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Broken in the Chair

Some time earlier...

As the guards escorted John down the dim hallway, they passed several cold, steel doors.

When they reached the third room, John's expression changed—his tired features sharpened with sudden determination. For anyone paying attention, his eyes had shifted. The red irises, marked with black pupils, bore an uncanny resemblance to those of a certain fox.

Raising his cuffed hands into a rough cross shape, he muttered under his breath, "Shadow Clone Jutsu."

Two bursts of smoke erupted beside him. As the haze cleared, two exact replicas of John stood by his side, their faces cold and calculating.

The guards froze, confusion flashing across their faces. But before they could react, the clones struck. Each delivered a swift, precise blow to the guards' necks, sending them crumpling to the ground, unconscious before they could sound an alarm.

John straightened, his gaze cold as he surveyed the fallen guards. Without hesitation, he formed another cross sign and muttered the same technique. Smoke filled the room again, and when it dissipated, ten clones now surrounded him, their expressions matching his—predatory and purposeful.

"You know what to do, right?" John asked, though his tone made it clear the question was rhetorical.

The clones answered in unison, each with slight variations:

"Yes."

"Don't worry."

"We'll secure the place."

"We won't waste time."

"Start with the control room," John commanded sharply. "Gather anything useful. Take everything. Leave no trace."

Without further instruction, the clones leapt upward, sticking to the ceiling like spiders. Moving swiftly, they crawled along the roof, vanishing into ventilation pipes to carry out their tasks, leaving John to proceed with his plan.

The last card John had drawn was the temporary Naruto Uzumaki Template Card. With it, he could use Naruto's abilities for one hour. This version of Naruto was before the Pain Arc.

As John left the locked room, he activated the card. A surge of energy coursed through him as he absorbed Naruto's abilities and experiences. The rush of memories and skills felt overwhelming, almost intoxicating, but the system protected his mind from breaking.

It wasn't just power he gained; it was Naruto's life. He felt Naruto's pain, his isolation, his childhood marred by hatred and fear. The cold, hostile stares of the villagers, their whispers of disgust, and the suffocating loneliness—it was all too real. Yet, what disgusted John the most was how Naruto chose to protect those who despised him.

Shaking his head to dispel the memories, John refocused. He created more clones. With a nod, they transformed into perfect replicas of the guards who had been escorting him. Without a word, the disguised clones resumed their task, dragging John toward the experiment room.

John had chosen this particular room for a reason—it had no cameras. Whether this was an oversight or deliberate design, he wasn't sure, but he suspected the latter.

Over the past month, he had been meticulously gathering information. He had memorized every path, the camera patterns, the number of guards, and their rotations.

This was no longer just survival—it was war. And John was ready.

Present Time

John stood over Dr. White, his cold, piercing eyes watching as the man thrashed against the restraints of the metal chair. The once arrogant scientist was now reduced to a trembling, sobbing wreck.

"P-please… please let me go!" White stammered, his voice cracking. His body convulsed as the electrodes sent sharp jolts of electricity through him. Tears streamed down his face, dripping onto the cold floor beneath him.

For the first time, Dr. White felt the true horror of the chair he had used to break so many others. The agony was unbearable, his nerves on fire, his body trembling uncontrollably. The suffocating fear that had consumed his test subjects now consumed him.

"Don't you like it?" John asked, his voice calm yet dripping with malice. He leaned in closer, his face inches from White's. "This chair has seen countless lives ruined... and now, it's your turn."

White's cries grew louder, more desperate, but John's expression remained unmoved. This wasn't mercy. This was justice.

"Please stop! I beg you, stop it!" Dr. White screamed, his voice breaking under the weight of his agony. "I-I'll tell you everything about this lab! Everything! Just please, let me go!"

John tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. His cold gaze bore into White, searching for any hint of deceit.

A sudden pungent smell filled the air. John glanced down, his eyes landing on the growing wet patch on White's pants. He smirked, his tone laced with mockery. "You pissed yourself? Pathetic. I thought the man behind all those experiments would have a stronger spine."

White's breath hitched, his humiliation only deepening his panic. "Please," he sobbed. "I'll tell you everything, just stop!"

"Tell me," John said, his tone devoid of emotion. "Tell me everything you know about this facility."

Dr. White's words tumbled out in frantic, broken sobs. "The lab… it's designed to create drugs to enhance mutant powers! We—" he faltered, choking on his fear, "we conducted experiments, forced mutations, used... used your kind like tools."

John's grip on the armrest tightened, his knuckles turning white. He had already pieced together as much—that this place was either amplifying abilities or finding ways to strip mutants of their powers entirely. What he needed now was something more crucial: the identity of the people behind it.

"Who built this facility?" John asked, his voice sharp and commanding. "Who do you work for?"

Dr. White's eyes widened in panic, darting around the room as though searching for a way out. "I—I don't know!" he stammered. "We just receive orders! I swear! I don't know their identities!"

John's eyes narrowed, his suspicion deepening. "You expect me to believe that? This isn't the government's doing," he continued, his tone colder than ice. "The security here doesn't match their capabilities. So who is it? Tell me!"

White began to tremble, his body convulsing with fear. "It's… it's private," he finally blurted out. "I… I work for Mr. Adam. He was the one who hired me. Please, let me go!"

"Mr. Adam?" John repeated, his voice laced with menace. "Who is this Mr. Adam? Speak. Tell me everything you know. Now."

"Mr. Adam is the CEO of AZI, our pharmaceutical company," White stammered, his words tumbling out in desperation. "He asked me to join him in creating a drug to enhance mutant abilities."

John leaned closer, his face inches from White's. "If you're lying," he hissed, his tone deadly, "you'll pray for death before I'm done with you."

White shook his head frantically, the fear in his eyes palpable. "I-I'm not lying! I swear! He's dangerous. You don't want to mess with him!"

John's expression didn't waver. "I don't care about how dangerous he is. I'll find him," he said, his voice like a blade. "And you... you're going to help me get to him."

Dr. White whimpered, his voice barely a whisper. "Please, I told you everything... please don't kill me."

********

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