The shadow clone's maniacal laughter, following dust, then debris with human and ReDead chunks, settles in the dreary corridors. Jimi's clone sighs, wiping away a tear from his eye as he composes himself and stands. The unending rumble of countless Red Zetsus stampeding the halls draws nearer; the duplicate aims his pistol at the writhing Anbu on the ground. Blood leaks from the kunoichi's ears, both arms are broken, and her leg is missing due to the explosive tag. He creeps behind the disorientated Grey Beret and fires at her remaining knee joint and lower spine, then puts a round through the back of her head, ending the woman's suffering.
The proximity mine detonates; an explosion alerts Jim's duplicate, forcing him to sidestep a human-sized mass hurling through the air. Another Anbu lands before him, face down, struggling to gain his bearings. Jim's shadow clone extends his index and pinky finger at eye level, holding the rest down with his thumb. Electricity jolts the shinobi, locking up his limbs; the doppelganger pile drives his knee into the man's spine, eliciting a distinct crunch. He pulls the Anbu back by the collar of his military fatigues, then shoots him in the back of the head, splattering brain matter and skull fragments upon the rug.
The replicate tracks a trail of blood along the floor before finding an Anbu leaning against the wall for support, using his Autogun as a crutch to limp inside one of the many rooms lining the halls. Jim's clone empties the magazine, firing at the shinobi, compelling the Anbu to dive into the room. The shinobi returns blind suppressive fire from the opening; the clone takes cover behind the corner, monitoring the Anbu's actions from a half-dome safety mirror above. The imitation of Jim holsters his pistol, pulls a scroll from his flak jacket, and times the Anbu's movements through the mirror.
He casts genjutsu with Noise Cancellation Jutsu, rendering the scroll invisible to the shinobi before throwing it against the wall at an angle. The scroll bounces off the border into the room as the Anbu slams the door. The shinobi sitting against the entrance replaces his Autogun's magazine before pulling back the charging handle, chambering a round. He toggles the safety switch from full-auto to semi (single shot), unaware of the creeping terror lurching ever closer from behind a bed. The Anbu stands, cracks the door, and exhales, preparing for a firefight.
He peeks through the opening; his eyes widen as he gasps, feeling a harsh slap across his rear end. The shinobi spins, swinging his rifle's shoulder stock as hard and as fast as possible, coming face to face with a dark figure with bioluminescent eyes. The butt of the Autogun halts mere centimeters from the shadowy figure's temple as a paralyzing shriek freezes the Anbu in place. A ReDead lunges forward from the darkness, tackling the shinobi and dumping him face down onto the queen-size mattress with a double-leg takedown.
The ReDead dispatches two swift right hooks into the screaming Anbu's ribs, "Grawmp grawmp," before donkey-punching him in the back of the head, "Grawmp." The zombie-like creature wrangles the shinobi, reaching under the man's neck, grappling his head between its bony forearm and bicep, and gut-checks the hysterical Anbu twice more in the ribs, "Grawmp grawmp," causing the man to dry heave. The ReDead pulls the shinobi's head up and leans close to his ear as if to say, 'I'm a treat you right, boy…' Nevertheless, the perverse creature lacks the intelligence to speak other than, "Grawmp grawmp grawmp grawmp," with each pelvic thrust, bouncing the Anbu upon the bed.
The obscene struggle settles; the grunting and groans of displeasure cease as the swift, incessant *eet-urt, eet-urt, eet-urt* of rusting bed springs takes its place. The shadow clone would almost stalk past the dark room if not for morbid curiosity overcoming his better judgment. Feigning stoicism, he creeps toward the door; the doppelganger "gulps," bracing himself for whatever he may stumble upon. Jim's clone nudges the door with his pistol, allowing the dim fluorescent lights to illuminate the opening. He finds a crimson Anbu mask with a golden falcon crest lying on the floor; his eyes trail to the two rustling figures on the bed.
