Chapter 5 First Victim

"Farewell, my love," the middle-aged man murmured, a bittersweet smile gracing his lips as he lay on his deathbed. 

The room was quiet, save for the soft rustling of the wind outside and the shallow, labored breaths he took. 

His once-strong hands, now frail and trembling, clutched the edge of the blanket as if trying to hold on to the last remnants of life slipping away. 

He could feel the chakra within him ebbing, like the tide retreating from the shore, leaving him cold and empty. 

Death was drawing near, its icy fingers almost brushing against his soul, and he prepared to surrender to its inevitable embrace.

But then, in the silence, a voice broke through, clear and commanding, shattering the stillness.

"Oh no, you can't die just yet, Hashirama. I still have use for you."

The words echoed in the room, pulling him back from the brink. The man's eyes, dull with exhaustion, flickered with sudden life. 

His body, moments away from giving in to the sweet release of death, was suddenly jolted back into motion. 

It was as if time itself had been twisted, and the inexorable march towards death had been halted by sheer will alone.

From the shadows, our overpowered protagonist stepped forward, his presence dominating the room. 

His gaze was sharp, piercing through the gloom, and his aura crackled with untamed energy. With a mere gesture, he halted death's advance, freezing it in its tracks. 

Hashirama could scarcely believe what was happening as he felt a surge of vitality course through his veins. 

The old injuries that had plagued him for years began to mend, knitting themselves together as if they had never existed. 

His muscles, once weakened by time, regained some of their former strength, and his breathing became easier, more controlled. 

Though far from the prime of his youth, he was no longer teetering on the edge of the abyss.

"Who… who are you?" A voice rang out, tinged with both awe and suspicion. The source was a woman who stood beside the deathbed, her figure bathed in the soft light of the setting sun. 

Despite her youthful appearance—her smooth skin and bright eyes suggesting no more than eighteen years of age—there was a wisdom in her gaze that spoke of decades lived. 

It was an illusion, one that belied the truth, for she too had seen fifty winters come and go.

"There you are, Mito-sama," the protagonist said, turning his attention to her. His eyes sparkled with a mix of admiration and something darker, a possessive glint that made the air in the room grow heavy. "I've watched you from afar, admired your strength and beauty. But now… now you're going to be mine."

Mito tensed, instinctively stepping back, but the man continued, unperturbed by her reaction. "But first," he said, his voice dropping to a low, almost tender tone, "I need to return something that was taken from you."

Without waiting for her response, he extended his hand, and the air around her seemed to vibrate with power. Mito gasped as she felt an overwhelming force flood her body. 

It was as if the years had been stripped away in an instant, leaving her stronger than she had ever been. 

The aches and pains that had begun to creep into her bones vanished, replaced by a vitality that was almost intoxicating. 

She looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers in disbelief, feeling the raw power that now flowed through her veins.

Ding! The sound rang out like a bell, resonating within her as the transformation completed. 

She was back at her peak, perhaps even stronger than she had been in her youth. 

But there was something more, something she couldn't quite place—a lingering feeling of invincibility that made her heart race.

She turned her gaze to the man who had done this, who had returned her strength and more. "What… what did you do to me?" she asked, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and awe.

The protagonist simply smiled, a wicked curve of his lips that sent a shiver down her spine. "You'll understand in time, Mito-sama. For now, just know this—you are mine, and I have given you a gift beyond measure. True immortality, something even the gods would envy."

Mito's breath caught in her throat as his words sank in. Immortality? 

The concept was almost too much to comprehend, but she could feel the truth of it deep within her. 

She was no longer bound by the same rules as before, no longer subject to the whims of time and fate. The realization was both thrilling and terrifying.

"And the same goes for you, Hashirama. After all, where else would I find a more fitting witness to what I'm about to do with your beloved wife? The agony of watching, the helplessness in your eyes—it's all too perfect. Hehehe." Our OP evil MC laughed darkly, savoring the moment as he took his first deliberate steps toward the lovely Mito, his intentions clear in every menacing stride.