Naruto: This Genius is Somewhat Ordinary-Chapter 353

"Orochimaru... looks like this one’s mine."

Fujimoto Tōma spoke calmly as he watched the Second Tsuchikage’s body slowly regenerate in the distance.

Orochimaru smiled, clearly entertained. "Naturally. I never doubted you’d be the one standing at the end, Tōma-kun." His eyes flicked to the Hokage’s robes. They were still intact, though no longer pristine, stained by dust, shockwaves, and the smoke of battle. "But tell me something. During that entire fight, you avoided physical contact every single time. If you’d gone head-on, wouldn’t it have ended faster?"

Tōma answered casually, as if discussing the weather. "Touching them would’ve been a bad idea. Uzumaki sealing techniques, the White Fang’s blade, Might Dai with the Eight Gates, and the Uchiha’s Sharingan... you never know what kind of hidden trump card is left. Izanagi alone makes direct contact a gamble."

The real reason, of course, stayed unspoken.

Orochimaru nodded thoughtfully. He had seen the Eight Gates firsthand. That kind of raw taijutsu wasn’t something anyone sane chose to clash with. And as for the Sharingan... Orochimaru of all people understood that danger perfectly.

After a pause, Orochimaru chuckled. "Still, was it really wise to withdraw the Allied Forces entirely?"

Tōma raised an eyebrow. "Why wouldn’t it be?"

Orochimaru’s grin widened. Behind him, an endless sea of White Zetsu began surfacing, wave after wave stretching to the horizon. "I understand your reasoning. Fewer casualties. Less chaos. But now..." He gestured lazily. "What will you do about this?"

"And you look exhausted," Orochimaru continued. "You’ve been throwing out high-output techniques nonstop. Even jinchūriki would struggle to last this long."

Tōma nodded. "That part’s true."

A heartbeat later, another Tōma stood beside him.

Same posture. Same chakra presence. Same calm expression.

Orochimaru didn’t notice the switch.

The previous clone had already dispersed.

"Watch closely," Tōma said with a faint smile.

He rose into the sky. Below, the White Zetsu army reacted instantly, launching waves of jutsu upward. A single wind barrier bloomed around Tōma, shredding fire, lightning, and projectiles alike. Flames died the moment they touched the gale.

Tōma opened his palm.

A black sphere formed above it.

Orochimaru’s instincts screamed.

He didn’t know what it was—but every cell in his body warned him that this was a mistake to stand near.

The sphere stabilized.

Tōma looked down at the endless enemy below and smiled.

A perfect testing ground.

He flicked his finger.

The sphere dropped.

Tōma vanished.

A split second later, the black orb expanded.

There was no sound at first.

Then the world broke.

Light swallowed the battlefield. The shockwave erased everything it touched. Mountains vanished. The ground folded inward as if crushed by a god’s hand. Even sound lagged behind the explosion, arriving only after the devastation had already passed.

Across distant fronts, shinobi froze.

"What... was that?"

"That direction... that was the Fourth Division’s battlefield!"

Reports spread instantly.

The Fourth Division had already retreated.

Only one person had remained.

The Sixth Hokage of Konoha.

Fujimoto Tōma.

The explosion was his.

Morale surged like a tidal wave.

Relief. Awe. Fear.

Some shinobi, having witnessed Naruto and Sasuke battling the tailed beasts, went silent instead.

They had thought that was the ceiling.

They were wrong.

When the dust finally settled, the battlefield was gone.

In its place lay a massive crater.

No bodies. No remnants.

Even the Second Tsuchikage’s Edo Tensei form had been erased completely.

Tōma hovered above the basin, staring down with quiet amazement. Even he underestimated the result.

"So... that’s the yield."

He exhaled slowly.

The battlefield was finished.

Turning away, Fujimoto Tōma vanished from the sky.