He shines a flashlight, but the sight before him is one no amount of preparedness can steel his nerves for; he locks eyes with a man that has a crazed feral look, glaring absolute daggers at the clone with bulging, bloodshot eyes, resembling the pure embodiment of psychotic rage. The Grey Beret, appearing in his early to mid-twenties, has a head of two-toned hair, one side being black and the other half white, with matching eyebrows. His hair on the top is cut flat and styled upright with a fade on both sides and the back (Military Flat Top). He bears a remarkable resemblance to his siblings with his furious, dark, bulging eyes, red with wrathfulness.
A devious smirk slithers across the doppelganger's face; the lights tinge off his glasses as he adjusts them, making the clone's eyes appear blank like a Hyūga's, "Well, well, well… if it isn't Itama Senju, face down with another man beating his backside. Is it Saturday night already?"
Itama, now frothing at the mouth, shouts, "I'M GONNA MOUNT YOUR SKULL IN A PUBLIC URINAL AT THE HOKAGE RESIDENCE, JIMI!"
The Marine Contra's shadow clone chuckles, "You shouldn't let your trap write checks your broke-back behind can't, nor will ever cash."
"Trust me, Jimi! You'll find out REAL soon, once my brothers hear of this!"
The duplicate narrows his eyes, "Do you think you can back that up?"
"Back it up!? I'm going to have bruises proving it, you mother fu—"
"No, no… I mean—that fruity Senju booty. Back it up, heh heh heh, yeah."
"Are you serious right now!?"
"Chalé, holmes."
"What!?"
"Itama, just pray that paralysis wears off before Red Zetsu finds and rips you a new one faster than you can say: 'Qué fucking passa,' esé." Jim's replicate closes the studio apartment door, leaving the frenzied Senju screaming his name into the darkness like an unhinged madman. Itama begins regaining control of his body, but the door opens, "Oh, by the way. Surprise! Pendejo!" The shadow clone tosses a scroll as an old radio within the kitchen crackles to life with 'The Lion Sleeps Tonight.' Itama's jaw drops, gasping in horror as his eyes follow the storage utensil tumbling through the air at him.
The scroll ruptures, and another ReDead appears before the distraught Anbu, prolonging his paralysis with a paralyzing shriek.
"NNNOOOOOOO!" Itama screams as the clone slams the door.
The shadow clone pauses midstride, perforce overhearing the commotion from within the studio apartment. The duplicate's eyebrows raise, and jaw drops as the pace of the squeaking bed springs slows, matching the song's tempo. "Uh, okay…" the doppelganger deadpans. He perishes the alarming realization from his mind, shrugs, and sings, "A-weema-weh, a-weema-weh, a-weema-weh, a-weema-weh!" while chaining a series of hand seals, 'Earth Style: Multi Mud Wall!' Numerous walls of Earth seal off the corridors, then reinforce the structural integrity of the complex, impeding the swarms of Red Zetsus bearing down upon the clone and Itama's location.
'That should give poor little Itama plenty of time to escape.' Jim's clone suppresses his chakra and bolts down the corridors in a full sprint, silent as a ghost with each near-imperceptible movement, almost gliding through the air like the angel of death. Jim's replicate summons the 20cm HV penetrator (Handheld Kunai Launcher) from his inventory, 'slower fire rate and projectile velocity than regular small arms; I've even seen Chūnin dodge, deflect or catch the blades from the air… still, nothing in the Sovereign Colony's vast arsenal holds a candle to this weapon's reliability and ammunition capacity.'
He pulls the weapon's charging handle, chambering a kunai within the breech, then toggles the safety to full-auto. The shadow clone navigates the vast halls, avoiding the ASF infantry and Red Zetsus along his path. He booby-traps or seals off his trail, using Earth Release and genjutsu. Nevertheless, the mutants close in, breaching the barricades, ceiling, and floor, while more crash through the windows, funneling in from each apartment. The flesh-eating ghouls surround the shadow clone, congesting each avenue of escape, one after the other.
Jim's imitation pivots and sinks through an adjacent wall like sludge, using Earth Release. He aims the Kunai Launcher at an impending peril and fires, severing one of the cannibalistic fiend's arms before pinning the creature upon the ceiling through its chin. A group of the abominations storms down the corridor as the duplicate unleashes a full-auto barrage of chakra-conducting metal on the zombie-like creatures; a ceaseless onslaught dismembers or pins the inbound Red Zetsus against the adjacent surfaces.
