Zixu lit up a cigarette, one he had won in a lottery before. Since he had it, he figured he might as well smoke it rather than waste it.
The arrogant shinobi who had stood against him were now sprawled across the ground, their bodies forming a small mound. Bruises covered them from head to toe, many fresh from the beatdown they had just received. The blood they had coughed up stained the earth, not yet dried.
Sitting atop the heap of battered warriors, Zixu waited for his cigarette to burn down before flicking the butt aside.
"Tch, I really can't stand this crap. Too damn harsh," he muttered, crossing his legs before hopping down from his makeshift throne. His gaze settled on the shinobi guide lying at his feet.
"No more wasting time. So, am I qualified to meet the Raikage now?" Zixu wasn't even slightly winded from the fight. To him, it had just been a warm-up. Now that he'd had his fun, it was time to get down to business.
The leading Kumo-nin struggled to his feet, his body trembling, his expression unreadable. He clearly wasn't ready to accept reality yet.
"What the hell are you waiting for? Lead the way already. Or do you need me to carry you there myself? Are you even a Cloud shinobi? Why the hell are you hesitating?" Zixu patted the man's head, wondering if he had knocked something loose in his skull.
"Damn it…" The Kumo-nin clenched his fists, eyes burning with humiliation and rage. Never before had he suffered such disgrace. He was a proud warrior of Kumogakure—surrender wasn't in his nature.
"…Follow me."
"Now that's more like it."
The Raikage's office was a straightforward structure, lacking any unnecessary decorations. Built for practicality, it stood tall, its glass windows giving a commanding view of the entire village—befitting of the Raikage's status.
Zixu's guide led him to the building's entrance. The guards stationed there recognized them and didn't intervene, merely throwing Zixu a questioning glance before letting them through.
Just as they were about to step into the lobby, a dark-skinned woman with silver hair, dressed in formal secretary attire, blocked their path. She had the air of someone who took her job seriously.
"Daruyin, who is this? Why did you bring an outsider to the Raikage's office without my approval? You'd better have a damn good explanation," she demanded, her piercing gaze shifting between the two.
She clearly trusted her fellow villagers, but her job was to scrutinize anyone who sought an audience with the Raikage. And right now, Zixu was the problem.
"H-he… he won the trial against the practitioners. By the rules, he's qualified to learn our secret techniques…" Daruyin stammered, sweat beading on his forehead. It was clear he was already regretting bringing Zixu here.
The secretary's sharp eyes locked onto Zixu.
"Who are you? Name? What business do you have in Kumogakure? You don't look like one of us. Are you a spy?" Her tone was as cutting as her gaze.
Zixu raised an eyebrow. Was she seriously being racist right now? Asking questions was one thing, but outright assuming he was bad news just because of his appearance?
"Lady, why the hell does a secretary need to know so much? My business is with the Raikage, not you. Now move," he said flatly.
Zixu had no patience for this. She was just a secretary—there was no way she could affect the outcome of his meeting. So why bother with pleasantries?
Ignoring her protests, he stepped around her and walked straight for the office door.
"Hey! You can't just barge in like that!" she snapped, hurling her notebook at the back of his head while simultaneously drawing several kunai.
Zixu tilted his head slightly, dodging the notebook with ease, then turned to glare at her.
"Agh…!" The moment she met his gaze, her body went rigid. A primal, unspeakable fear gripped her, and she trembled uncontrollably. Her knees buckled, and she nearly collapsed to the ground.
BOOM!
A deafening crack split the air, followed by the sensation of something massive tearing through space itself.
A towering figure moved at impossible speed, launching an attack at Zixu like a living bolt of lightning. His body crackled with dark blue arcs of electricity, making him look like a warrior clad in armor forged from raw thunder.
There was no need for introductions. This was the Raikage.
His short, spiked blond hair stood on end, and massive bronze bands encircled his thick arms. The sheer force behind his strike was terrifying—one direct hit, and even the toughest shinobi wouldn't walk away unscathed.
But Zixu?
He smirked.
Lightning surged around him, his body responding instinctively. There was no time to activate Hachimon Tonkou (Eight Gates Release), so he simply channeled his chakra, amplifying his speed to match the Raikage's.
Blue lightning snaked between them, intertwining like writhing serpents. The sheer intensity of the energy distorted the space around them.
The secretary and Daruyin, caught in the electric storm, squeezed their eyes shut as their vision was overwhelmed by the blinding light. When the flash subsided, both had been temporarily struck blind.
With no time to fully prepare, Zixu simply turned to meet the Raikage head-on. His fist moved in a blur, rocketing forward in an uppercut just as the Raikage's straight punch closed in.
Their blows collided.
A shockwave exploded outward, rattling the entire office.
The blinding light vanished, revealing both men standing firm. Neither had taken a step back.
The lightning that had covered their arms had long since dissipated, leaving only the raw power behind their punches. The Raikage's muscles trembled ever so slightly—evidence of the impact. Meanwhile, Zixu remained perfectly still, unscathed.
He had won that exchange.
Though he hadn't even used his full strength, Zixu had still landed a decisive blow. The moment his fist connected, he had quietly pressed his fingers against one of the Raikage's chakra points, subtly disrupting his arm's movement.
The Raikage noticed it immediately. His forehead creased, veins bulging in frustration. Even his beard seemed to bristle with irritation.
"You little punk…" His voice was low, but the sheer rage behind it was palpable.
Zixu merely grinned.
"What's wrong, old man? Can't handle a warm-up?"
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