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"Where did he go?" Igawa grabbed the collar of an Anbu ninja, his grip tightening with barely restrained fury.
"I… I don't know… After the meeting, he went to Hōzuki Mangetsu's residence, and then… he just disappeared!" The Anbu ninja's voice trembled with unease.
That day, though the Mizukage had yet to officially announce the selection tournament, the news had already spread within the Anbu ranks.
As a member of the Anbu, this ninja had also entertained thoughts of becoming a candidate, which had distracted him. When Midorima entered the Hōzuki household, his surveillance had grown lax.
Before this, Midorima's frequent visits to the Hōzuki residence were nothing unusual, so this time should have been no different.
Yet, to his surprise, Midorima did not emerge from the Hōzuki compound the next day—nor on the third or fourth day.
It was only then that the Anbu ninja realized Midorima might have slipped away under the cover of night or hidden himself somewhere within the Hōzuki estate.
But he didn't dare say it outright—such negligence could cost him his head.
"Disappeared? How the hell could he just disappear?!" Igawa slammed his fist on the table, a sinister smirk curling his lips. "Hōzuki Mangetsu… You're playing games with me!! I want the Hōzuki compound under full surveillance. I refuse to believe that bastard can stay hidden forever!"
...
"Big brother, our house is being watched!"
The moment Mangetsu stepped into the estate, Suigetsu appeared behind him.
"Isn't that normal?" Mangetsu chuckled.
The Anbu were always involved in shady dealings—sometimes like the sewers of the village, filthy and rotten, yet indispensable.
"No, this time there are more of them," Suigetsu shook his head.
"Has surveillance increased on the other clans as well?" Mangetsu asked.
"Only us. According to Zabuza, it's related to Midorima's disappearance?"
"Hmm…" Mangetsu rubbed his chin, deep in thought. "Let's pretend we don't notice them. Carry on as usual."
"But what about Midorima…?"
"What about him?" Mangetsu smirked. "In all of Kirigakure, the only one who has it out for him is Igawa. If even they don't know where Midorima is, that means he's safe, right?"
"Where could Midorima be hiding?" Suigetsu wondered aloud.
"As long as he returns before the selection tournament begins, it's fine."
Midorima wasn't someone he was particularly close to—their relationship was purely transactional.
He had given Midorima an opportunity. Whether Midorima could seize it was none of his concern.
Of course, if by some miracle Midorima actually became one of the Seven Swordsmen—a probability Mangetsu estimated to be about as likely as himself becoming Mizukage—then Midorima would owe him a favor.
Having an ally among the Seven would grant him significant influence in their decision-making.
Kisame had recognized this as well, which was why he had pushed for Hoshigaki's participation in the selection.
Over the next month leading up to the tournament, Midorima's progress would determine how far he could go.
Compared to the others, Midorima's sole advantage was his status as a medical ninja—he wasn't obligated to take on missions, and Shimomura had tacitly allowed his absence, giving him ample time to train.
While the others were bogged down by missions, Midorima could focus entirely on honing his skills.
"Do you think he stands a chance this time?" Suigetsu muttered as he trailed behind Mangetsu.
"Suigetsu…"
"Yeah?"
"Don't worry about him. His success or failure is his own doing. What I care about is you. In the future, you must take down one of the Seven Swordsmen… That is the honor our Hōzuki clan must uphold." Mangetsu patted Suigetsu's head. "Ideally, you should pick your target in advance."
"I already have… Midorima Asachi." Suigetsu lifted his chin.
Mangetsu blinked in surprise. "Him? Isn't that setting the bar a bit low?"
"But right now, I can't even beat him." Suigetsu crossed his arms, frustration evident in his voice.
"Fair point. If you can't surpass him, the gap between you and the likes of Zabuza or Mei will only grow wider." Mangetsu nodded.
Even if Midorima's strength improved rapidly, he was still fundamentally a medical ninja. Surely Suigetsu could catch up to him, right?
...
No matter how much people outside speculated about Midorima's whereabouts, he paid them no mind—he had neither the time nor the patience.
Nearly every day, he engaged in fierce battles with the Third Mizukage. In his spare time, he either treated his own injuries or tended to the Third whenever the man regained his sanity.
During this period, the Third did not hold back, bombarding Midorima with high-level Water Release, Lightning Release, or even combined Water-Lightning techniques, ensuring Midorima intimately understood the phrase—pain and pleasure intertwined.
Of course, many of these jutsu were deciphered by the [Analysis Lab], including several A-rank techniques like Lightning Release: Shadow Clone Technique and Water Release: Great Shark Bullet Technique.
By the second week of his isolation with the Third, the [Analysis Lab] completed an upgrade, unlocking the ability to decipher S-rank techniques—albeit with only a 10% success rate. Meanwhile, the success rate for A-rank techniques rose to 30%, and B-rank to 50%.
Pumped with adrenaline, Midorima risked life and limb daily, altering his strategy from cautious counterattacks to outright aggression.
His goal was singular—force the Third to use S-rank techniques as often as possible to maximize the [Analysis Lab]'s chances of decoding them.
However, S-rank techniques consumed enormous amounts of chakra. Even with the Third's vast reserves, he couldn't unleash them like fireworks every day.
From start to finish, the Third had only used two S-rank techniques, and both times, Midorima had nearly died. The [Analysis Lab] had failed to crack them both.
Given the mere 10% success rate, failure was to be expected.
Disappointing, but not unexpected.
Over the course of nearly a month, Midorima had been on the receiving end of relentless beatdowns. Even when he took the initiative, the outcome remained unchanged—he was simply outmatched.
Still, there were moments of satisfaction. Twice, he had managed to drive the Third away—though the cost had been a broken arm.
With the tournament looming, Midorima planned one final ambush—hit hard, then flee. If escape failed, death was the alternative. A thrilling gamble.
But as he approached the Third this time, he found the man seated cross-legged by the shore, fishing rod in hand, gazing out at the sea.
At the sight, Midorima sighed. The Third was lucid.
In the beginning, the Third's moments of clarity had been fleeting, his madness prolonged. Now, the balance had shifted—his lucid periods were longer, his fits of insanity shorter.
Since the Third was sane, there was no point in a final challenge.