Each assailant resembles an animate pin cushion the closer they come until the accumulating mass of metal impedes their movement; however, the clone continues losing ground as moments after the kunai impacts a target, it dispels into a puff of smoke. A Red Zetsu crawls its dismembered body along the ground after Jim's clone, unable to support the weight of all the chakra-conducting blades lodged into its flesh.
The shadow clone grins, shifting over a few one-hand seals, "Lightning Release: Jolting Jigawatt Jutsu." Electricity surges through each mutant's body, locking up their limbs as the currents cook them from the inside out. He increases the voltage, resulting in the abomination's limbs bursting like overheating hotdogs in a microwave, bespattering their gelatinous blood. Jim's doppelganger wipes the viscous substance off his glasses, proceeding past the gory aftermath. Yet, the Red Zetsu's quivering remains lunge or grab at him, which he evades with little effort.
Around the subsequent juncture, an escape route lies ahead; the shadow clone shoulders his kunai launcher, releasing several active explosive tags behind him as he lunges for an open window.
Allied Shinobi Forces
Two kunoichis prowl the wartorn hallway with dread, remaining cautious of the potential hazards around each juncture or within the many rooms lining the treacherous avenues. Upon closer examination of their surroundings, the entrances to the apartments and corridors appear fused into the enclosure via Earth Release, sealing away the mutants within. They follow a singular path of destruction, uncertain if salvation or a gruesome demise lies beyond. Much to both women's relief, the subsequent juncture remains clear; they carry on with their rifles ready and aiming down sight.
The everpresent haunting wails of Red Zetsus reverberate within the walls and ducts and out the vents, a horrific indication the abominations are pursuing prey. Within the reinforced barrier, an aberrant Red Zetsu smashes through the apartment's sheetrock walls, tracking the kunoichis as it tries breaking through the door before them.
The kunoichi of the Hidden Stone Village places her hand on the wall's surface, detecting the chakra lining the interior, "Relax, Uroko. It can't get to us," the Iwo-nin says, reassuring her battle buddy.
"Tch, for now," the Hidden Cloud kunoichi says, noticing the small fissures forming along the structure's surface. "How much longer before the chakra holding up that wall gives?"
"It won't."
"And why is that!?"
The Stone kunoichi gasps in appalling realization, "Look again; that pervert caste some foul jutsu that lets this place repair and sustain itself by feeding off our chakra! We must leave immediately!"
The Kumo-nin growls in frustration, "Satō, you've—GOT to be kidding me!"
"I'm not, now run!"
Satō and Uroko bolt down the passage in a full sprint as the flesh-eating ghoul keeps pace; the reinforced boundary hinders the abomination's efforts at breaking through. The Red Zetsus lay dormant throughout the corridors, inactive and immobile, struggling with primary limb function and articulation. The abominations roar and twitch as the kunoichis dash by. Yet, the aberrant Red Zetsu continues trailing them, breaching the unenforced walls within the apartments like a meaty wrecking ball.
The thundering collisions behind Uroko and Satō decelerate; without warning, some of the flesh-eating ghouls erupt into brilliant, sapphire blue chakra flames, reducing the nigh indestructible, zombie-like creatures into smoldering piles of glowing ash. However, the cold blue flames spread, dropping the temperature far below 0°C, converting the hallway into a frigid cavern of death and despair. A silhouette crawls from around the ensuing intersection; both kunoichis halt midstep, almost skidding along the surface, aiming their weapons. Uroko fires, but the dark figure uses Substitution Jutsu.
An Anbu reappears, sitting against the wall, "Cease fire! Cease fire! I'm human!" the wounded shinobi shouts.
Uroko lowers her rifle, apologizing, then approaches the Grey Beret, "Were you bitten or scratched?"
The Anbu gasps in pain, struggling to speak, "N-no, ambushed by the enemy; she wiped most of us out, sh-she fed us to those things!" he sputters, coughing up blood. Satō and Uroko aid the shinobi as best they can, using Medical Ninjutsu before lifting him to his feet, carrying the man by his arms over their shoulders.
