"We're being followed," Aaron said quietly, his eyes flicking to the shadows between the street stalls.
"Are you sure?" Fiona asked, her brow furrowed. Her tone held disbelief, but she stayed close behind him.
Auriel and David exchanged a look. The kind that carried more weight than words.
David spoke first. "We should head to the inn. We will plan further once we're inside."
The group picked up their pace, boots tapping against the worn cobblestones. Around them, Blueish City stirred with its usual mix of noise vendors shouting prices, the clatter of carts but something about it all felt just a little… off.
Auriel whispered, "No one should be after us. We've been here less than three days. No conflicts. No threats."
"And I definitely haven't upset anyone," Fiona added quickly. Her voice was steady, but she kept glancing over her shoulder. "Not before I joined you, or since."
Aaron didn't respond. He paused at a corner, eyes narrowing as a figure in a dark hood slipped out of view down an alley.
"They're cautious," he murmured. "Whoever it is, they know how to stay hidden. But not from me."
Aaron could feel it someone was tailing them. The intuition wasn't his alone. The tracking techniques passed down from Iruka, simple though they were, had proven sharper than expected.
A few minutes later...
The group arrived at the Dusk Inn. Without breaking the stride, they booked a room. Minutes later, they were gathered in David's quarters.
The tension was thick.
"What now?" David asked, glancing between them.
Auriel and Fiona remained silent. Their group had only been traveling together for a few days they had no contacts here, no allies, no plan for dealing with a hidden threat.
Auriel finally broke the quiet, her voice cold.
"Maybe we will hire a mercenary. Someone who knows the city "
"No," Aaron interrupted. "I'll go. I need to find out who they are, and why they're following us."
He looked to the others, firm but calm.
"You three should be ready to leave if anything goes wrong."
The room fell into stunned silence. Fiona's brow furrowed. David stepped forward.
"Aaron, that's reckless. Don't forget we're a team."
Aaron shook his head.
"I know. But I have a feeling they're after me. This might not involve any of you… yet. I just need to confirm it."
Then, without hesitation, he formed the hand seals. Chakra shimmered faintly, wrapping around him. In a moment, his appearance shifted he now resembled a young man in his early twenties, ordinary yet unfamiliar.
"I'll be wearing this face," he said. "Stay sharp while I'm gone."
As the group watched, speechless, Aaron gave them a faint nod and then disappeared through the window in a fluid motion. The alley below welcomed him with silence. Dank walls, moss clinging to stone, and the faint stench of damp brick. The narrow passage offered perfect cover. A flicker of movement overhead, and he was gone.
He pressed himself into the rhythm of the city, blending among the dusk-colored crowd. Lanterns bobbed overhead. Street vendors called half-heartedly to stragglers. His new face drew no attention just another wanderer.
But Aaron wasn't wandering.
Aaron turned into a quiet side street, then suddenly ducked behind a stack of crates. He waited, breathing steadily.
Moments later, a figure emerged at the mouth of the alley. Hooded. Light on their feet. Still searching.
Aaron's eyes narrowed. Let's find out who you really are.
Aaron slipped silently from the shadows, kunai already in hand. With practiced precision, he closed the distance swiftly, silently, and unseen. In a heartbeat, the cold steel of the blade pressed against the target's neck.
His voice, low and emotionless, cut through the silence like a dagger:
"Who are you?"
The target flinched, a cold bead of sweat trailing down his temple as the kunai's edge kissed his skin. His voice came out rough, half-swallowed by fear, but he managed a defiant whisper:
"You don't know what you're messing with…"
He swallowed hard, eyes darting sideways.
"I'm just a scout. If you kill me, you'll never see the others coming."
Aaron's eyes narrowed.
A scout? That explained the clumsy footsteps but not the quiet arrogance.
"Then you've already failed your mission."
His voice was a whisper laced with steel.
The blade didn't waver. If anything, it pressed just a fraction closer.
"Where are the others?" he demanded, his mind already mapping escape routes and ambush possibilities.
He could feel the familiar thrum beneath his skin. Not fear. Focus.
And if they were watching…
Let them.
The scout smirked, the voice tinged with admiration and just a hint of arrogance.
"I'm from the Bounty Hunter Group. You've heard of us, haven't you? We're famous across the provinces. Our leader's a Tier-2 adventurer and the group's three hundred strong."
Aaron's grip didn't loosen, but his eyes narrowed.
Tier-2?
The term rang unfamiliar.
"Is that a ranking system for adventurers?" he asked, tone measured. Then, it's colder:
"And why would a group like yours be tracking me or whoever held this name before?"
The scout hesitated, then muttered with a bitter chuckle.
"Word is, someone slapped a bounty on your head. Five hundred gold coins."
He looked up, defiance flickering in his eyes.
"That kind of reward turns shadows into hunters. No one's asking why just who's fast enough to claim it first."
The scout's words hung in the air like smoke.
500 gold coins.
That wasn't a bounty. That was a declaration.
Aaron's jaw tightened.
"So that's what I'm worth to them," he said quietly more to himself than to the man.
The scout tensed as the kunai shifted, just enough to remind him who held the power.
"You don't have to do this," he rasped, what I know. I'm just a"
Aaron's eyes were unreadable.
"You hunted me."
His voice was ice. "And if I let you go, you'll lead the others here."
A pause.
"That's not a risk I can afford."
The blade flashed once clean, silent, and efficient.
Blood surged forth like a crimson fountain, warm and viscous as it coated Aaron's hand.
His kunai trembled not from the impact, but from the weight that now clung to it.
His breath caught.
"I… I killed someone…"
The words tumbled out, fragile and raw, as if saying them made the moment real.
His gaze dropped to the lifeless figure sprawled before him, the pool of red spreading slowly across the forest floor.
He didn't kill out of rage. Not for vengeance.
He did it to survive.
But that didn't make his heartbeat any lighter.
Didn't steady the tremble in his fingers.
Aaron stood still trapped in that fragile space between instinct and consequence.