"I'm in the Dragon Clan, what the heck is the Naruto Counterattack System?"

Chapter 62 Wake Up, Wood Release (Seeking Monthly Tickets)

2024 10 Month 15 Day.

Just like its name "Foggy City," London, England, is shrouded in fog even at dawn after the rain, with only the faint outline of thick fog visible.

A detached villa is like a withered old man, quietly watching over this silent, dark night.

In the fog, a car slowly drove into the villa's garage. Inside, a young man in a hoodie trembled as he reached out and turned off the engine and headlights.

The car was pitch black and deathly silent. The man leaned back in his seat, his expression unreadable, only his heavy, suppressed breathing could be heard.

"Whoosh—whoosh—"

He clutched his waist tightly with one hand and took off his clothes with the other.

Blood had soaked through his shirt and pants, and the wounds had clearly been treated urgently, but anyone who saw the way he was bandaged would only feel a sense of horror and phantom pain.

Because he used transparent tape, which even had the company's logo printed on it, he could only ensure that the blood wouldn't flow out and wouldn't be seen by people checking at the intersection.

The man didn't turn on the garage lights, but only the car's interior lights, and took out his phone to turn on the flashlight.

Then, he took a box from the car's storage compartment at his feet, ignoring the various black gun parts inside, and pulled out adrenaline, tetanus medication, iodine, and bandages.

"call!"

The man gritted his teeth and endured the pain as he tore off the tape. The wound below had already scabbed over, but it cracked open as he gradually peeled off the tape, revealing a layer of bloody flesh underneath. Small streams of blood flowed down his waist and abdomen.

First, he injected himself with adrenaline, then put a towel in his mouth and bit it down, and used tweezers to insert into the wound, where he encountered a hard object.

That thing was like a bone that had grown into his body; even the slightest touch caused his abdominal muscles to spasm and twitch in pain.

"Whoosh—whoosh—··"

The man gripped the object with tweezers, took a few deep breaths to prepare, and then suddenly exerted force.

"snort!"

As the tweezers were pulled out, blood gushed from the wound. The instantaneous pain made him groan, as if a bone had been pulled out of his flesh.

But we can't stop—

The man bit down hard on the towel in his mouth and used a sterile cotton ball to wipe the wound directly, which was tantamount to cutting the wound again, causing his face to turn pale suddenly.

Only after all the cotton balls were stained red and the wound had stopped bleeding did he apply the medicine to a piece of gauze.

Then press it on the wound and wrap the bandage tightly around the waist.

"Whoosh—whoosh—"

Half a minute later, his blurred vision slowly returned, and cold sweat gradually slid down his cheeks. He raised his trembling arm and glanced at what he had pulled out.

It was a piece of shrapnel soaked in blood, about three or four centimeters long, completely embedded in his body.

These are fragments from a hand grenade.

The target of this assassination was a Russian. No problems were found before the operation, but unexpectedly, the employer betrayed them after the target was killed.

He preferred using a knife to assassinate someone with a gun, silently slitting their throat.

Someone saw through his habits and planted landmines along his escape route.

If he hadn't noticed something was wrong and jumped out of the window without hesitation, he wouldn't have suffered these injuries; he would have been blown into the air by a grenade.

The man received a tetanus shot, put his blood-stained clothes back on, and looked up at himself in the mirror.

Black hair and black eyes are typical Asian features, but his bloodshot eyes look like they might burst at any moment.

His face was now covered in bruises and blood.

The man looked tired and took out a pack of cigarettes and matches.

The match struck the box and lit with a crackling sound. He took a drag of the cigarette, the smoke filling his body and circulating through his lungs, the exhaled smoke rising and obscuring his face.

The man turned to look at the rising sun outside the window, and his words, tinged with the mist, came out softly: "How pathetic."

Because of his older sister, he doesn't have a smoking addiction, nor is it possible for him to develop one.

After using nicotine to slightly relieve the pain, the man looked down at his phone screen.

[Image (delivered)]

Looking at the photo of the target's corpse that he had sent to his "employer" on his phone, the man took out his SIM card and smashed it.

I've been in this business for five years and have been double-crossed quite a few times, but this is the first time I've encountered someone this ruthless. I almost got taken down this time.

Judging from the model number remaining on the grenade fragments, he got involved in something he shouldn't have.

"Troublesome," the man muttered, habitually stubbing out the burning cigarette butt with his fingers. "We have to move again." He carefully collected the bloodstained cotton balls, banknotes, syringes, and shrapnel, wiped away the remaining bloodstains in the car, and finally checked every corner to make sure no traces were left.

Swelling.

The man got out of the car, locked the door, and even sprayed himself with cologne to cover up the smell of smoke on his body.

Seeing that all the lights in the villa were off, he breathed a sigh of relief and quietly opened the door to enter the living room.

Carbohydrate.

The moment he stepped into the living room, he seemed to sense a sound, his body stiffened instinctively, but he quickly pulled up his hood.

Ignoring the gazes coming from the living room, he quickened his pace slightly, head down, intending to head directly to his room.

"Xiao Yuan".

