In the world of the Hokage, there exist various factions regarding the absorption of natural energy.
The mainstream methods are the Sage practices of Mount Myōboku and Ryūchi Cave.
Mount Myōboku enhances the skin's sensitivity to nature through the application of toad oil, while Ryūchi Cave uses a more brutal method—having the Great Snake Hermit bite the subject, directly infusing them with natural energy.
Although these methods differ, the principle remains the same:
Help those who cannot sense natural energy on their own come into passive contact with it.
Once one becomes familiar with the fluctuations of natural energy, they can discard the toad oil or snake bite, begin absorbing energy independently, and enter Sage Mode.
But Logan was an exception. He required no guidance or external assistance.
That's because Ripple Qigong, the martial art he had mastered, relied on breathing techniques to create resonance between the body and the natural world.
Logan had already reached the second stage: Ripples.
He could control water flow, generate heat, and even amplify the effectiveness of metal weapons—effects rooted in his ability to influence nature through his breathing.
With just a small adjustment to his ripple frequency, Logan could begin absorbing natural energy on his own.
"Wait—doesn't that mean, Brother Logan, you can enter Sage Mode?!" Sasuke exclaimed, eyes wide with surprise.
Logan shook his head. "You're forgetting something—I don't have chakra. But…"
He inhaled deeply.
Ssszzzzt—
A shimmering ripple coated his palm in a mountain-hued glow.
Stronger than before. His speed, strength, and reflexes had all subtly improved. He felt a profound connection to the world around him.
He could feel the breath of all things.
And there was more. Deep within, at the cellular level, Logan sensed some faint and inexplicable transformation taking place.
He couldn't say whether it was good or bad.
But at least… he hadn't turned to stone.
Sasuke stared in awe. Logan, noticing his expression, smiled.
"Don't worry. Once I've mastered it, I'll make sure you can learn it too."
Sasuke nodded earnestly.
---
Kimimaro stood with his arms crossed.
Shigeo sat collapsed, weeping into his blood-covered hands. His body was battered, his limbs torn, the ground around him slick with blood. Yet his grief was so deep, it was hard to tell who the real victim was.
"I killed them... It was all me... I'm so sorry…" Shigeo whispered through sobs.
As someone with dissociative identity disorder, Shigeo was now his calmer, more vulnerable self. And all he could feel was guilt.
Suddenly, he turned and grabbed Kimimaro's shoulder, staining his white robe with blood.
"Take me back. Lock me up. I don't want to kill anymore. Please... I beg you…"
Kimimaro didn't flinch. He handed Shigeo a towel and said quietly, "Wipe it off."
"Please! Just lock me up!"
"Wipe it off," Kimimaro repeated, his expression unchanged.
Their friendship ran deep—deeper than words could express. If this were any other request, Kimimaro would have fulfilled it without hesitation. But not this one.
Because it had been Lord Orochimaru's order to release Jūgo—Shigeo's other self—to kill.
> "I've collected Shigeo's blood samples during his calm periods. Kimimaro, take him out to kill again. I need a two-way control experiment."
Kimimaro had no idea what a "two-way control experiment" was. But if Orochimaru ordered it, he would obey—no matter the emotional cost.
As for the innocents who died along the way?
Their deaths were tragic, yes. But wasn't Shigeo's suffering a kind of penance?
---
Besides overseeing Shigeo's killings, Kimimaro had a second mission.
Five figures emerged from the shadows.
Clad in black garments with white masks and no forehead protectors, it was impossible to determine their origin. But their dead, emotionless eyes revealed their true identity:
Ninjas from the Root Organization.
Judging by their movements and presence, all five were Jōnin-level.
This was Kimimaro's secondary mission.
In recent years, all major shinobi villages had been ramping up their military capabilities. Danzo, ever the pragmatist, wanted to increase Konoha's strength—but funding was an issue.
The Fire Daimyo had refused to allocate more military funds.
So Danzo collaborated with Orochimaru.