Satō uses healing jutsu on the Grey Beret, "Sorry if we're a bit rough, but we've gotta move fast. You've got a name?"
The young man grunts, "My codename is 'Nightingale,' but wait! My captain's still alive; we can't leave him here to die! Not by those—monsters. I've seen what they do..."
Uroko grits her teeth, "Look, kid, this place absorbs more of our chakra the longer we stay here, and for all we know, your captain might have already escaped—"
"NNNOOOOOOO!" a muffled cry of despair echoes throughout the halls.
'What the!? I know that voice!' Uroko turns toward the disturbance, "Woah! Alright, kid, we'll try, but we can't make any promises."
Satō shifts through a sequence of one-hand seals, "Hold on tight, everyone!"
In an unaltered portion of the complex, away from the Chakra Absorption Technique's area of effect, the trio of ASF personnel appear before their destination in a puff of smoke—Uroko and Satō fan out, taking defensive positions, securing and observing their surroundings. The Landing Zone is clear; they locate the target destination but are thunderstruck by the commotion behind the door.
The radio station changes, blaring 'Hank Williams III - Rebel Within.' Shock and confusion become dread, then outrage as Nightingale blushes beat red with dishonor and embarrassment for his superior. Satō and Uroko share a glance of bewilderment before sitting the young Anbu down across the door.
"He—he wouldn't… at a time like this?" Nightingale stutters.
"Look away, young one, or brace yourself for whatever you'll see," Uroko says.
The two kunoichi flank the door, leaning against the wall with their weapons ready. Uroko nods at Satō; the Iwo-nin shifts position, facing the entrance, awaiting the signal to breach. Uroko taps Satō's shoulder; Satō kicks down the door—the kunoichis funnel into the apartment, aiming their weapons and flashlights. The trio happens upon an alarming display, rendering them aghast with vacant, wide-eyed stares as their jaws drop in absolute horror.
A ReDead wearing boots with spurs and a ten-gallon hat is gripping the cowboy belt around its waist with both hands while swaying its hips, dancing in perfect sync to the awful country music. The second ReDead is on the bed, violating some poor schmuck while slapping his rear like a noodly metronome after each swift, vigorous pelvic motion.
The ReDead tags in the other wearing the cowboy getup; they switch in a seamless, fluid movement. The ReDead cowboy sits on the back of the Anbu's head, hooking its boots under the shinobi's arms. The ghoulish buckaroo grips the waistband of Itama's underoos, heaving with all its might, pulling his lower body into the air.
Itama screams at the top of his lungs as his boxers hike high between his white and shiny, bright Japanese heinie, "OH, SWEET KAMI, WHY!?" Just as the Senju believes he can't scream any louder, the trajectory of his rear reaches the zenith of its momentum. The ReDead whirls its bony arm around before whipping its flat, cadaverous palm out like a bullwhip, clapping Itama's cheek with a boisterous slap.
The perverse fiend continues bestowing upon Itama the wedgie to end all wedgies while slapping his backside and riding him like a rocking horse. Standing beside the bed, crossing its arms, the other ReDead taps its foot in sync with the music's tempo, nodding its head in approval while bobbing to the beat, eager to have another go at the poor schmuck.
"FALCON KUN! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO FALCON KUN!?" Nightingale cries. The music ends with an abrupt record scratch as both ReDeads redirect their now glowing eyes toward the trio.
The old radio crackles to life once more with, "NINETEEN NAKED NINJAS IN THE BATHHOUSE AT RAM RANCH—"
"OH, HELL NO!" Uroko and Satō shout in unison, firing their rifles before the ReDeads can paralyze them. The rounds puncture the man-humping ghouls' skulls, leaving larger cavities in the back of their heads as blue slime and brain matter bespatters the wall behind them. Both ReDeads hit the ground like a ton of bricks.