The sound from behind made him stop in his tracks, but he didn't turn around.

Until the footsteps came up behind him.

"Look at me, Xiao Yuan," she said. "Take off your hat."

The man pursed his lips, took off his hood, and turned to look behind him.

It was a young woman in her pajamas who saw the injury on her brother's face.

"You—" the woman's voice trembled slightly, "Xiao Yuan—."

The man didn't speak, but simply looked away, no longer looking into her eyes, and forced a smile, saying:

Sis, go to sleep, it's very late.

"How am I supposed to sleep!"

The woman interrupted him angrily, but the next second she took a few steps forward, looked up, her eyes red, and reached out to touch his face. Her hand trembled slightly as she touched the wound.

"Listen to me, Xiao Yuan."

She exhaled and said, "Let's go home. We'll hire the best lawyer. You killed that person because you saw me being bullied. If we find a good lawyer, you can get a lighter sentence. I'll go with you."

It's not that simple. I not only killed him, I chopped him into pieces, and then fled abroad.

The man felt a pang of bitterness, but he knew that the most important thing now was to calm his sister, who was easily flustered by her concern, so he nodded and smiled, "Okay, let's go home and leave tomorrow."

Upon hearing this, the woman seemed surprised that he agreed so readily. She paused for a moment, then a smile instantly appeared on her face.

"I'll go help you pack your things."

She wiped away her tears and ran to the bedroom with a smile.

Watching her figure disappear from sight, the man sighed and turned to look at the living room. He saw the food covered up on the dining table, as well as the cushions and pillows on the chairs.

The clock on the wall was still ticking away.

He could imagine someone preparing dinner at night, sitting there waiting for him to come home, until the food got cold, then reheating it, only to have it cool again, then reheating it again, only to have it cool again—"

She listened to the ticking of the clock and felt the passage of time until drowsiness overcame her and she fell into a deep sleep on the table, until the sound of familiar footsteps woke her up.

He doesn't regret his choice when he's living a life of hiding and running. Even if he had to do it all over again, he would still chop that guy into mincemeat.

But I have to lie to her again.

With that thought in mind, the man looked at the sofa in the living room, his gaze lingering for a moment unconsciously.

There is a delivery box there.

"By the way, Xiao Yuan."

The woman suddenly poked her head out of the bedroom, holding a silver briefcase, and said, "A package arrived yesterday afternoon, and the recipient's name is yours. Would you like to take a look—"

Upon seeing the silver combination briefcase, the man standing in the living room paused for a moment, then suddenly heard a strange sound.

The sound of clocks, but not just one.

Instantly, his eyes widened, and he instinctively shouted, "Don't move—"

Almost the instant he spoke, his black pupils reflected a shimmering, illusory light.

boom!!

At that moment, chaos and pain completely filled his mind, and his memories seemed to be fragmented.

The distorted, fragmented images surged like a tide, and the white light engulfed him standing on the beach, but the color that blinded his eyes was pitch black.

The sky was black, and there was no light.

The sun and moon have disappeared from the sky.

Only in the distant sky, the red sea of ​​clouds seemed to melt, looking incredibly oppressive and eerie, as if blood was spreading and staining the sea of ​​clouds and space, and the steel and concrete of the ruins of the high-rise buildings below looked like they were bleeding.

It looked like a dead person trapped in a sandy swamp, its outstretched arm struggling in agony, creating a brutal and eerie scene against the blood-red sky...

He saw a tree, the only giant tree standing between heaven and earth. It stretched as far as the eye could see, with only a glimpse of one side. The deeper he looked, the more it was swallowed up by the dim sky.

However, it appears to have withered and died.

Rooted in the ground beneath its feet, the tree pierces through the clouds and connects with the sky. The withered and twisted red branches extend and grow in all directions, like the blood-red veins pulsating in the black sky, presenting a strange and eerie beauty.

On that tree, the messy bluish-purple lines looked like countless snakes writhing, or like hieroglyphs on an ancient stone tablet. They came to life and danced like elves.

This is not a place you should be staying.

Someone whispered in his ear, "Death is not our end; everything we lose will return in another form."

"Wake up when you've had enough sleep."

From Xia Mi's perspective, the moment the "Symphony of Destiny" began to play, Qi Xiuyuan, Chu Zihang, and the man in black robes were trapped in an illusion, frozen in place.

Xia Mi was only in a brief daze before she instantly regained her senses. She recognized the dragon script mixed in with the music and couldn't help but feel a chill run down her spine.

"This word of power—"

She might not know the name of this Word of Power, but she felt a familiar power.

That power even allowed her, the Dragon King, to see a illusory world. The concepts of reality and illusion became blurred within the realm of this power of words. It could create real dreams out of thin air without any visual contact, allowing people to suffer endless torment or endless pleasure in their dreams.

It can even allow people to experience life and death in a fantasy world; if someone dies in the fantasy world, they will also die in reality.

This power could not possibly be wielded by human hybrids. This authority did not even belong to the dragon kings themselves, but to the White King who had died long before their birth.

Even—

Nidhogg, the Black King.

