Throne of the Ghost Emperor (Danny Phantom X Naruto)
Chapter 70 - 18

Chapter 70 - 18

Chapter 18: "Naruto Possesses Me and All I Got Was a Gang Empire"

(Also, possibly PTSD. Definitely both.)

Danny Fenton was, for lack of a better term, completely asleep. We're talking full-on, mouth-slightly-open, face-in-a-pillow, dead-to-the-universe type sleep. And honestly? He needed it. Between ghost-hunting, interdimensional hero training, and dying a few dozen colorful ways in Naruto's mental VR death simulator, the kid was tired.

But while Danny's body snoozed like a newborn baby in a chakra-infused nap pod, someone else had clocked in for the night shift.

Enter: Naruto Uzumaki, part-time mentor, full-time ninja legend, and—at this very moment—Danny's consciousness co-pilot.

And boy, did he have plans.

The moment Naruto slipped into the driver's seat of Danny's body, things changed. The exhaustion? Gone. Muscles? Snapped to attention like well-trained soldiers. Chakra? Flowing like the world's spiciest energy drink. Naruto gave a slow stretch, the kind that made every joint pop like bubble wrap. He glanced down at Danny's now slightly buffer frame and grinned.

"Hmm," he mused, rolling Danny's shoulder. "This kid's body is finally catching up. Good. He might actually survive the next emotional crisis."

He slipped on a black mask, grabbed the handgun he'd confiscated from a particularly mouthy mercenary last week, and stepped into the night like the world's most grounded hallucination.

Mission Brief:

Target – Arrogant Gang Boss with a fancy mansion and too many opinions.

Status – Ignored all warnings, doubled his security, and reinforced his windows.

Objective – Make him regret all of the above.

Naruto moved through the darkness like a rumor—fast, quiet, and just a little bit terrifying. Guards were patrolling, sure. But they may as well have been butter in a world made of knives.

He ducked, weaved, climbed. Naruto scaled the mansion walls with the grace of a caffeinated cat, eyes gleaming behind the mask. The iron bars? Cute. The extra guards? Adorable. He got in through a skylight like Santa Claus with murder intent.

Once inside, he went full ninja mode: pressure-point taps, silent takedowns, and dramatic one-liners whispered to unconscious bodies like, "Should've stayed home, buddy." (They didn't hear it. But he enjoyed it.)

It wasn't until he reached the big boss's bedroom door that things got... less subtle.

With a satisfying BAM, Naruto kicked the door in like a SWAT team made of vengeance. Bullets greeted him immediately. As in, they exploded through the doorway in a welcome that said, "Please die."

Naruto didn't.

He dove, rolled, and popped up like a ghost in an action movie. His voice sliced through the chaos, cold and precise:

"You know, I wanted to handle this peacefully. But now? Now you've left me no choice. You'll suffer for this transgression against me, scum."

Translation: "Congrats! You've unlocked boss fight difficulty: NIGHTMARE MODE."

What happened next could only be described as "emotional terrorism with a side of murder vibes."

Naruto unleashed his bloodlust—an ancient ninja art that was basically terrifying people into freezing up so hard they forgot how knees worked. The air got thick. Like could-cut-it-with-a-kunai thick. Gangsters who had probably eaten nails for breakfast were suddenly sweating like they were back in high school, about to give a book report in their underwear.

The gang boss? Yeah, his soul left the building. If you looked close, you could probably see it running out the window screaming, "NOPE."

Naruto didn't slow down.

He walked forward like a horror movie villain with plot armor, lifted the gun, and bang—shot the guy's arm.

"Left one," he said. "You don't need it."

Cue: screaming. Lots of it.

Gang members stood frozen like statues, silently agreeing that this was not in the employee handbook.

Naruto leaned down, voice like a glacier sliding into your nightmares. "Now, you will serve me or die. And don't think for a second you're irreplaceable. I could just as easily control your wife and run this operation through her."