"HOT HAARD BADASS SAMURAI, WITH THEIR BIG BULGING MUSCLES, RAMMIN' MORE NINJA BUTT OUT IN THE YAAARRD—"
Satō fires a short burst, destroying the radio, thus ending its horrendous wanton spew of smut and depravity.
Nightingale staggers to his feet, limping toward the studio apartment, "Captain Falcon, are you alright, sir!?"
"Yes! But, like my aching rear, my honor as an Anbu captain—is in ruins; nevertheless, thank all of you for saving what remains of it." Itama, suffering from temporary paralysis, struggles to move his body; face down on the queen-size mattress, he groans, "Ah, Nightingale of Anbu Thirteen Echo, is that you? Can you or one of those extraordinary fair maidens hand me my mask, lying on the ground, over there?" the Senju says, covering his face in shame while pointing toward the floor with a trembling hand.
A snort, then a light chuckle, almost escapes Satō; the Iwo-nin manages to suppress it, "You're welcome," she says, handing Itama his mask.
Uroko shoulders her rifle, then crosses her arms, leaning against a dresser, "You know, despite everything that's gone down, you seem unusually calm. Aren't you even the least bit upset? I thought you'd be an emotional wreck after all that."
"Yeah, what gives," Satō says, "Uroko and I both had um… well—a scuffle with one of those things too. My nose is still broken!" she says in a nasal voice due to her damaged sinuses. The Iwo-nin lowers the bandage on her schnozz, revealing the injury.
Nightingale cringes, "Ouch—that looks quite painful."
Itama deadpans, placing on his mask, "You too, eh? Malkhaz got one of mine as well. Only he didn't survive; she got us with an explosive tag."
"Poor Wombat," Nightingale says, "that was no way to go."
"Re—what!?" Uroko asks.
"ReDeads," Nightingale clarifies, "They've been terrorizing the Land of Fire for years!"
Itama sighs, "Are you two familiar with a… CERTAIN—event known as The Hyūga Incident?" Satō and Uroko's eyes widen like dinner plates. "I'll spare you the details, but I'm certain you've both already surmised: ReDeads and Taijutsu—Do. Not. Mix." He says, with great emphasis on the last three words. The dam ruptures; Uroko erupts into uncontrollable laughter, rolling on the floor, gasping for air. Satō apologizes with great urgency on her friend's behalf. Itama chuckles, "Oh, no. It's fine, worry not, for it couldn't have happened to a... 'nicer' clan."
"I don't care much for slavers, either. Quite—EYE-ronic, the Main House never—SEEN it coming."
"Hmm, whoever was guarding the gate must've been bribed to turn a—BLIND EYE that night because those things just waltzed right in the compound like they owned the place or something."
"And during a clan meeting, of all times, too."
"Must've been a Branch House member; any of them would've done it had an opportunity presented itself." Itama tries sitting but falls back onto his stomach, yelping in pain, "It's like sitting on a heap of hot embers with a wicked Charlie horse on both creases where my thighs meet the lower buttocks!"
Satō smirks, "I know a bit of Medical Ninjutsu; I can take a look if you'd like," she shrugs.
Though Itama is a far more knowledgeable Medical-nin, he accepts the kunoichi's help out of politeness and to not risk giving away his identity, "Very well."
"Alright, drop them."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Your pants, dude. Drop them. Those undies, too, while you're at it."
"Oh, alright then." Itama, being familiar with standard medical procedures, shimmies the garments down to his thighs without delay. The Anbu captain's conduct and lack of hesitation shocks Satō; nevertheless, she readies the Mystical Palm Technique. Satō, Uroko, and Nightingale gasp at the sight before them, wincing in sympathy at the condition of Itama's bruised, swelling, red junie cakes. "Surly, it isn't that bad… is it?"
"Um, I can alleviate the inflammation, but you probably won't use the restroom correctly for a week," Satō says. 'You better thank whatever deity you pray to that those things were as smooth as a Ken doll down there!' The Healing Jutsu's emerald hue shimmers around her hands, vibrating them as she reaches closer. Itama's eyes almost bulge through his mask, but he relaxes, recognizing the instantaneous results of a skillful medical practitioner. "I'm increasing the intensity to hasten the process."