Realizing this, Xia Mi did not hesitate to imitate Chu Zihang, freezing in place and her pupils becoming unfocused and lifeless.

However, at the end, she glanced at the man in black robes and sensed his bloodline being slightly suppressed.

"Words of Power, precepts?" Xia Mi gave him a deep look.

Snap... Snap... —... —

At this moment, the sound of footsteps gradually approached, crisp, ethereal, and light, revealing the owner's joy.

A middle-aged man with crimson-gold eyes walked into the hall, carrying a black briefcase in his hand, followed by a dozen expressionless "attendants".

Kazuo Miyamoto, the master of this place, has stepped out from behind the scenes to the forefront.

He didn't even glance at Chu Tianjiao, Chu Zihang, and Xia Mi. Instead, he stood in front of Qi Xiuyuan and looked down at the young man, the lamplight casting his shadow over him.

Miyamoto Kazuo's gaze swept over Qi Xiuyuan bit by bit, as if he wanted to hold every inch of his skin in his hands, the greed in his eyes was as if he wanted to squeeze every drop of blood out of him.

"What a great tool!"

With a slow, deep exhale, his face showed satisfaction and pleasure as he looked at Qi Xiuyuan and grinned, saying, "Now, it's mine."

As he spoke, he raised his hand and reached out to Qi Xiuyuan in front of him. Xia Mi frowned slightly when she saw this.

"Qi Xiuyuan actually fell for it?"

Although it's unclear how that hybrid wielded supreme authority, it must have been through some underhanded means. The power of this incantation is simply not commensurate with its level and effect.

If it were the White King, or even any other Dragon King, she would have to admit defeat.

But now it's just an incomplete, inferior imitation.

"Damn it," Xia Mi thought angrily. "He's not some old codger at all. Looks like I was fooled!"

Thinking this, she was about to make a move, but then she stopped.

Before anyone could react, Qi Xiuyuan, who had been frozen in place, raised his hand.

Instantly, blood burst from his arm like iron scales blooming, and several ghastly scarlet thorns grew out like flesh and bone wings.

It left a bloody afterimage in the air, accompanied by a sharp whistling sound, and fiercely stabbed towards Miyamoto Kazuo in front of him.

Why?

Kazuo Miyamoto's mind went almost blank, his eyes fixed only on the sharp thorn that was inches away.

puff! !

Two "attendants" stepped in front of him just in time, instantly piercing through their bodies and creating several holes.

Blood-red thorns tore their bodies apart, and blood gushed out like a geyser, raining red blood throughout the hall.

Faced with that piercing shriek, not to mention a human body cast in flesh and blood, even an alloy would be pierced.

"Kill him!!"

Miyamoto Kazuo instantly created distance, and at the same time roared without hesitation.

The group of "attendants" neatly pulled out syringes filled with an unidentified purplish-red liquid, plunged them into his necks, and injected all the liquid. Golden pupils appeared in their eyes, and they hissed as they lunged at Qi Xiuyuan, trying to tear him away.

Tear it apart.

As those crimson thorns danced wildly, it was as if a lullaby from hell was playing.

The sounds of skulls cracking, hand bones breaking, skin tearing, and bodies shattering—

There was no light or fire of incantation, only pure slaughter.

The servants who rushed forward seemed to have jumped into a blender, with severed limbs and thick blood flying and splashing everywhere. Even Xia Mi, who was watching this scene, couldn't help but twitch her eyelids.

Until finally, everything came to a stop.

Thorns that drew several bloody lines in the air pierced through Miyamoto Kazuo's body, and Qi Xiuyuan also opened his eyes.

It was like waking up from a nightmare that lasted a lifetime, with repressed memories seeping to the surface as the ice melted, and seeing a familiar yet unfamiliar screen of light in front of me.

[You broke free from Uchiha Shisui's Mangekyou Sharingan technique, Kotoamatsukami. You became the fisherman who ultimately benefited from the clam-clam struggle. You receive the reward: Talent Branch - Rank A - Wood Release: Cell Transplant Version.]

Besides, all he could see was a crimson color, and a nauseating, thick smell of blood filled his nostrils. His face was wet and warm, and he instinctively thought it was tears, but then he felt the weight in his hands.

Beneath his feet, severed limbs piled up into a mountain of corpses and a sea of ​​blood, while a light red rain fell from the sky, the blood flowing down to stain him a solemn crimson.

His right hand gripped Miyamoto Kazuo's neck and held it high in front of him, his scarlet eyes adorned with three crimson-gold magatama.

He saw clearly Miyamoto Kazuo's terrified face and those golden eyes that were bulging out of their sockets.

"How...how could you...?" the man said in fear, spitting out blood.

Qi Xiuyuan looked at the thorns in his hand, which resembled sharp scales with pointed edges, so sharp they seemed capable of slicing through alloy, turning his entire arm into a deadly weapon.

He knew this was his "Wood Release" technique, and he quickly understood everything before him.

"...I have to admit it."

Qi Xiuyuan let out a breath, looked up at Miyamoto Kazuo, and said calmly, "This time, you've really angered me."