The boss's eyes bulged. His entire criminal career, upstaged by a supernatural teen meat puppet and a blond war god inside him. Finally, with all the dignity of a kicked puppy, he gasped:

"I submit! I submit!"

Naruto smirked. Not a wide grin. Just enough to say, Good. You're learning.

With a nod, he pulled back the bloodlust, letting the pressure in the room vanish like a popped balloon. The tension broke, and the gangsters nearly fell over from the shock of not dying.

"Good boy," Naruto said, plopping onto a velvet sofa like a conquering emperor. "Now, patch yourself up. We'll talk logistics after you stop screaming."

He kicked his feet up, fully aware that Danny's body, though evolving, was not made for full-scale psychological warfare on a Wednesday night.

Still. Worth it.

Meanwhile, in Dreamland...

Danny drooled peacefully on a chakra pillow.

Somewhere deep in his subconscious, he muttered, "Kaboom..."

-----------------------------

If there's one thing that makes a gang boss shut up and listen, it's being shot in the arm by a terrifying ninja using the body of a sleepy teenage ghost hero. Classic Tuesday night stuff.

Naruto sat calmly on a velvet couch like he was giving a TED Talk on How Not to Die Horribly When a Shadow War Immortal Walks into Your Mansion. Meanwhile, the gang boss sat slumped in a chair, clutching a hastily bandaged arm and trying very hard not to breathe too loudly. Around them, the rest of his men stood like mannequins that had just learned fear.

Naruto's tone was casual, but every word was a decree etched in ice.

"From now on," he began, "your illegal activities are over."

The boss twitched, either from pain or from the part of his brain that still thought running drugs was a good idea. Naruto's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Instead," he continued, voice steady and unyielding, "you're going legit. Start trade routes with underdeveloped countries. Invest in infrastructure. Clean water. Food access. Education. Healthcare. You know, the stuff good guys do."

The boss blinked. "...What?"

Naruto didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to.

"These sectors are stable. Profitable. And they come with the added bonus of not attracting vigilantes who shoot you in the arm."

A pained, wheezing laugh came from one of the thugs, followed by a sharp glare from Naruto that made the poor guy reconsider his entire life.

Naruto stood and paced slowly, gesturing with one hand as he continued. "Your men? Keep them. But no more petty crime. I'll turn them into proper security personnel. Bodyguards. Investigators. Watchdogs. I'll oversee the operation myself."

The gang boss nodded so hard it looked like his neck might snap.

"I'll give you a month to turn things around," Naruto added, "and I expect progress reports. Lie to me, and—" He raised a hand and made a small click motion with his thumb and index finger. "Boom."

The word hung in the air like a thundercloud.

The boss turned sheet white. "You... you put a bomb in me?"

Naruto smiled, though it was the kind of smile you didn't want to see in a dark alley. Or a well-lit room. Or anywhere, really.

"Explosive seal. Chakra-based. Tied to your vital signs. You do something stupid, I do something louder."

The man swallowed, face already moist with sweat. "Understood, sir."

"Good." Naruto extended his hand, palm up. "Keys. Finances. Plans."

Like a man handing over the last cookie on Earth to a very angry bear, the gang boss pulled a small ring of keys from his pocket and a slim silver card from inside his blood-stained jacket.

Naruto took them with a nod. "Pleasure doing business."

The boss blinked. "Wh-what should we call you? Sir?"

Naruto paused. Something flickered behind his masked face—half thoughtfulness, half drama.

"Call me Phantom."

A few minutes later, the roar of a motorcycle echoed through the quiet streets. A red Honda Fireblade—freshly liberated from the gang's garage—tore down the empty highway with Naruto at the helm. The city lights blurred past as the wind whipped against him, and for a moment, he allowed himself a breath of satisfaction.

One base of operations secured. One criminal empire rebranded. And Danny... still blissfully unconscious.

Naruto chuckled under his breath.

"Kid's gonna wake up and wonder why he has a high-end motorcycle and a business portfolio."

The wind rushed louder, the moon overhead casting silver light across the road as Naruto accelerated into the night.