Itama gives Satō a thumbs up; her hands rattle like a Barbershop Vibration Massager, taking the Senju by surprise as he clenches those cheeks.
"Try to remain motionless and relax; the procedure is almost complete."
Itama shudders, 'The Hidden Stone Village's medical remedies are indeed bizarre, but effective, nonetheless.'
Grinning ear to ear, Uroko is drooling and blushing beat read with a bloody nose, staring in lecherous astonishment, 'BOOTY-BOOTY, BOOTY-BOOTY ROCKIN' EVERYWHERE!'
Nightingale groans, rolling his eyes, 'I'm going to have severe PTSD after this!'
The room trembles, alerting the ASF personnel as dishes and cookware quake before falling over; Itama pulls up his trousers and prepares for combat, taking a defensive position along with the other shinobi in the studio apartment. The persistent tremor's magnitude expedites with every thunderous collision approaching their location.
"Oh, great. It followed us," Uroko says.
Nonchalant, Itama redirects his attention towards the loudening disturbance, "Yes, I had sensed it too, a while back, but was uncertain of what slowed it down."
"Chakra exhaustion, perhaps," Satō draws everyone's attention with this stunning revelation, "Malkhaz used some strange technique that siphoned their chakra into the walls. Draining every last bit until nothing remains seems to be the only way to put them down for good."
Itama gasps, 'Is that what you were trying to tell us all along, Jimi?'
"How's everyone doing on chakra and ammunition?" Uroko asks.
Nightingale racks his sidearm's pistol slide, "I've got one round left, but I was saving it for myself."
"I see… stand back, everyone; I'll take it from here," Itama warns. After giving his Autogun away to Nightingale, the Anbu captain widens his stance, concentrating an enormous amount of chakra into his fist. The air around his arm whirrs and distorts from the immense heat accumulating around the limb. Dense steam emanates around the Senju's fist as he continues charging the attack. The aberrant Red Zetsu smashes through the wall; before it emerges from the smoke, Itama unleashes his charged attack, "Fire Style: Falcon—PUNCH!"
The Anbu captain's fist rockets forward; the friction in the air mimics a screeching falcon before Itama's fist concaves the abomination's skull. The overwhelming force of the blow generates a massive explosion, projecting the aberrant Red Zetsu into the sky with a sonic boom before it disappears as a brilliant twinkle in the distance. "Yes!" Itama cheers, resting his fist on his hip before giving the abomination a two-finger salute, "Show me your moves!"
Sovereign Colonies Marine Contras
The explosive tags detonate, generating an encompassing destructive force, projecting everything within the floor of the high-rise apartment complex out like an oversized howitzer. The Marine Contra's shadow clone barrels from the tremendous fireball, somersaulting through the air, "It's TIME for re-VENGE!" Jimi's clone lands before a small group of shinobi in a three-point pose with his right palm flat on the ground while resting the Handheld Kunai Launcher on his shoulder using his left hand.
The thunderstruck foot soldiers ready their projectile-based jutsu and long-range weapons, but razor-sharp stone lances irrupt from the ground, skewering the poor souls like helpless pigs at a Hawaiian lūʻau. Incendiary munitions rain down, encircling the shinobi before igniting and setting them all ablaze—an immediate barrage of mortars whistles through the air, hurtling Danger Close at the clone. Jim's duplicate speeds into an underdeveloped portion of the fortress-like city, taking cover within a lush jungle, thus concealing himself from the incoming shells.
He zigzags through the dense foliage, silent as a ghost, ambushing and immobilizing the Red Zetsus, stalking the shadows with the Kunai Launcher. A swift blur accelerates toward the shadow clone's head; he strengthens his hand with chakra and catches the inbound object. A summoning turtle pokes its head from the shell, trying to bite off the replicate's thumb; he flicks the small animal in the back of the head, knocking it unconscious. The shadow clone redirects his attention toward its summoner and notices a group of shinobi charging across a bridge after him—in a straight line.
