Hyūga Tokuma took in everything with his Byakugan.
The four attacking Leo were clearly a squad—choreographed combo techniques, seamless timing. One specialized in tool-based offense and defense, while the other three chained Earth, Fire, and even Wind Release into devastating team jutsu.
If the rear guard was this coordinated, then the ones ahead—trying to intercept them—had to be a matching team too.
He stopped short.
One hand shot out to halt Ishiki Kujo and Aburame Mutaguchi, the other readying a Gentle Fist stance.
That's when two blade-wielding figures materialized from the shadows and slashed at Ishiki.
But Tokuma was faster.
He'd tracked every twitch of their chakra from the start. His hands struck out to intercept—
And then a sharp pain surged through his fingers.
His face darkened.
"They rigged their clothes!" he realized.
They knew he was Hyūga. They wanted close combat.
Of course they'd booby-trapped themselves.
His eyes flicked to the edge of his vision—two more identical chakra signatures entered his field.
"Shadow clones!"
He'd barely processed it when Ishiki and Mutaguchi struck the trapped attackers.
Two puffs of chakra mist—clones dispelled.
But the impact left behind a cloud of pink smoke—poison gas.
The poison was laced into the attackers' clothes.
Even Byakugan couldn't see it until it was too late.
Before anyone could react, Ishiki had already drawn a vial, popped the lid, and flicked three antidote pills.
One into his own mouth.
Two others—expertly aimed—landed right in Tokuma and Mutaguchi's.
Grabbing their wrists, Ishiki pushed his chakra into them—Chakra Auditory Diagnosis, a medical ninjutsu technique. By flowing his own chakra into theirs, he read their internal state.
He needed to determine the severity of the toxin—and immediately perform Fine Affliction Extraction to pull it out.
His own toxin? Already neutralized. The Yang Release Mode coursing through his body purged it the instant it entered.
"Incoming!" Tokuma warned, sweat on his brow. The poison was stronger than expected.
"I've got this," Ishiki replied, slipping seamlessly into Yang-Style Chakra Mode—his body glowing gold.
Fingers flashing, he tapped both teammates.
A swirl of pink toxins were drawn out like ink from water.
Then the attackers finally arrived—two shadows bursting through the poisoned air.
Clone or not, it didn't matter.
Touching them directly was out of the question.
Tokuma's palms flared with chakra.
Gentle Fist's standard technique—chakra-reinforced palms—now unleashed at full strength.
But Ishiki was quicker.
He finished a hand seal.
Fire Style: Great Fireball Technique.
It was cliché, unimpressive, even mocked among ninja—but Ishiki had no intention of using it normally.
Behind him, something erupted into view:
A muscular humanoid figure, cloaked in flickering flames, with a grotesque chicken-like head.
Red Magician.
His Stand manifested boldly, without hesitation.
Both Mutaguchi and Tokuma sensed the presence—one through sheer mental acuity, the other through Byakugan—and both tensed, uncertain if the flaming monster was friend or foe.
"Don't worry," Ishiki reassured. "It's mine. Helps me control fire more precisely."
The Great Fireball roared forward—massive, bright—and the two attackers darted sideways to avoid the obvious trajectory.
But the moment they moved—
WHAM!
Two cross-marked fire serpents slithered out of the original fireball, jaws open wide, striking like burning vipers.
Red Magician's fire control was leagues beyond Ishiki's.
And with Red Magician handling the flames, Ishiki could cast other jutsu simultaneously.
He clapped his hands—suddenly, foam began to gather between his palms, slick and sparkling, thanks to his homemade gloves.
He flung the bubbles outward, scattering them across the battlefield.
Another hand seal—his fingers blurred.
The enemies had no idea the fireball had backup. They blocked the snakes with short blades—but then stared in horror.
Their metal began to melt.
Panicked, one of them puffed out his cheeks—
Water Style: Water Dragon Bullet Technique!
The dragon surged out, smashing into the fire serpents, vaporizing both fire and water in an explosion of steam.
Perfect cover for the bubbles.
The enemy had unknowingly helped Ishiki, filling the field with steam—ideal camouflage for Ripple-charged bubbles.
From within the mist, the bubbles drifted silently, closing in.
But the enemy ninja weren't amateurs.
They'd already guessed Ishiki's bubble jutsu from earlier and purposely created the steam screen to buy themselves a window of attack.
The one who hadn't used jutsu yet tossed his short blade aside and yanked a kunai from his pouch, stabbing the nearest bubble.
He'd braced for an explosion.
But nothing burst.
Instead, the bubble expanded, enveloping the kunai and his hand.
His expression froze.
"It's… not a bubble—it's a Water Prison!"
The bubble bloated, drawing moisture and heat from the mist—growing rapidly.
In under three seconds, it completely encased the man's body—floating above the ground like a giant gelatinous orb.
"How—how is this possible?!" he screamed, struggling helplessly inside.
Ishiki smiled coldly.
"Bubbles? That's old news."
"This... is my Water Prison."