Kuro's gaze remained fixed on Sasuke, cold and analytical, disseg the grotesque transformation unfolding before him. The curse mark, the pulsating darkness—it was a fasating, albeit disturbing, biological anomaly. Orochimaru’s work, he thought detachedly, categorizing the information. Just as the manga described. He felt no immediate arm, ne of protective instinct, only ical i in this forced evolution of power. He cataloged the ges: skin tone, chakra signature, the grotesque patterns spreading across Sasuke’s flesh, all data points to be filed away.

  “Xero, Reika, look,” Kuro stated, his voice ft, devoid of emotion, more an instru than a. He gestured minimally towards Sasuke, expeg them to observe, analyze, the same way he was. There was no pani his tone, no call to a, just a detached notification of a hy event unfolding. He was an observer, catalogis, not a partit in the drama pying out.

  Xero’s rea was instaement. His eyes went wide, like he’d just seeernal rival or something, and Reika, she immediately went into this super focused, analyzing mode, brow furrowed and all. Both of them were clearly reag to what was going oing pulled into it way more than Kuro was, at least oside. Xero's voice was all shaky and hushed but he smiled widely, "What… what is that?!" and Reika, calm as ever, was already muttering about "Sasuke’s chakra signature." Kuro heard them both, yeah, their words registered, but it was like he was their reas from a distance, as much as he was actually processing what was happening in the fight. He was just kind of… noting down their responses in his head, along with everything else. Almost like they were data points in some internal bat report he was running.

  “It’s a power boost,” Kuro stated, his voice toneless, dismissive, downpying the sinister nature of the curse mark. “Makes him stronger. Probably temporary.” He kept it brief, minimizing any sense of arm, wanting to curtail any impulse his teammates might have towards rash a. He offered n of danger, no hint of the potential for Sasuke to lose trol. Let them observe for themselves.

  Reika’s sharper senses picked up on the subtle yet crucial details, her analysis more insightful than Xero's immediate arm, yet still tinged with Kuro did not share. Her words, “Sasuke’s chakra signature… it’s bee erratic. Votile. And… tainted,” were accurate, ically precise. But to Kuro, they were just observations, pieces of data. He aowledged them with a minimal nod, no further ent, keeping his face impassive, a mask of cold indifference.

  Xero voiced the Kuro coldly dismissed within himself. “Dangerous how? Is he going to… lose trol? Hurt them more?” The genuine in Xero’s voice was almost irritating, a distra from the cold, objective observation Kuro was determio maintaiimentality is a weakness, he thought dismissively. It clouds judgment, leads to mistakes.

  Kuro paused, a tiny ripple of… something he couldn’t quite name, maybe annoyance, maybe… something softer he really didn’t want to aowledge, flickering inside him. He squashed it down hard. "Yeah," he said, his voice ft, like he was reading from a report. "But it’s their fight. We o stay out of it.” He put a real edge on that st part, making it a definite order, no more arguing.

  With a sharp motion, he sigo Xero and Reika, his voice carrying the weight of finality.

  “We’re leaving.”

  His words were blunt, devoid of emotion. He didn’t bother expining himself. He didn’t o. Their priority wasn’t this meaningless skirmish—it was seg the Earth Scroll.

  Xero cast a quice toward the ongoing fight, his eager to participate it was evident. Reika, though less expressive, also seemed relut. But Kuro’s to no room fument. They exged a brief look before silently falling in line behind him.

  As they retreated, the sounds of battle gradually faded into the distahe violent symphony of bat dulled, repced by the quiet hum of the forest. Yet Kuro didn’t let his guard down for a sed. Even with the immediate fight behind them, there were still too many unknown variables.

  His mind worked methodically, breaking down their steps. The Earth Scroll was the key. That was all that mattered. The lohey wasted here, the more opportuhey gave others to interfere.

  “They’re still going at it,” Xero muttered after a while, casting a gnce babsp;

  Kuro didn’t bother looking. He had already dismissed them in his mind.

  “Not our problem,” he said simply.

  Xero let out a dry chuckle. “Cold as always.”

  Kuro didn’t aowledge the ent. If prioritizing efficy over pointless heroics made him cold, then so be it. This wasn’t some grand war where he had to pick a side. It was a survival game, and Kuro had long since decided that he wasn’t here to py savior.

  The trio moved swiftly through the deerrain, their footsteps silent, their presenearly uable. The Forest of Death ce where hesitation equaled death, and Kuro wasn’t the type to hesitate. Every step he took was calcuted, every decision weighed against the risks.

  His mind briefly flickered back to the batants they had left behind. They were fighting for something—glory, revenge, some mispced sense hteousness. Kuro couldn’t care less. This wasn’t about good or evil. It was about surviving aing what he wanted.

  Reika suddenly came to a halt, her sharp eyes sing their surroundings. Xero tensed, ready for a. Kuro didn’t say anything at first—he simply waited, .

  “Something wrong?” Xero whispered.

  Reika hesitated for half a sed before shaking her head. “...No. Just a feeling.”

  Kuro raised a brow. “If it’s just a feeling, keep moving.”

  Reika didn’t argue. The moment passed, and they pressed on. Kuro wasn’t oo igential threats, but he also wasn’t going to let paranoia slow them down. If there was dahey’d ha when it showed itself.

  Minutes passed in silehe echoes of battle were long behind them now, swallowed by the vast forest.

  Xero finally spoke up again. “You really didn’t care at all, huh?”

  Kuro sighed. “Do I look like I care?”

  Xero smirked. “Not even a little.”

  Reika g Kuro, her gaze unreadable. “Most people would’ve at least hesitated.”

  Kuro met her eyes with an unimpressed look. “I’m not most people.”

  Xero let out another chuckle, shaking his head. “No kidding.”

  They tinued walking, their pace steady, their goal clear. The Earth Scroll. That was it. The fight, the struggle of others—it didn’t matter.

  And just like that, they disappeared into the depths of the Forest of Death, leaving behind the chaos, the flict, and the foolish ideals of those who fought for something other than survival.