Chapter 82.1: Reconstruction Technique, Being Abe Seimei
Chapter 82.1: Reconstruction Technique, Being Abe Seimei
By the time it was dusk, Uchiha Tonan pretended to urge Sarutobi Shinnosuke to stay several times. Shinnosuke, however, was worried that Sarutobi Asuma would go fooling around, so he insisted on leaving.
After sending him off, Tonan returned to his study and sat down. He thought for a moment before calling Yoshiwara Ao and instructing, “Bring me the name list of all residents outside the North City.”
Ao was a little startled and carefully asked, “Would that be all, My Lord?”
“That’s all.”
Although Ao was very confused, he didn’t dare guess Tonan’s intention. He only did what he was ordered to do. After a while, several attendants entered the study, one after another, with stacks of booklets and placed them on the table.
Because of the sheer volume, it took a lot of time just to move them. After about fifteen minutes, all the booklets were in Tonan’s study. Signaling the attendants to withdraw, Tonan used Shadow Clone Technique, creating six clones, and began to read them all.
He completed the task by midnight. After dispersing the shadow clones, his face turned pale and he staggered a little. He returned to the seat and took a sip of tea to relieve his exhaustion.
He also filtered the qualified people in his mind, and after a while, an inexplicable light flashed through his eyes. He muttered, “Abe Seimei…”
The next day, late at night, at the edge of the village outside the Fire Capital, range upon range of hills appeared hazy under the dim moonlight, making people wonder if it was a mirage. On the hills, there were peasant houses scattered here and there, but at this moment, they had already extinguished their lights, leaving tranquil darkness.
These peasant families didn’t live in the villages partly because their ancestors hailed from here and partly because they couldn’t afford the expensive village houses.
The more one climbed up the hill and walked further from the periphery, the fewer traces of human presence, and denser the forest. The tread forward would gradually lead to remote, densely forested mountains.
Coo coo
The deeper one went, the more cries of birds, snakes, rats, and insects could be heard among the grasses and trees, enough to scare the weak-willed away.
Halfway up a cliff, there was a natural platform. A closer look showed a dilapidated hut on it. The bright moon gently glided in the night sky. The chain of mountains was shrouded under the moonlight, appearing bright but obscure.
The moonlight dyed this side of the cliff silverish white, making it look like a clear mirror. At this moment, an old man, who already had one foot in the grave, was lying in the room, sleeping soundly.
Although the hour was late, the bleak moonlight spilled into the room through the window, illuminating it. Suddenly, a shadow rose gradually, blocking the moonlight, shrouding the entire room.
In the blink of an eye, the room was bright again. Tonan retracted his finger from the fatal acupoint on the old man’s stomach. Although there was no expression on Tonan’s face, he gave people a sense of indescribable pressure.
He used Sharingan to carefully scan the old man’s facial features and body structure. Then, his hands turned into afterimages as he used the Secret Art – Reconstruction Technique.
Tonan’s stature slowly became taller, his skin gradually became wrinkled, and many age spots appeared. His pitch-black hair began to change from the roots until his head was fully white.
After ten minutes, Tonan’s transformation stopped, and he already looked 80 percent similar to the dead old man. This was also a flaw of the Reconstruction Technique. It could transform people only up to a point because the foundation was that of the technique’s user, and hence complete transformation was unachievable.
However, this was enough for Tonan. He took off his clothes and put them in the storage scroll. He retrieved another set from the closet and wore them. He then walked to the chair beside the window and sat down, taking out items from his ninja bag.
He had inherited this Reconstruction Technique from Sanbo Motoyoshi. As the former Anbu Captain, Motoyoshi knew the flaws of the technique as well. To offset these, he had spent a lot of time studying makeup techniques that could fine-tune the face. Tonan named it – Light Makeup.
Outside the window, white pigeons were hovering in the air. Under the moonlight, they looked even whiter and perfect. Tonan stretched his hand out of the window, and a white pigeon landed on it, jumping twice as if it was expressing its excitement.
Tonan smiled gently, caressed its feathers, and instructed, “Remember to lick the blood clean.”
The white pigeon nodded as if it was human. Soon after that, Tonan made hand signs and used the Secret Technique – Beast Infestation. The pure white pigeons, turning into pitch-black ferocious birds, pounced on the old man’s corpse.
Cloth ripping and flesh-tearing sounds that could send cold shivers down the spine filled up the small house. But Tonan set up a small mirror, carefully fine-tuning his face, not minding what his ninja beasts were doing behind him.
After a short time, as much as to drink a cup of tea, Tonan looked at the mirror. There was a reflection of an old man. The cheekbones on both sides were protruded sharply, and the withered triangular face looked pale grey under the bleak moonlight.
The eyes, however, were deep and serene like an ancient pond, very unlike this body’s age. But there was no contact lens in this world. Tonan had no means to change it. Except for the eyes, his current appearance was practically the same as that of the dead old man.
“These eyes are the defect, but it shouldn’t be a problem,” Tonan muttered to himself, stroking his beard. The old man’s appearance initially looked like that of a starving victim. But with this set of eyes, it strikingly resembled a hawk.
The old man’s corpse, along with his clothes, had been devoured by the white pigeons. The beasts had also already returned to their original appearance. They had thoroughly followed Tonan’s instruction and licked even the bloodstains. Once done, they flew out of the hut in succession.
One of the white pigeons flew over to Tonan and gently pecked his head as if to express dissatisfaction. Perhaps, today’s meal was not delicious enough for it.
Tonan reached out his hand, grabbed the white pigeon above his head, put it on the window sill, and helplessly said, “You’re the pickiest eater. Isn’t it good enough to have something to eat?”
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