Naruto : Infinite Buff

A towering tree loomed ahead, its gnarled roots twisted like coiled serpents. Ryojin trailed behind Amatsu, eyes scanning for something—anything—but all he saw was rough bark, damp earth, and the endless suffocating mist.

He narrowed his golden eyes. "Hah. Not bad. I can't see it at all." His voice held an edge of amusement. "How'd you find it?"

Amatsu did not answer. He stepped forward, vanishing into the unseen.

Ryojin clicked his tongue and followed.

Inside, a dim space opened up beneath the roots. The air was damp, thick with the scent of moss and faint decay. A small figure sat in the center, pale hands delicately holding a strip of raw meat and obsidian snake laying on her laps. She turned, crimson eyes widening.

"Brother-Amatsu…" Higanbana's voice was soft, almost fragile, yet filled with quiet urgency. The strip of raw meat slipped from her fingers as she rose to her feet, her crimson eyes wide with concern.

She took a hesitant step closer, scanning him, searching for any sign of injury.

"You're not hurt… are you-you didn't get hurt right?" Her voice wavered slightly, uncertainty creeping in.

"Did anything happens?"

Her small hands clenched at her sleeve, a habit she had when anxious. She wanted to reach out, to check for herself, but hesitated. Instead, she stood there, watching him, waiting for reassurance that he was truly alright.

Amatsu said nothing. His silence was an answer in itself.

Ryojin smirked, arms crossed. "Yo! Meet again, little lady."

She glanced at him briefly before her gaze returned to Amatsu, searching, uncertain.

"Ah," Ryojin mused, catching onto something-looking at amatsu. "So your name's Amatsu?"

Higanbana blinked, then nodded.

"Tch. Figures." Ryojin stretched, rolling his shoulders. "Don't worry, kid. This guy's strong—killed four jōnin like swatting flies. He didn't even try."

Higanbana's tension eased. Her hands, clenched against her chest, slowly relaxed. A faint exhale left her lips, her expression softening.

Wordlessly, she turned, moving to a small woven basket in the corner. Inside, freshly picked fruits and a clay jar of water. She placed them before them, her movements quiet, gentle.

Ryojin whistled. "Well, ain't that nice? Free meal in the middle of enemy territory."

Amatsu sat, wordless, while Higanbana knelt beside him, brushing dirt from the fruit before offering it up. A moment passed, a quiet rhythm forming. The rain outside was relentless, but within these hidden roots, there was warmth.

And in her presence, the storm in Amatsu's world quieted—only for a moment.

Ryojin leaned against the rough bark, arms crossed, golden eyes glinting in the half-light. "What's next? We've got two hours, maybe less, before Hanzo and his dogs sniff us out."

Amatsu said nothing.

He sat with his back against the hollow's inner wall, his black eyes distant, unfocused yet sharp. He was thinking, calculating. His gaze drifted from Higanbana—who busied herself tending to Naga, her small hands carefully feeding the obsidian-colored snake—to Ryojin, then finally to the faint sliver of the outside world, barely visible through the hole in the tree.

The scent of wet earth filled the space, thick with moisture and decay. The world beyond was closing in.

"Escape routes." Amatsu's voice was flat, razor-sharp, devoid of hesitation. "All of them. Now."

Ryojin's smirk widened slightly. "Straight to business, huh?" He tapped a finger against his wrist, a faint clink of metal as his golden chains rattled softly. "This base is massive. A place this big has maintenance tunnels, sewage paths, old routes no one uses anymore. There are even water tunnels that connect to the underground streams. If we want to slip away, those are our best bets."

Amatsu absorbed the information, but his mind was elsewhere.

A memory.

Higanbana's voice, soft and uncertain, from long ago: There's something strange in Hanzo's base… A project. A laboratory. But no one speaks of it openly. Something… unnatural.

A laboratory.

Danzo and Hanzo weren't fools. They wouldn't waste resources on something meaningless. If a hidden research facility existed, it meant one thing—power. And power was something Amatsu couldn't afford to ignore.

His strength had reached a bottleneck. His system's buffs were developing slower, his natural growth stagnating. Normal training gave diminishing returns. He had already tested it. No matter how much effort he put in, the results were the same. Worse, time was a luxury he didn't have.

The enemy could appear at any moment.

He couldn't afford slow progress.

He had to exploit everything.

"We won't escape," Amatsu finally said, voice like cold steel.

Ryojin raised a brow. "Oh?" A grin tugged at his lips. "Interesting. Then what?"

Amatsu's gaze didn't waver. "We attack."

Silence.

Even the rain outside seemed to pause.

Higanbana looked up from Naga, crimson eyes widening. "Amatsu…"

Ryojin, however, chuckled. A low, dangerous sound. "Now that's a statement. And here I thought we'd be sneaking through the mud like rats."

Amatsu didn't respond immediately. His words had been calculated—to steer Ryojin, to align their goals. But his true objective ran deeper.

