The terrifying explosion bloated the Nine-Tails' stomach to its absolute limit.
Its head and tails now looked comically small in comparison.
It felt like it was about to burst.
"Tsk tsk!"
Ren Asakura chuckled, shaking his head with a helpless smile.
The Nine-Tails felt dazed—black smoke drifted from its ears and nostrils.
Its mouth was still locked shut, and its expression was utterly lifeless.
The full force of the explosion had been contained inside its body.
Honestly, if not for the insane durability of a Tailed Beast, it would've been done for already.
Ren Asakura finally let go.
A thick puff of black smoke billowed from the Nine-Tails' mouth.
It collapsed onto the ground, tails limp and body exhausted.
Clearly, it was not having a good time.
Ren Asakura gracefully landed beside it.
"So, how was it, Nine-Tails? Fun or not?"
"Damn it… Who the hell are you?!"
Its voice was weaker than it had ever been before.
Ren Asakura smiled.
"So, have you reconsidered my offer?"
"I refuse! Even if I die today—even if you beat me to death—even if the Sage of Six Paths himself shows up—I will never let myself become your Jinchūriki!"
Ren Asakura's excitement only grew.
"Great! I love that unyielding spirit of yours! Just don't come crying for mercy later."
The Nine-Tails let out a haughty snort.
It was clearly saying, "Do your worst. I still won't bow."
Ren Asakura casually strolled forward, placing a hand on the Nine-Tails' massive head.
"Let's go play in a world of false realities! This technique of mine… it's no weaker than Infinite Tsukuyomi. Oh, and by the way… Foxes are part of the canine family, aren't they?"
---
A Different World
Towering skyscrapers.
Brilliant city lights.
Humans danced through life, believing they ruled the world.
And in doing so, they ruled over other creatures, keeping them as pets.
Beneath the glittering surface of the city, countless stray cats and dogs scavenged through trash cans, searching for scraps.
In this cruel world, stray animals had to avoid not only hostile humans but also the city's animal control officers—and even those deranged people who captured strays for forced sterilization.
To a stray, humans were terrifying creatures.
To survive, they had to be constantly on guard.
At the slightest hint of danger, they ran.
Sometimes, they envied those lucky pets with owners—at least they were fed and warm.
For them, going three days without food was normal.
Among the strays of this city was a red-furred canine.
It lived among the stray dogs and cats, struggling to survive.
Its name was Kurama, but because of its nine tails, the other strays simply called it Nine-Tails.
Kurama didn't mind the name.
After all, in this city, strays could die at any moment.
A name was just a label.
That day, like always, Nine-Tails wandered alone, searching the trash cans for food.
If it was lucky, it might find some leftovers.
If not, it would go hungry—again.
Sometimes, Nine-Tails dreamed.
It dreamed of a world called the Shinobi Realm, where it was a being of unmatched power.
Towering thirty to forty meters tall, a mere swing of its tails could shake the heavens and earth.
Humans feared it.
The first part of the dream was joyous—a time when it roamed free.
But then… it was imprisoned.
After that, the dream became blurred and fragmented.
And eventually… it could no longer remember.
Sometimes, dreams blurred with reality.
At times, the Nine-Tails truly believed it was that world-shattering Tailed Beast.
But when it woke up…
It was still just the weakest stray in the city.
Every day, it scoured filthy trash heaps for food.
Every day, it dirtied itself to avoid drawing attention.
Every day, it had to stay hidden from humans—always wary of being harmed.
Today, after digging through a trash bin, the Nine-Tails got lucky.
It found a bone—with some scraps of meat still clinging to it.
That meant… dinner was secured.
"Oh my, oh my! Isn't this the mighty Tailed Beast, Kurama? What's this? Digging through trash for food?"
A mocking voice rang out.
Instantly, the Nine-Tails tensed, clamping down tightly on the bone in its mouth.
Humans in this city were dangerous.
Some of them seemed kind… but beneath that friendly mask, there could be nothing but malice.
Ren Asakura watched the Nine-Tails—its defensive posture, its wild, cautious gaze…
It looked exactly like a stray dog guarding its meal.
"Tsk tsk tsk… I really do love that untamed spirit of yours. I hope you never lose it."
The Nine-Tails backed away, its sharp eyes locked on Ren Asakura's ever-present smile.
Then—once it reached the shadows—it spun around and bolted.
Its nine tails swished behind it.
In the blink of an eye, its red figure had vanished into the cityscape.
Ren Asakura didn't chase.
He simply stood there, his smile unchanging.
---
The Nine-Tails darted into a dark alleyway, still clutching its precious bone.
Only when it was sure that human hadn't followed did it breathe a sigh of relief.
"That human… he knew me. No, no… Humans are dangerous creatures. How could I possibly know a human?"
Then, suddenly—something felt off.
There were other dogs' scents here.
And not just one—but a pack.
Even among the lowest creatures of the city, strays had their own society.
Stray dogs.
Stray cats.
Each group had its own territory.
These territories were centered around the best trash heaps—the ones with the richest food sources.
Because food was scarce.
And if others ate your share…
Then you went hungry.
And in the stray world, there was no morality.
The weak went hungry.
The hungry grew weaker.
And the weak… died.
To mark their territories, strays left clear signs.
Dogs, for example, used their scent—urine, feces, anything to make it known:
"This place belongs to us."
Anyone who trespassed had two possible fates:
The lucky ones were chased away.
The unlucky ones… were torn apart.
Every day, stray dogs and cats vanished from the city.
And no one cared.
That was simply their fate.
The Nine-Tails understood this.
So, it turned to leave.
It had always been a loner—never part of a pack.
It had survived this long not just because of its skills, but because it avoided places like this.
Yes, those territories had more food…
But that food came at the cost of blood.
Still clutching its bone, it prepared to slip away—
Before the pack noticed.
As it weaved through the dark alleys, its ears twitched.
Somewhere close, it heard an agonized scream.
A stray cat had wandered into the wrong place.
And, as expected…
The pack had found it first.
°°°
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