One step closer to the future.

---------------------------

The city was quiet. Peaceful. Serene. A perfect night for reading a book, walking a dog... or absolutely terrorizing the local traffic department on a high-performance motorcycle.

Guess which one Naruto picked?

The red Honda Fireblade thundered down the main avenue like a dragon on wheels, its engine growling loud enough to wake the dead—or at least mildly annoy them. Neon lights streaked past in colorful blurs, painting the streets like a rave had exploded on every corner. Naruto leaned forward, the wind battering his face, but he didn't slow down. Nope. That would've been responsible.

And Naruto wasn't in the mood for responsible.

He was in the mood for mapping.

Yeah, seriously. While most people used apps like Google Maps or whatever magical interface Danny's phone had these days, Naruto preferred the old-fashioned way: memorize every alley, every overpass, and every suspicious taco truck that definitely wasn't selling tacos. Because soon enough, Danny would wake up from his supernatural nap, and someone had to make sure he didn't get lost on his way to heroic greatness.

But apparently, someone forgot to tell the local cops this was an important mission.

The moment those red-and-blue lights flickered in his rearview mirrors, Naruto sighed. "Of course."

The sirens whooped. A voice on a loudspeaker tried to be intimidating: "Pull over immediately!"

Naruto, ever polite, considered it for exactly 0.2 seconds.

Then he grinned under his mask. "Let's give them a show."

With one flick of his wrist, the Fireblade kicked into overdrive. The engine screamed, shadows swirled, and suddenly, Naruto was no longer just a mysterious biker.

He was a legend.

Dark tendrils of chakra coiled around him, wrapping the bike in a cloak of pure shadow. The wheels ignited in blue ghost-flame—yes, ghost-flame, because regular fire just didn't have enough drama. His form shimmered, cloaked in unnatural darkness, looking less like a person and more like a myth your grandma warned you about right before she smacked you with a slipper.

The cops? Let's just say they were having a day.

"WHAT IN THE ACTUAL—" one of them yelled, gripping the steering wheel like it could protect him.

"Is that... is that a demon?!"

"Bro, is that Ghost Rider?!"

"Nope," Naruto muttered with a smirk, weaving effortlessly between cars. "Better."

He zipped through traffic like a shadow-born pinball, pulling off stunts that made Fast & Furious look like a tricycle commercial. He skidded sideways through a fish market (sorry, Frank the Fish Guy), jumped over a moving delivery truck, and at one point did a wheelie past a cop with sunglasses who honestly looked like he regretted every career decision he'd ever made.

And the best part? Naruto wasn't just joyriding.

He was leading the cops away—strategically. Every turn, every daredevil move, was designed to draw them away from the neighborhood, away from Danny's hiding spots and safe zones. This was misdirection 101, with a masterclass in style.

Eventually, he roared into an old industrial zone—think rusty pipes, creepy abandoned factories, and maybe one haunted vending machine—and made a sharp turn into the shadows.

The police cars skidded to a halt behind him. Doors opened. Flashlights flicked on.

"Where did he go?"

"I... I think he vanished."

"Should we call backup?"

"Dude. That was the backup."

Hidden in the darkness, Naruto snorted quietly. With a lazy hand seal, the ghost flames flickered out. The shadows dissipated. The bike shifted back to its sleek, factory-default glory. One very ordinary red Honda Fireblade, now totally un-possessed.

The officers mumbled confused things and eventually climbed back into their cars, looking like they needed strong coffee and stronger therapy.

Naruto waited until they'd driven off, then rolled out of the shadows like a guy returning from a midnight grocery run.

Mission accomplished.

As the city skyline faded behind him and Danny's neighborhood drew closer, Naruto slowed the bike to a quiet hum. He pulled into an empty lot, cut the engine, and stared up at the night sky.

Stars. Still there.

Good.

He took a long breath, the kind that fills your lungs with cool air and makes you feel like the world just might be survivable after all.

"Danny," he murmured, almost to himself, "you're gonna have one heck of a morning."

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