Doesn't this make you seem impressive?

Faced with Hozuki Mangetsu's "brilliant" performance, Kisame only smiled in silence.

He knew the fellow was lying, harboring his own secret intentions. Whether or not Mangetsu had managed to get his hands on the Twin Blades—Hiramekarei—he would never be willing to see the weapon snatched away by Kisame. After all, Hiramekarei was the foremost of the Seven Ninja Swords, reputed as the strongest blade, and for its wielder, it was more than a weapon—it was a symbol of status. It was what Mangetsu had sworn to protect.

The reason he called Kisame "boss" was merely due to the latter’s intimidating presence. Loyalty was out of the question.

Unless, one day, Kisame could display an overwhelming power that plunged Hozuki Mangetsu into utter despair, only then might that proud genius truly bow his head.

Feigning contemplation for a moment, Kisame finally sighed and spoke slowly, "Forget it, it doesn't matter. You can go back now; just wait and see how things unfold."

He did not make things difficult for Mangetsu. On one hand, Kisame didn't want to push him into a corner, but preferred to lull him into a false sense of security with soothing words. More importantly, though, was this: the Twin Blades, as the mightiest of all ninja swords, required thorough preparation to claim. Kisame’s current physical strength had reached a bottleneck. Even if he seized Hiramekarei now, he wouldn't be able to absorb its power immediately.

So he was in no hurry.

"Boss, then I'll take my leave!" Mangetsu sprang up from the ground with a whoosh and dashed off, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

Kisame also left the alley, a faint smile curving his lips. Once he was ready and returned to the Hidden Mist, that would be the day he claimed the Twin Blades for himself.

……

Time slipped by, day after day. The days and months flew on. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, three months had passed.

The film "Beach Shark Rampage" had faced some early delays in shooting, so it wasn't finished within the original schedule, but it was now nearing completion.

That morning, Kisame woke up, did several hundred pull-ups to rouse his body, and started his day with energy. Bare-chested, he stood before the mirror.

The Kisame in the mirror had shot up to a height of one meter ninety-two, his weight now at one hundred and forty kilograms. Compared to three months ago, his entire frame had grown bulkier. Yet, thanks to his dense muscle mass, he didn’t appear bloated—nor did he walk like a crab.

The man in the mirror had broad shoulders, a narrow waist, long arms, long legs, and a small head.

Such golden proportions were truly one in a million, perfectly aligned with the ideal physique. Many people find muscular men off-putting, but that’s because most people lack natural symmetry, making their trained muscles appear oddly shaped and a bit greasy. But if someone like Kisame achieves the right proportions, no matter the audience, male or female, no one would call it ugly.

Instead, only one phrase comes to mind—an absolute feast for the eyes.

Kisame could feel that his body was now ready. In the days ahead, he would likely wrap up filming, and then return to the Hidden Mist to seize—no, to take—the Twin Blades, further enhancing his power.

After a breakfast carefully prepared by the Snow Woman, Kisame stepped out, strolling along the seaside avenue lined with palm trees. It was now the height of summer; the sun shone brightly, and a warm sea breeze drifted in. The roar of the tides, the cries of seabirds, and the blasts of ship horns merged into a majestic symphony.

With his hands in his pockets, Kisame walked slowly, savoring the sea breeze while analyzing the current state of the ninja world in his mind.

It was now the summer of Konoha's forty-fifth year, and the outbreak of the Third Great Ninja War was fast approaching. He wondered about the situation in Sunagakure—had the Third Kazekage gone missing yet? After all, his death was the spark that ignited the Third War. If something major had occurred in Sunagakure, that woman Pakura would likely make a move.

Next came the neighboring Hidden Rain Village. There, Yahiko, Nagato, and Konan—three youths about Kisame’s age—should be on the verge of founding the Akatsuki. If all went as expected, the Akatsuki would soon become the greatest terrorist organization in the entire ninja world.

To the east lay Konoha. During the Third Great Ninja War, Konoha fought on four fronts, clashing with the other four great villages, and even battled against Kisame’s own Hidden Mist.

However, the original storyline’s Seven Ninja Swordsmen raid on Konoha’s forces would likely not occur now—mainly because of Kisame’s own actions.

Thinking of this, Kisame’s resolve only hardened: he would stop at nothing to grow stronger, for the future was full of uncertainty.

Unconsciously, he arrived at the set.

The weather was perfect.

On the beach, besides the crew, there were many scantily clad tourists lounging in small groups, chatting, laughing, and basking in the sun. The air was filled with lively chatter and cheerful noise.

Fujiko had thoroughly enjoyed his time as an actor these days. Playing the hero who single-handedly stormed the villain’s lair—facing a hundred foes alone and rescuing the damsel in distress—he truly cut a stirring figure.

Today was the moment he’d looked forward to most: the climactic showdown with Kisame’s villainous character.

He clenched his fists, eager to begin.

"Beach Shark Rampage," fourth-to-last scene, first take.

"This punch is for those innocent people you murdered!" Facing the camera, Fujiko declared his line with righteous fury, then bellowed and threw a punch at Kisame.

"Ah!" Kisame let out a miserable scream. Before the punch had even landed, he flung himself backward in an exaggerated arc and collapsed, unmoving.

Fujiko’s fist froze mid-air. He stared in disbelief, then strode over with a frown.

"I didn’t even hit you. Why did you go flying?" he scolded, clearly dissatisfied with Kisame’s terrible acting.

"Doesn’t that make you look stronger?" Kisame stood up, genuinely puzzled.

"Director, I demand a retake!" Fujiko shouted to the director, adding sternly, "And this time, it has to be real!"

"Are you sure?" Kisame asked.

"Absolutely," Fujiko replied with a cold sneer. Without another word, he raised his fist and punched with all his might at Kisame’s detestable shark-like face.

A crisp, ringing clang resounded.

"Hiss!" Fujiko sucked in a breath, clutching his swollen and reddened hand, squatting down in agony.

"I told you, my head is hard as a rock. Ask Tsunade—she knows best," Kisame said, shaking his head as he walked away.

Fujiko glared at Kisame with hatred, about to explode, when suddenly a thunderous rumble echoed from the distant horizon.

What was that?

Not only him, but the entire crew and all the beachgoers turned in unison to look out to sea.

A white line appeared far out on the ocean, racing toward the shore.

Was it the tide coming in?

No—it was a tsunami.

"Tsunami!" Someone shouted in panic, and chaos instantly erupted on the beach as everyone scrambled in terror to escape.