He enhances his foot with chakra before dropping the turtle and kicking it at the advancing assassins. One after the other, each shinobi tumbles off the bridge into the canal; a scoreboard buzzes to life, almost startling Jim's clone as it displays '1up' beside him. He dashes across the overpass; however, the irate soggy-nin all arise from the water, throwing kunai with explosive tags attached at the bridge columns, collapsing the structure—the clone summersaults in the air, landing on the other side. Alas, he stumbles into an ambush of sniper fire. Several well-placed high-velocity rounds whiz through the air yet pass through without dispelling him.
A shinobi from the Land of the Sky (Sora no Kuni), looking through the telescopic sights of his rifle, clamors at the sheer absurdity that befalls him, "That was a direct hit! How is she still standing!?" A whisper behind the Sora-nin sends a chill slithering down his spine.
"Bunshin no Jutsu…" the Marine Contra's shadow clone says before knocking the shinobi out with a prompt chop to the back of the man's neck. Jim's clone uses Teleportation Jutsu; in rapid succession, each sniper falls from the trees with active explosive tags on their backs, killing and maiming their comrades below. The doppelganger snatches a Messenger Bird, carrying a satchel bag marked with the letter 'S.' Jim's clone breaks the falcon's neck with a quick thumb jerk, then finds and removes the scroll within the bag.
He deactivates the booby-trap, safeguarding the parchment before plundering its precious booty (Argh!): a shotgun, ammunition, and a bandolier. After equipping the spoils, he reverse-summons the Handheld Kunai Lanucher back into his inventory before a sword slides from the replicate's sleeve into his hand. He uses Substitution Jutsu to avoid the shuriken turrets, uprising from the ground. Jim's shadow clone shoulders his shotgun and uses the blade to deflect the incoming, spinning projectiles hurling at him. He throws kunai at the turrets with his non-dominate right hand, destroying the hellish contraptions.
With a visual on his target, he uses Teleportation Jutsu to increase his speed while synthesizing a rapid chain of one-hand seals, "Ninja Art: Cascading Crescendo!" The mortar team of Sky-shinobi, disorientated by a blinding flash, each hit the dirt before a hasty succession of their severed heads follows suit. The clone blitzes the commanding officer, plunging his fist through the man's body, grasping his spinal cord, and paralyzing the shinobi's upper body with Lightning Release.
The Sora-nin's arms and head fall limp; he cries in pain with tears trailing down his face, "Why won't you just fucking kill me already!?" the man sobs.
The shadow clone leans close to the shinobi's ear, chuckling, "Because I like my meat shields within bullet-blocking distance. NOW MOVE YOUR ASS, SCUM!" He rushes forward through oncoming machinegun fire that riddles the Sora-nin with hot lead; the rounds mangle the shinobi's body, with some tearing off limbs. Jim's clone slaps an explosive tag on the man's back before kicking him into a machinegun nest and diving for cover. The explosive detonates, throwing dust, debris, and body parts in the air. The duplicate sheaths his blade, drawing the shotgun and attaching a kunai at the end of it to use as a bayonet.
He jumps into the trench, suppressing his chakra while using genjutsu to conceal himself amongst the disorientated shinobi. He thrusts the bayonet at the writhing shinobi suffering from severe blast trauma, finishing them off to end their suffering. The doppelganger advances through the trenches, noiseless and without notice, eliminating any unsuspecting shinobi along the path while placing remote detonation tags in every cavern, opening, or pillbox he stumbles across, leaving nothing but a gruesome trail of death and destruction in his wake.
With a single hand seal, the clone detonates each tag, eradicating any remaining ASF foot soldiers or burying them alive in what remains of the trench. The dirt beneath his feet begins trembling; not far off, the haunting wails of thousands of Red Zetsus draw closer from the city to the jungle.
'That seems to have done the trick,' the shadow clone surmises. The ground rumbles enough to almost register as a minor quake on a Richter scale. Straight away, ASF munitions irrupt towards the incoming hordes, raining absolute hell upon the flesh-eating ghouls. The clone laughs, thinking, 'That won't be enough, but… now—now I know where you all are!' He crosses his index and middle fingers over one another, "Shadow Clone Jutsu!" More clones appear and approach a field artillery cannon.