Chapter 68: Opportunity for Promotion

No one knows what really happened in the men's bath that day.

All people knew was that from that night on, the Demon Zabuza never said things like "I'm not convinced" or "Logan's nothing special" again.

Konan vaguely recalled hearing shouts and muffled cursing coming from the other side of the wall, but the noise eventually died down.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, her hair damp and wrapped in a robe, she happened to cross paths with Logan, who was also just leaving.

"Drink?" Logan offered, holding out a bottle of cold milk.

"Thanks." Konan took it, twisted off the cap, and downed half in one go. A drop slid from the corner of her mouth and trailed down her throat, disappearing beneath the shadows of her robe.

She blinked when the chill touched her chest. Quickly wiping the drop away, she tightened her collar and looked at Logan with a guarded expression.

To her surprise, Logan was already walking ahead, sipping from his own bottle without sparing her a glance.

The night breeze rolled in with the mist, tousling his hair. Moonlight fell softly on him, casting a faint glow that made the scene feel strangely poetic.

Konan had to admit—Terumi Mei was right. If Logan ever gave up being a ninja, he'd make a killing in Kabuki Street.

But something about Logan's mood felt off.

She approached quietly. "You told Terumi Mei earlier: 'If you're confused, don't pull the trigger.' But you—what's got you confused now?"

Logan raised an eyebrow, surprised. He hadn't expected Konan to initiate conversation, let alone read him so easily.

"What's that look?" she said, half-smiling. "I've run the Akatsuki for years. I know how to read people. Is it the fight in three days?"

Logan shook his head.

The upcoming battle for the title of Mizukage was important—critical, even. But the decisions had been made. The plan was set. Now, it was just a matter of execution.

Victory or defeat depended on fate.

What weighed on Logan's mind was something else entirely.

He popped the milk bottle cap off with his thumb and flicked it high into the air.

"Star Platinum."

Time froze.

In that suspended moment, Star Platinum appeared, caught the bottle cap, and returned it to Logan's hand.

Time resumed its normal flow.

"…Huh?" Konan blinked. She stared at the bottle cap now resting in Logan's palm. "Wait—how did you…?"

Logan sighed. "I wish I knew what kind of 'magic trick' this really is."

Star Platinum, Level 5.

After investing four thousand soul fragments to reach the Stand's maximum level, Logan could now see the world around him in extreme slow motion—at least from Star Platinum's perspective.

Power. Speed. Precision.

Anyone who stepped within two meters of Logan would be shredded by a storm of punches in under half a second.

If Logan focused hard enough, the world would seem to slow to a crawl, as though—

Time itself had stopped.

But it was fleeting. Too short. Just long enough for one punch.

After that, the effect vanished.

"When Star Platinum hit max level," Logan thought, "it touched the edge of time stop… but it's still missing something."

In the original JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, Jotaro developed the ability to stop time after training with Dio—the original master of the ability.

But this was the world of Naruto. Dio wasn't here to offer free tutorials.

"Do I need a separate version?" Logan muttered. "Star Platinum: The World?"

His thoughts drifted to the "normal summon" banner on his Stand system interface.

Maybe Star Platinum's time-stop ability belonged to a rare variant—like in gacha games where the same character had multiple, increasingly powerful versions. Was he supposed to draw a 6-star "Star Platinum: The World" card?

He frowned.

Though Star Platinum wasn't as chatty as White Snake—who could gossip for hours if given a handful of melon seeds—Logan could sense the Stand had its own soul, its own will.

He thought of the powerful Stands that hadn't appeared yet:

Weather Report. D4C: Love Train. Made in Heaven. The World Over Heaven. King Crimson.

Those weren't just five-star units. They were a tier beyond.

"Right now, the card pool says 'Normal Summon.' But if there's a way to unlock 'Special Summon'—something stronger, something game-breaking—it might be tied to a single moment…"

The moment when Logan could finally change the course of the world.

He looked up at the fog-misted moon and downed the last of his milk.

The answer would come in three days.

Konan noticed the shift in his expression. "You figured something out, didn't you?" she asked. "So quickly? Hmph… decisive men are the most dangerous."

Then she added under her breath, "But… what did you figure out?"

---

Over the next two days, the mist hung low as ever—but the village buzzed with growing excitement.

Tourists talked loudly in the streets, placing bets on which academy graduates would pass their trials.

In back alleys, some whispered bribes to shinobi, hoping they'd sabotage candidates with high odds.

Celebrities and nobles paraded down the main roads, arms around the courtesans of various districts, tossing coins into the air and watching with smug satisfaction as the crowd scrambled after them.

Logan watched the spectacle with mild amusement. It reminded him of scenes from his old life—some show-off walking down the block with a girl from another city in yoga pants, flexing at a bar, shouting, "Mr. Zhao pays for Spades!"

Apparently, showing off was a universal concept.

Another handful of coins scattered through the air. Logan plucked one and gave a polite nod. "Appreciate it, bro." Then he bought a skewer of fried meatballs from a nearby old woman and continued strolling.

He wasn't wandering aimlessly.

Tomorrow was the graduation ceremony.

And the Daimyo of the Land of Water had just arrived that afternoon, escorted by heavily armed samurai and housed in a high-security courtyard.

"Though judging by the sudden drop in courtesans on the streets," Logan muttered, "he's probably enjoying his rest a little too well…"

Up above, Aerosmith buzzed through the mist—its sensors quietly mapping the city, monitoring carbon dioxide levels, and gathering intel on potential combat zones.

Suddenly, it pinged an alert.

Two sources.

A fight.

Logan's eyes narrowed.

"Someone's made their move early…"

And just like that, he vanished into the fog.

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