured face, filled with a mix of concern and pity. ”The strangest injury, Raikage-sama, is on his face. He has several teeth knocked out, and his jaw shows signs of dislocated trauma.”

The Raikage’s eyes widened, his massive frame tensing, a prominent vein throbbing in his forehead. ”But how...?” he began, disbelief warring with his escalating anger. ”He is just below me when it comes to physical augmentation! Who in the hell could inflict such damage? How could someone knock his teeth out?!”

Kaminari’s injuries were surprising, considering his reputation for physical prowess. The Raikage’s mind raced with possibilities, trying to make sense of the situation and determine who could have caused such harm to Kaminari, who was second to him in physical augmentation.

As the disturbing memory resurfaced in his mind, Kaminari trembled, a phantom pain radiating through his jaw. He vividly recalls Ryu’s open-handed slap, which he delivered with unexpected speed and the unfiltered power of his terrifying Senju-style taijutsu. The sound of his skull snapping back, with the sickening crunch of bones hitting each other, echoed in his ears.

After the flashback of the slap was over, Kaminari jerked back to reality and finally lifted his gaze, meeting the Raikage’s furious eyes, a flicker of defiance igniting his own. ”Are you here to mock me?” he asked, his voice rough, barely above a whisper, but laced with a surprising edge.

”No,” the Raikage retorted, his voice devoid of sympathy, his gaze piercing. ”You have mocked yourself enough with this pathetic display.”

”Are my demands met?” Kaminari pressed, cutting straight to the point, his voice regaining some of its former strength.

The Raikage glanced at Mabui, who promptly stepped forward, presenting a crisp paper, signed and sealed by the high council of the Hidden Cloud Village.

The Raikage took the document, his thumb tracing the official seal, the weight of the conditions evident in his tone. ”While you may be free from this prison, Kaminari, you will not be entirely free. The council has agreed to a pardon, but with conditions. You will no longer act as a regular ninja. You will compulsorily enter into Cloud ANBU. The noble clans would not agree to release you back into the regular ninja force. For the rest of your life, you will work as ANBU for the village.”

Kaminari’s shoulders slumped slightly, a brief moment of defeat, as the true weight of his new reality settled upon him. But then he straightened, his gaze resolute, accepting his fate. ”I can live with that,” he stated, the words a bitter pill, but swallowed nonetheless. ”Is my family here?”

The Raikage nodded and said, ”Yes. A copy of the pardon has been given to your family. They are waiting right outside.”

”I want to meet them,” Kaminari said.

The Raikage considered, then relented with a terse nod. ”You have ten minutes. After that, I want to know everything you have found out. Every single detail. Do not hold anything back. If you hold anything back or the information is not worth it, you will rot in this cell. Your pardon means nothing.”

Kaminari met his family—his wife and his son—in a brief, emotional reunion in the prison hospital. He confirmed that his pardon had been officially enacted and was now public, a small yet significant comfort in his new, constrained reality.

He looked down at his son, a young boy with wide, curious eyes, clutching his leg. ”This boy, Ryu... He’s just as old as my own son. But I, a Jonin, failed to subdue him.”

A grim determination settled over him. ”That Konoha brat will undoubtedly be aiming for the Chunin Exams in a few years. My son will be ready by then. I will train him myself.”

Now a proxy battle was in order to redeem him from his humiliating defeat.

After ten minutes, the Raikage returned, his patience worn thin, his expression demanding. ”Now, spill the beans, Kaminari. Every last one.”

Kaminari took a deep breath, steeling himself for the inevitable, difficult confession. ”We reached the Land of Rivers,” he began, his voice flat, emotionless, as if reciting a standard mission report, ”as planned. We separated the ANBU from the target. He was with just one of his personal guards and his secretary. We first separated the guard, Mukai Kohinata, from the boy. Then the secretary gave the kid a chance to escape by blocking us. We sent a team of genin and chunin to chase the boy while she blocked the others. She was a secret ANBU. She wasn’t strong, but she was efficient in killing people. But we subdued her; we were about to kill her when Mukai returned.”

Onnen, who had been listening intently, a frown creasing his brow, finally spoke up. ”Who did you send to kill Mukai?”

”The Torture Trio,” Kaminari replied, his voice flat.

Onnen’s eyes widened, genuine shock replacing his earlier disdain. ”He fought three of them and returned in one piece?” he asked, disbelief clear in his voice.

”Yes,” Kaminari confirmed, the single word heavy with implication, a testament to Kohinata’s unexpected capabilities.

The Raikage’s expression darkened further, his jaw tightening. ”His threat level must be higher than we anticipated.” He looked at Mabui. ”Increase his bounty. Make it substantial. Add 10 or maybe 20 thousand Ryo to the previous one.”

”If you want to put a bounty on someone,” Kaminari interjected, his voice low, a strange mixture of shame and reluctant admiration, ”you should put a giant one on the kid.”

Onnen’s eyes snapped to Kaminari, his face contorted in a mixture of anger and utter bewilderment. ”What do you mean?” he demanded, his voice rising, a vein throbbing in his neck. ”Are you suggesting an academy brat is more dangerous than a seasoned Jonin like Kohinata?”

Kaminari looked down, the shame returning, burning a fresh hole in his gut, but he forced himself to speak the truth, the words a bitter, humiliating confession. ”I was not beaten by Kohinata or the ANBU. The boy was the one who beat me. He did this to me.”

Onnen stared, then scoffed, a short, sharp burst of air, disbelief still warring with the evidence before him. ”Are you kidding me? He’s still in the academy! No matter how talented he is, he can’t be better than a talented genin at that age, let alone capable of doing that to you! It’s absurd!”

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