Chapter 72: Hero

The Nine-Tails had no intention of meddling.

Because in this world of strays…

Meddlers died quickly.

There were no heroes here.

No noble figures who fought for justice.

Just survival.

The Nine-Tails didn't want trouble.

But trouble… found it first.

A scout from a nearby dog pack spotted the Nine-Tails—

And more importantly, the bone in its mouth.

The aroma of that bone—rich, savory—was irresistible.

Even in the world of strays, there was a hierarchy.

Bosses. Underlings.

And this mangy mutt, this watchdog, was nothing more than a grunt—a bottom-feeder who barely got scraps.

"Hey, you! Mutt! Drop that food and leave it behind!"

The mutt barked twice.

It didn't matter if this was actually its turf.

It had seen the bone—so now, it belonged to it.

The Nine-Tails shot it a cold, sharp glare.

It didn't pick fights.

But that didn't mean it was afraid of them.

"Scram."

The growl was low, menacing, the bone firmly between its teeth.

The mutt was used to bullying others in its territory—used to throwing its weight around like it actually mattered.

But now?

Now, it was being mocked.

It couldn't let that slide.

"BARK! BARK!"

With an angry snarl, it lunged for the Nine-Tails—aiming to snatch the bone right from its mouth.

A flash of disdain flickered in the Nine-Tails' eyes.

Lone wanderers among strays came in two types:

The pathetic ones.

And the ones who were strong enough to survive alone.

The Nine-Tails was the latter.

The moment the mutt lunged, the Nine-Tails swiped—

And slammed it into the ground.

"Pathetic."

Cold. Sharp.

If this weren't enemy territory, the Nine-Tails would've killed the mutt right then and there.

But for now—

"Get lost."

The Nine-Tails released its grip.

The mutt knew.

It had messed with the wrong dog.

Whimpering, tail tucked between its legs, it fled.

The Nine-Tails turned to leave.

But—

It was too late.

The mutt hadn't been a threat.

But it had been a distraction.

And when it had barked earlier—

It wasn't just yelling.

It had been signaling.

From the shadows, a massive mastiff stepped forward.

In its mouth—

A small, white cat.

Or at least… it used to be white.

Now, its fur was soaked in red.

"You came to my territory… beat my underling… stole my food… and thought you could just walk away?"

The mastiff was huge—as large as a calf.

Brutal. Battle-scarred.

Clearly the leader of this stray pack.

Around them—

One by one—

Other strays emerged from the shadows.

A dozen. Maybe more.

And among them—

The mangy mutt, its eyes gleaming with malice.

The Nine-Tails stared them down, its expression unwavering.

"I didn't come looking for trouble."

"But if you're looking to die, I won't stop you."

Among strays, the moment you showed fear—

You were done.

You had to be ferocious.

Make them doubt.

Make them hesitate.

Then—maybe—they'd let you go.

But this was his turf.

And letting a loner walk away with food?

That would be shameful.

The mastiff wasn't going to let that happen.

"Drop the bone."

"Then you can leave."

The Nine-Tails let out a low, rumbling growl.

"This is mine."

"Try to take it—"

"And you die."

The other dogs snarled, baring their fangs.

The Nine-Tails' eyes turned icy cold.

If they wanted to take from it—

Then they'd have to pay in blood.

The mastiff, still towering over them all, watched in silence.

This stray—

Even when surrounded—

Still wouldn't back down.

But numbers were on its side.

It wasn't afraid.

It was time to settle this.

The mastiff dropped the bloody cat.

The Nine-Tails released its bone.

A fight was about to begin.

A hoarse, guttural growl rumbled from the Nine-Tails' throat.

Take down the leader—take down the pack.

Without hesitation, the Nine-Tails lunged straight for the mastiff.

Before the other dogs could react—

Its fangs sank into the mastiff's throat.

Sharp teeth tore through flesh.

Blood spilled instantly.

The mastiff let out a furious roar, thrashing wildly—

And the other strays attacked.

They bit.

They tore.

They ripped at the Nine-Tails' body.

But the Nine-Tails did not let go.

It refused.

Even as its body was shredded by claws and teeth—

Even as pain burned through every nerve—

It held on tighter.

If it had to die, it would take this bastard down with it.

Blood poured from the mastiff's neck, soaking the ground beneath them.

And finally—

The mastiff collapsed.

Dead.

The Nine-Tails released its grip.

Blood dripped from its mouth.

Its entire body was covered in wounds—deep, gaping bite marks from the wild attack.

But—

It was still standing.

The mastiff lay in a pool of its own blood, its body twitching, its life fading.

The other dogs froze.

Their leader—gone.

They had no orders.

No direction.

The Nine-Tails lifted its head, eyes burning with rage.

"GET LOST!"

The strays hesitated for only a second—

Then turned tail and ran.

The alley fell silent.

The Nine-Tails watched them disappear—

Then, its legs gave out.

It collapsed.

Its breathing was ragged.

Its body throbbed with pain.

Ten against one had been too much.

But what choice did it have?

Strays don't get choices.

Survive—

Or die.

The Nine-Tails dreamed.

It was back in the Shinobi World—

Back when it was the mighty Tailed Beast.

It saw an old man, standing before it.

"You must understand peace… You must learn to coexist… To understand one another."

Then—

It woke up.

Pain flared through its body.

"Where… is this…?"

And—

It was starving.

As it tried to sit up, something soft pressed against its chest.

Something warm.

A white ball of fluff.

"What the—?"

The Nine-Tails nudged it with its paw.

It was a cat.

A pure white cat, without a single speck of dirt.

And around its neck—

A blue collar.

A pet.

"Who are you?"

The cat stirred, blinking awake.

And the moment it saw the Nine-Tails—

Its face lit up with joy.

"Hero! Hero! You're my hero!"

The Nine-Tails froze.

"What…?"

"What did you just call me?!"

The white cat tilted its head.

"You saved me from those monsters! That makes you my hero!"

It nuzzled against the Nine-Tails' fur, rubbing its cheek against it.

Close. Warm. Affectionate.

The Nine-Tails stiffened.

From the moment it could remember, it had always been alone.

It had never had companions.

Never had warmth.

And now—

Someone was getting this close?

Fear gripped its chest.

Not fear of death.

Not fear of battle.

But fear of this strange warmth.

Even when it had been surrounded by ten strays, it hadn't felt a hint of fear.

But now?

It didn't know what to do.

"Stop clinging to me!"

It grumbled, shaking itself slightly.

"And tell me—what happened after I blacked out? Your wounds… they seem much better."

Its tone was awkward.

The white cat, still beaming, replied cheerfully.

"Oh! A human came!"

"They treated our wounds!"

"They also said something weird… Something about how 'when a life has love, it also has weakness'… So strange, right?"

The Nine-Tails stiffened.

It glanced around.

The alley was still dark.

But—

The mastiff's body was gone.

It narrowed its eyes.

The pack would come back.

It had to leave.

Now.

But the white cat—

Still happily chatting—didn't seem to notice the danger.

"Oh! By the way, my name's Xia! What's yours, hero?"

"Kurama."

The Nine-Tails huffed.

Irritated.

But—

For some reason—

It didn't push the cat away.

°°°

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