CHAPTER 13

The scene remained within the spiritual world—an eerie domain filled with drifting memory bubbles and saturated with a strange, red-and-black aura. The overwhelming red glow enveloping the other version of Mizuki—Yuan Mizuki—had grown so intense that his original features were now obscured, his silhouette reduced to little more than a twisted outline. Through the haze, faint red lines—like cursed veins—ran across his body.

"It's almost over," Shuimu muttered. "Yuan Mizuki won't last much longer."

Quietly channeling his spiritual energy, Shuimu extended his hands. The once-dim magic array beneath his feet pulsed with a vibrant green light, expanding into a protective veil. The translucent seal wrapped itself around the red figure, pushing back the invasive fog and isolating most of the toxic chakra.

"If I hadn't activated the Four Symbols Seal, I would've completely lost myself to the corrosive chakra of the mutated Senjutsu technique," Shuimu reflected. "But without mastery over the more advanced Eight Trigrams Sealing Style, I've no way to anchor a stable source of chakra like a tailed beast."

This was the first time Shuimu had fully grasped the dangers festering in his spiritual core. Understanding his fragmented psyche became the top priority. It was easy to explain things away with clichés like "reincarnation" or "possession," but the truth was far more complicated.

Freud's theory of the id, ego, and superego fell short here. This wasn't merely a clash of psyche layers—it was a battle to distinguish "self" from "other." He held memories of a previous life, but how those memories traversed dimensions, or whether someone else remained to live his life in his place, was still unclear. Was he truly himself, or just a collection of memories?

Still, it didn't matter. That life was behind him. Now, he was Shuimu—and the entity in front of him was the remnant of Yuan Mizuki.

Logically, it shouldn't have been possible. With the weak will of someone raised in peacetime, how could he overpower the original Mizuki—a man molded by the Third Shinobi War, driven by obsession and a powerful will? Mizuki had home-field advantage—his own mind. He should have been unbeatable. But reality had defied expectation, meaning there had to be an explanation.

In this internal struggle, quality alone wasn't decisive. Shuimu's mental advantage came not from strength, but from scale—decades of accumulated knowledge, subconscious logic, and the sheer information density of a modern world. Like a DDoS attack crashing a superior system through brute volume, his soul overwhelmed Mizuki's by force of sheer data.

In spiritual conflict, there is no compromise. One soul must yield. All evidence pointed to Mizuki's loss. The echo of his will—the figure across from him—was nothing more than a soul fragment, an echo left behind.

Philosophically, what is the essence of identity? Plato claimed memory was knowledge; others claim memory is the soul itself. Either way, memory underpins self-awareness. The moment Yuan Mizuki lost that continuity, his identity crumbled. What remained was no different than a stone on the roadside—existing, yes, but devoid of sentience.

That should've been the end—but the curse mark changed everything.

Orochimaru's curse marks—Heaven and Earth—were rooted in his research into Senjutsu and immortality. They corroded both body and spirit, designed to break a host's resistance and prepare them as vessels for soul transfer.

In Shuimu's case, the curse mark was a flawed imitation, a semi-finished experiment. It bypassed Orochimaru's soul imprint stage, but replaced it with raw, unstable Senjutsu chakra. Instead of a targeted invasion, the entire environment—his spiritual landscape—became infected. Less precise, perhaps, but far more insidious.

Fortunately, Orochimaru hadn't personally engraved this mark. The original curse remained tethered to Yuan Mizuki's soul, where it now manifested in the spiritual plane. This meant the brunt of the curse's decay fell on the fragment—Yuan Mizuki—while Shuimu, aided by his sealing techniques, endured reduced damage.

Still, the effects were serious.

The curse mark shouldn't have reached this level of corruption. Shuimu blamed himself. By hijacking Mizuki's soul and absorbing his memories, he had robbed the original of his instinctive spiritual defenses. The gates were wide open—mentally and physically—leaving the body vulnerable to infiltration. Combined with the stimulation of Mitarashi Anko's residual chakra—the same source as the curse—everything had ignited like dry tinder meeting flame. In less than a month, Yuan Mizuki's resistance had been reduced to embers.

"If the world truly has a collective unconscious," Shuimu mused, "maybe I'll end up like a Heroic Spirit or some kind of conceptual entity… That wouldn't be fun."

He reached into the red fog and sensed it—it didn't feel malicious.

"No hostility… just strange. Is this an aesthetic issue? Or is the world itself indifferent—guided by instinct, not malice?"

He frowned. "But this red… this black… those are warning colors. Even if the world isn't targeting me, my subconscious senses danger. I don't have much time."

The next morning, birdcalls pulled Shuimu from slumber.

"The early bird catches the worm…"

He checked his jellyfish specimen and rare plant samples—no abnormalities. Satisfied, he went to shower. Standing before the mirror, he noted the changes.

"My hair's growing too fast," he muttered, eyeing the long silver strands now falling past his shoulders. "Bangs are almost covering my eyes again…"

He rubbed his temples. "And my body's deteriorating faster than expected."

Though the Four Symbols Seal was containing the spiritual decay, natural energy continued to erode him. His incomplete curse mark reacted violently to Senjutsu chakra, and the toll on his physical health was unsustainable. If he didn't finish designing a more effective sealing technique—something like an "Evil Sealing Method"—his body would collapse.

After finalizing his morning reports, Shuimu headed out. Ever since receiving orders from the Third Hokage, he had resumed a 9-to-5 lifestyle, mimicking his previous life as a salaryman. But even with his declining condition, he still found time to recover and analyze.

His metabolism burned through energy like wildfire, but it was inefficient. His body was wasting precious resources.

"Hey, if it isn't the pervy teacher!"

"What moron's yelling this early? You want a kunai in your throat?"

"Relax, it's just daily banter. Task complete?" asked Guy, flashing his signature grin.

"Yes, I've confirmed everything." Shuimu handed over the mission report.

"Thanks for helping my students last time!" said Guy.

"You're giving me too much credit. They're exceptional—I feel pressure as a Chūnin!" Shuimu laughed politely.

"THAT'S THE POWER OF YOUTH!" Guy shouted, striking a sparkling pose.

Shuimu chuckled awkwardly, then scheduled a new C-rank mission for the Genin and left.

"Iruka?"

"You're slacking, Shuimu. Be careful or they'll dock your nonexistent pay again," Iruka teased.

"They already have for three months…"

Iruka handed over a mission scroll. "New request. Take a look—see if it's C-rank material."

Shuimu's eyes sharpened. "The Land of Waves… already?"

This mission—escorting Tazuna—was canonically the pivotal prelude to the Chūnin Exams. Bridge-building was no small matter. Political interests, crime syndicates—many factors could complicate it.

"I'll take this to the Hokage," Shuimu said.

At the Hokage's office:

"Mizuki? What brings you here?"

"Lord Hokage, I believe this mission was misclassified."

The Third skimmed the report. "The client only reported bandits. That's within C-rank range. Do you have intel otherwise?"

"I've traveled through the Land of Waves. Organized crime controls the area. A civilian-funded bridge threatens their control. Sabotage is likely."

"You're suggesting the client is withholding details?"

"Yes, sir. I believe the threat level is higher."

The Third sighed. "Konoha's manpower is stretched thin. We can't spare a team just to investigate. I'll assign the right team—leave it to me."

"…Understood."

Outside, Shuimu muttered, "The inertia of canon is too strong. Until I have the power to force change, I'll have to flow with it. But… maybe I can use it."

He glanced up.

"But Momochi Zabuza… Haku… I'm in no shape to face them. For now, completing the Evil Sealing Method takes priority."