Chapter 112: What About Turning Into Ashes?
"I remember your face! Next time, I'll kill you for sure!" Hidan barked, his words dripping with venom as he dragged the Six-Tails Jinchūriki away.
"Since you're not planning to fight, let's save it for next time," Kakuzu said, giving Gojo a pointed glance before hefting two lifeless monks over his shoulders and retreating.
Despite his calm demeanor, Kakuzu knew better. Gojo wasn't someone to trifle with. His easygoing attitude, hands buried in his pockets, and that ever-present smirk—none of it hinted at a man ready for bloodshed. But that's what made him terrifying.
No killing intent. No fear. Just confidence. Too much confidence.
Just as Kakuzu and Hidan were about to make their escape, a dark red barrier shimmered into existence, trapping them.
"What's the meaning of this?" Kakuzu asked, his tone grim as he turned back to face Gojo.
Gojo tilted his head, the smirk never leaving his face. "Don't take it the wrong way. I didn't stop you right away because..." He paused, his eyes shimmering with amusement. "Well, you're weak."
The words hung in the air, thick with insult.
"Weak?!" Hidan's voice cracked with indignation.
The Akatsuki duo was stunned. These were men who sent chills down the spines of even the strongest ninjas, and here was Gojo, brushing them off like they were genin fresh out of the Academy.
"You little brat! Stand there and don't move for twenty minutes! I'll curse you into a puddle of goo!" Hidan lunged, his red scythe swinging toward Gojo's neck with reckless abandon.
Watching the chaos, Kakuzu sighed, muttering, "Idiot."
Hidan's scythe came to an abrupt halt—mere inches from Gojo's neck, as if frozen mid-swing.
"What the—?! Why won't it move?!" Hidan exclaimed, staring at the weapon in disbelief.
Gojo raised a single finger, wagging it as if chastising a child. "Tsk tsk. You really should think before you act. You might pull something," he said, his tone light but laced with mockery.
"You laughing at me?!" Hidan growled, his face a mix of confusion and rage.
"Good, you caught the sarcasm," Gojo teased, stepping back effortlessly as Hidan swung wildly at him, each attack thwarted by an invisible force.
Kakuzu, unimpressed with his partner's antics, formed a series of hand seals. "Fire Style: Searing Migraine!"
A wave of searing flames burst forth, engulfing both Hidan and Gojo. The ground beneath them blackened and cracked under the intense heat.
When the smoke cleared, Hidan stumbled out, charred and furious. "Damn it, Kakuzu! Watch where you're aiming! You'll ruin my perfect skin!"
Kakuzu, ignoring Hidan's tantrum, kept his gaze fixed on the center of the flames. Gojo stood there, completely unharmed. The fire swirled around him harmlessly before dispersing, leaving him surrounded by faint wisps of smoke.
Gojo coughed dramatically, waving away the lingering smoke. "Geez, Kakuzu, ever heard of moderation? This isn't a barbecue."
"Why don't you stop talking and fight like a real shinobi?" Kakuzu retorted, his expression darkening.
Gojo chuckled, raising two fingers and gesturing lazily. "Fight? Oh no, no, no. Fighting you is like... debating a toddler. It's pointless. Your attacks? They'll never reach me. You see, you can't surpass infinity."
"Infinity?!" Hidan's eye twitched in frustration. He picked up his scythe again, prepared to hack away until something—anything—connected. "I don't care what you call your stupid tricks! I'll carve you up and offer your blood to Jashin-sama!"
Hidan thrust a jagged iron rod toward Gojo, but it stopped dead in its tracks, suspended midair by an unseen force.
Gojo tapped the rod, letting it clatter harmlessly to the ground. "Curses, huh? Funny. I dabble in those myself," he quipped.
With a casual flick of his fingers, a dark orb materialized between them. "Spell Reversal: Red."
The orb exploded outward, its force blasting Hidan into the barrier. His body crumpled to the ground, arms shattered, stomach gaping, and blood pouring freely—but he was still alive.
Kakuzu grimaced. "Hidan, pull yourself together. Literally."
Hidan spat out a mouthful of blood, glaring at his partner. "Kakuzu! Get over here and sew my arms back on, or I swear I'll curse you too!"
"Stop whining. You're fine," Kakuzu snapped, his attention still on Gojo. "You're not getting paid for extra repairs."
Gojo, watching the exchange, couldn't suppress his laughter. "You two are like a dysfunctional comedy duo. Hidan's the reckless idiot, and Kakuzu's the overworked accountant."
Hidan growled. "Laugh all you want, Gojo! I'll get you eventually! Even if there's nothing left of me but my teeth, I'll bite your throat out!"
"Scary," Gojo replied with a mock shiver. "But tell me, can you survive being turned to ashes?"
Hidan blinked, momentarily stumped. "W-What?"
Gojo leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Just a theory. You're immortal, but what happens if there's... nothing left of you? Like poof. Gone."
Kakuzu took a step forward, his red cloud cloak falling away to reveal four grotesque masks hovering behind him. "You're strong, I'll give you that. But don't underestimate me."
With a sharp inhale, he unleashed a flurry of elemental attacks, each one more devastating than the last. The battlefield lit up like a fireworks display.
Gojo simply stood there, yawning dramatically. "Wow, fireworks and a light show? You shouldn't have."
When the attacks cleared, Gojo remained untouched. He adjusted his sunglasses with an exaggerated flourish. "Your moves? Cute. Your effort? Admirable. But this? Boring. You should call Hashirama for pointers."
Kakuzu's jaw clenched. "Don't get cocky. I fought the First Hokage and survived."
Gojo smirked, cracking his knuckles. "Yeah? Cool story. But I'm not him. I'm Gojo Satoru."