Together, they orchestrated massacres and unrest, hoping to pressure the Daimyo into funding Konoha's militarization.
Create chaos. Then sell stability.
In addition, there were too many bounty hunters operating within the Fire Nation.
Their presence disrupted Konoha's missions. With so many independent agents, the Daimyo and local lords had too many options. Commissions to Konoha were decreasing.
Danzo had a solution.
Kill them.
This "test" would serve two purposes: furthering Orochimaru's experiments and reducing bounty hunter interference.
Five elite Root ninjas.
Shigeo with his powerful Curse Mark.
And Kimimaro, armed with his Dead Bone Pulse kekkei genkai.
It was a trap. For bounty hunters.
"Is it over?" Kimimaro asked.
One of the Root operatives held two severed heads—bounty hunters who had fallen into the snare.
They had slaughtered six villages on this journey. Surely it was enough.
"Not yet," the Root ninja replied coldly. "We haven't received orders from Lord Danzo."
Which meant…
The Daimyo was still undecided. Still watching.
Until the funding was approved, the killing would continue.
Kimimaro nodded. "Then let's go."
They departed.
Suddenly, Shigeo's sobs stopped.
Kimimaro glanced back.
The tear-streaks had vanished. Shigeo's face was now cold and stoic. With icy precision, he raised a single blood-stained finger and pointed to the sky.
The image froze.
---
Logan shook the developing photo paper.
Everyone gathered around him, staring at the photo of Shigeo's cold, unreadable gaze.
Jiraiya raised an eyebrow. "Whoa. That pose… that expression… he's really full of himself."
Logan hadn't expected the enemy to notice Hermit Purple's spying ability. Impressive.
He summoned Star Platinum and drew out the detailed scene captured in the photo.
Kimimaro and the others had already moved ahead, so the image only showed Shigeo and one Root ninja.
"White Box Village," Jiraiya said, pointing at the chrysanthemum pattern on the clothing. "They're known for their tea. This embroidery is native to that area. About a day's journey from here."
Having Jiraiya, a local, was incredibly helpful. Messaging Kanhara Hayato would've taken too long.
With casualties mounting, Logan decided to split the team.
Logan, Sasuke, and Jiraiya would go after the criminals. Logan and Sasuke traveled openly, while Jiraiya stayed hidden—he didn't want Orochimaru to spot him too early.
Momo, Mayuri, Shiro, and Kohaku remained behind to care for the wounded.
Logan also bought out every Polaroid camera in the local shop for better surveillance.
They moved nonstop, knowing every hour lost meant more deaths.
Jiraiya had expected complaints. He got none.
Even young Sasuke gritted his teeth and pressed forward without hesitation. In the end, it was Jiraiya who needed a break first.
"Let's rest," he said.
Sasuke paused. Then, softly: "I don't want to see another genocide."
He smiled—a simple, carefree smile.
"There shouldn't be more unlucky people like me."
Then, he surged forward, ripples flowing around him.
Jiraiya felt a lump in his throat.
"F**k Danzo," he muttered, fury boiling beneath his skin.
Logan continued to summon Hermit Purple, adjusting their course.
At last, they spotted them—two figures, one tall, one short. The ground around them was soaked in blood. Injured villagers moaned and cried in despair.
There they were!
"Star Platinum!"
The Stand emerged, and Logan tossed the Destruction Sword into its waiting hands.
"Ora!"
Star Platinum roared, spun the blade, and struck Logan's feet mid-leap.
BOOM.
Logan soared like a missile, his body surpassing the speed of sound, bursting through the air with an echoing sonic boom.
Star Platinum hurled the sword after him.
Logan caught it mid-air. Mountain-colored ripples surged into the blade, and golden energy radiated from its back.
A colossal figure with a golden blade and terrifying speed…
It could only be one person.
"Logan!" Kimimaro's expression finally shifted.
He scoured his memories of Logan's past battles, searching for a strategy—but for the first time, his usually composed mind returned…
A blank.
pàtreøn (Gk31)