He needed that laboratory.

He didn't know how vast the world was, how many hidden dangers lurked beyond his current reach. Stronger enemies existed—he was certain of that. If he wanted to survive, to thrive, he had to strip everything useful from this place.

Ryojin's smile widened. "You've got my interest. What's the plan?"

"We exploit them." Amatsu's voice was steady, cold. "The base is prepared for infiltration, not internal chaos. If we strike first, we control the battlefield. We don't just kill. We dismantle. We tear apart their structure, force them into disarray."

Ryojin's golden eyes gleamed. "Heh… I like it."

Amatsu studied him carefully. This man is dangerous.

Ryojin wasn't just strong. He was unpredictable. The golden chains that emerged from his wrists—what kind of technique was that? They appeared from nothing, moved like living things, struck with terrifying speed. And beyond his abilities, there was his nature.

No hesitation in betrayal. No loyalty to the ones closest to him. He would kill his own allies if it served his goal.

A double-edged blade.

For now, he was useful.

"I made the right choice trusting you," Ryojin said, his tone light, but his gaze sharp.

Amatsu didn't respond. He simply watched him.

Ryojin trusted him?

No.

Ryojin trusted his own decision to align with him. That was different.

Trust wasn't something Amatsu dealt in. Only calculations. Ryojin's strength was an asset, but so was his willingness to discard those close to him. That meant, given the right conditions, he could be discarded as well.

The rain outside thickened, drumming against the earth like the prelude to a coming storm.

Amatsu turned his gaze back to Higanbana. She still looked uncertain, but she didn't argue.

She simply nodded and began preparing food.

Ryojin stretched, his chains rattling faintly. "Well, I'm ready whenever. I assume we're moving soon?"

"Soon," Amatsu confirmed. "Rest while you can."

He had more to consider.

The attack had to be precise. A full frontal assault was suicide. No—their first strike had to be deep, surgical. Cut the veins, let the body bleed itself dry.

And then…

The laboratory.

A place of secrets. Of power.

Amatsu's black eyes remained unreadable, but his mind was sharp as ever.

In two hours, the storm would begin.

And he would carve his path forward—no matter the cost.

---

Amatsu stood before Ryojin, his voice calm, decisive.

"Go back to the base camp. Prepare the thirty-seven orphans. Arm them. Loot everything—armor, weapons, explosive tags. Give them all they can carry."

Ryojin's usual lazy expression shifted. A cruel smile stretched across his face, sharp and knowing.

"I like your methods," he murmured. "One attack, all or nothing. A single gamble to decide everything."

"Now go."

Ryojin turned without hesitation, making his way toward the exit of their hidden shelter. But just as he reached the opening in the tree, Amatsu's voice cut through the air, cold and firm.

"Wait."

Ryojin stopped, glancing back. Amatsu extended his hand, revealing four small pills resting in his palm. Their surfaces gleamed faintly in the dim light.

Ryojin's golden eyes flickered with interest. He stepped closer, inspecting them with the eye of someone who had spent his life navigating death.

"These…" he muttered. "Pills developed from the laboratory."

His fingers hovered over the dark brown ones. "These are enhanced military pills. This version doesn't exist outside—only ANBU and elite special forces get their hands on them."

He glanced at Amatsu. "Taking one nearly doubles your chakra regeneration. Your speed, your reflexes—sharpened. Your strength increases by almost half. But the cost…"

Ryojin's smirk faded slightly. "The side effects are brutal. Once the boost fades, chakra depletion hits hard. Extreme fatigue. Possible internal bleeding. You'll feel like you're dying. No way to tell how long you'll be down afterward. Only use these when you have no other choice."

He shifted his gaze to the remaining two pills. His eyes narrowed.

"These…" He squinted, then his lips curled into an amused sneer. "Wait… what the hell? Is this… Viagra?"

Silence.

His gaze darted toward Higanbana. Then back to Amatsu. Then back to Higanbana.

"Well, guess you won't be needing this anytime soon." He chuckled. "She's still a kid, after all."

He tilted his head, scrutinizing her. "Hey, how old are you anyway?"

Higanbana hesitated, then answered softly. "Eight."

Ryojin scoffed, waving a hand. "You look more like six. Maybe seven."

She lowered her gaze, silent, a faint blush dusting her pale cheeks.

Amatsu said nothing, his expression unreadable, eyes cold as ever.

Ryojin grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. "Alright, alright, my bad. Just messing with you."

He stepped back, turning toward the exit once more. "I'll handle things on my end."

Amatsu's voice cut through the air again, quiet but absolute. "No failure. Failure means death."

Ryojin's expression shifted. The amusement drained from his face. His smirk vanished. What remained was something sharp, something dangerous.

"Understood."

Then he was gone, disappearing into the night like a phantom.

Amatsu glanced down at the two remaining military pills in his hand. He closed his fingers around them, his mind cold, calculating.

A last resort.