That's right—Tobirama Senju was currently injured, and quite severely at that. His right abdomen was bleeding profusely, with an alarming amount of blood loss.
Given what he had just said, the situation likely unfolded like this:
Not long ago, he had fought a formidable opponent. The battle ended in mutual injury, though Tobirama had gained the upper hand, forcing his enemy to flee. He gave chase, eventually following the trail all the way to this remote mountain camp. Naturally, Tobirama assumed his enemy had taken refuge here.
With his exceptional chakra sensing ability—and a strong confidence in that ability—Tobirama's assumption was, frankly, quite reasonable.
Reasonable, yes. But ultimately incorrect.
He was desperate to finish off his opponent. Otherwise, all his earlier efforts would have been in vain.
In this kind of situation, if the rogue ninja in the camp chose to shelter his target, he would, without question, respond with hostility.
Tobirama ignored Yujin's pointless and performative concern about his wounds and repeated coldly:
"I'll say it again. Hand over the person. It's in all of our best interests."
Yujin thought to himself, Our "best interest" isn't just surviving, is it? He sighed and replied:
"Everyone in the camp is present. If none of them are who you're looking for, then you must have come to the wrong place."
But persuasion wouldn't work. There was no mutual trust between them. Only once one party was flat on the ground would ears—the kind attached to living heads—start listening.
The only question was: Who would be the one on the ground?
As he spoke, Yujin motioned for his clansmen to step back. There was no need for them to get involved in the impending clash—they'd only end up covered in blood.
"So, there's nothing more to talk about."
If possible, Tobirama would have preferred a peaceful resolution. But it seemed he'd have to exert himself a bit more after all.
Yujin said nothing further. The tension in the air visibly thickened. Following his cue, the others retreated to a safe distance.
Tobirama didn't try to stop them. In fact, he welcomed their withdrawal. In his eyes, if he could subdue the man in front of him—the "captain"—the entire situation would fall under his control.
To think he dares face me one-on-one… Does he believe an injured Senju has no strength left?
How... courageous.
Yujin fixed his eyes firmly on Tobirama. The next moment, Tobirama's fingers tightened around the hilt of his greatsword. A flash of cold light burst forth—and Yujin instinctively countered, his hand already gripping a kunai he hadn't even realized he'd drawn.
Clang!
Steel clashed, sparks flying.
Yujin clenched his lips. Tobirama's speed was insane. Had he not been on high alert and mentally prepared for such quickness, that single strike could have critically injured him.
At this point in time, Tobirama certainly hadn't developed the Flying Thunder God Technique yet. What Yujin was facing was just his mastery of the Body Flicker Technique.
Still, Tobirama wasn't just fast. Speed-oriented shinobi often lacked power, their attacks feeling light and insubstantial—but Tobirama was clearly different.
After his blade was blocked, he wasn't surprised. He simply pressed down with both hands on the hilt, and Yujin immediately felt a sudden surge of force through the blade.
Well, what else could be expected from that man's brother? While Tobirama's physicality wasn't as absurd as his older brother's, his physique was still top-tier—one in ten thousand. Perhaps, rarer.
Speed and strength? Yujin couldn't help but grumble internally, With bodies like yours, why not be berserkers instead of ninja?
Realizing that a direct confrontation would be more difficult than anticipated, Yujin quickly decided to shift tactics to a more efficient form of combat.
He could tell that Tobirama wasn't trying to kill him outright—only to subdue him. That meant he could take a more evasive approach without too much risk.
Feigning weakness, he staggered backward as if unable to withstand the pressure.
Tobirama immediately flickered out of sight, reappearing behind Yujin's retreat path. One arm effortlessly twisted Yujin's arms behind his back, while the blade of his greatsword was pressed against Yujin's throat.
Seeing the tables suddenly turn, the others in the camp began rushing forward to help—but they quickly stopped when they caught Yujin's signal, avoiding a well-intentioned disaster.
"Enough. Don't move. Hand the person over—"
As he spoke, Tobirama's eyes fell to the large scroll strapped to Yujin's back.
More precisely, the clan emblem on that scroll—the Sarutobi Clan.
"The Sarutobi Clan's scroll...? Wait, what's your relationship with them?"
Unlike small shinobi clans that might vanish overnight, the great clans had long histories and lasting influence. Their continued existence relied on relatively stable relationships with other great clans—either as enemies or allies.
For example, the Senju Clan and the Sarutobi Clan had maintained a rather favorable relationship.
No matter what, the external pressures on great clans were always far more manageable than those faced by small clans.
Tobirama had only chased his target into this forest by coincidence. In his mind, there was no way a ragtag camp of vagabond ninja had any connection to the Sarutobi.
That's why the emblem had surprised him.
But he was overthinking it. Yujin didn't exactly have no connection to the Sarutobi—it was more like the relationship between a robber and his victim.
Yujin didn't answer the question. Instead, he muttered:
"Your Body Flicker is really next-level... We're about the same age—how did you get so good?"
His answer—so off-topic—snapped Tobirama out of his thoughts. Right. This isn't the time to worry about the Sarutobi.
In the next instant, Tobirama's chakra flared. Brutal strength crushed down, making Yujin's bones creak. He was clearly using pain to force Yujin into submission.
"Cut the nonsense. Hand the person over."
"I already told you. There's no one here who fits your description. We don't even know if the person you're after is male or female."
Tobirama frowned. Something didn't add up. The man was in his grasp—his life hanging by a thread—yet he showed no sign of fear or panic.
The reason became clear a moment later.
Tobirama, ready to escalate his interrogation, suddenly felt the world spin. His strength and senses were rapidly fading.
And then he heard Yujin's calm, unhurried voice:
"Relax. The dizziness is normal. You've just lost too much blood."