"Hehe…" The pig-nosed shinobi chuckled darkly from the ground: "Are you surprised? You thought being Missing-nin made us cowards. But we were once shinobi of the Hidden Mist. We turned traitor because we had no choice, not because we lost our pride. You'll get nothing from us."
Renjiro's eyes widened, and shouted: "Damn it—"
Before Tsugami could even react, the pig-nosed shinobi suddenly lunged forward—driving his own neck against Tsugami's blade. The steel sank deep, slicing clean through until it nearly reached the back of his neck. The brutal, self-inflicted motion was swift and final—severing almost the entire head before anyone could stop him.
Puff!
"Shit!" Tsugami cursed, yanking his blade back in frustration as blood splattered across the ground. But it was already too late.
Renjiro swiftly turned to the final captive—the scar-faced rogue who had been apprehended by Maemon and Meri. He grabbed the man's jaw and tilted his head—only to see blood still trickling from his mouth and ears.
But his worst suspicion was confirmed. Just like the sensor-nin before him, the rogue had bitten down on a hidden poison pill embedded in his molar—silently ending his own life.
"What's wrong with those people?" Maemon muttered in disbelief. Their brutal resolve sent chills down everyone's spines.
"They knew that even if they gave us information, we wouldn't let them go." Renjiro said, shaking his head: "So they chose to end their own lives. As cruel as they were… I can't deny—they have the courage and will to be real shinobi."
They had already proven their ruthless nature by massacring three villages… but in the end, they were just as merciless toward themselves.
A heavy silence followed—until Tsugami finally broke it: "We're not getting any intel from them. So… what now?"
Everyone had assumed they could interrogate the three missing-nin. No one had expected such ruthless suicide.
Maemon adjusted his glasses and spoke coldly: "We should go on the offensive. They're missing-nin—scattered, without a formal chain of command. With three already dead, the rest are likely shaken. If we wait, they'll scatter. I say we strike now."
Renjiro turned: "Meri?"
Meri's voice was sharp and cold as she replied: "Beasts like them don't deserve mercy. We can't let them continue hurting innocent people."
Renjiro nodded, then looked to Tsugami: "Your thoughts?"
Tsugami answered flatly, his tone devoid of emotion: "They massacred entire villages… there's no excuse. Right, Domaru?"
"Woof! Woof!" Domaru barked in firm agreement.
A cold smile tugged at the corner of Renjiro's lips: "Then it's settled. We're all on the same page."
He rose to his feet and said: "Let's move out. We don't have much time—if they realize we've taken out those three, they might try to flee."
Then he turned to Tsugami and gave his orders without hesitation: "Tsugami, Domaru—you'll track their scent. We're counting on you to lead us to their base."
"Leave it to me." Tsugami replied with confidence.
Domaru sniffed the fallen rogues one by one, then padded forward, nose to the ground, tracking their scent.
Renjiro turned to his team, and said in a serious voice: "We don't know how many are left. The intel from the Genki Clan wasn't detailed. Stay sharp. No one acts alone. Follow my commands exactly. Understood?"
"Understood!" Meri, Tsugami, and Maemon responded in unison.
"Good. Then let's move. Tsugami?"
"We're ready," Tsugami replied. He turned to his partner and called out: "Domaru!"
"Woof! Woof!"
Domaru barked twice, then ducked beneath Tsugami's legs, lifting him slightly onto his back as he bolted into the forest.
"Move out!" Renjiro ordered, breaking into a sprint behind them.
Maemon and Meri followed close behind, and in moments, the team disappeared into the trees.
---
Under Domaru's lead, Team Renjiro followed the faint trails left by the three Mist Missing-nin. The path wound through the forest until they reached the enemy's base of operations.
It wasn't much. A makeshift camp built hastily in the forest—rudimentary, lacking defenses. But for their needs, it was enough. After all, the Genki Clan was so terrified they wouldn't even step outside their village. Defense wasn't a priority.
Now, crouched in a dense thicket not far from the camp, Renjiro and his team were observing them in silence. The lesson from the sensor-nin had been harsh. With the enemy hidden and their side exposed, Renjiro didn't dare use Mind Net recklessly.
"Woof! Whine... whine..."
Just as Renjiro was about to give instructions, Domaru let out a low whimper, signaling something urgent. Domaru glanced back, gesturing for them to follow.
Renjiro responded immediately with hand signs: caution, and move slowly and silently.
Then they advanced, trailing Domaru around the perimeter of the camp.
Domaru stopped suddenly at the far end of the camp and burst through a shrub.
Whoosh!
Renjiro gave a silent signal—follow Domaru.
Just beyond the bushes was an open area. A man was lying on the ground with his arms and legs bent in strange, unnatural angles. Even from far away, it was easy to see he was dying—his breathing was weak and barely noticeable.
"Captain?" Tsugami whispered, waiting for instructions.
Mind Net!
Renjiro activated his ability, narrowing its range to avoid being detected. After scanning the area and confirming there were no threats within a hundred meters, he gave a nod.
He approached the wounded man and gently laid him on his back. The boy looked young—barely seventeen or eighteen. Tsugami's face grew grim as he immediately began performing some simple medical Jutsu.
"Let me help." Meri said, kneeling beside him. Though her chakra control wasn't suited for medical jutsu, she still did her best to assist.
Five tense minutes passed before Tsugami finally pulled his hands away, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"How is he?" Renjiro asked, his brow furrowed. The boy still hadn't regained consciousness.
Tsugami shook his head and said grimly: "He's alive, but just barely. His injuries are beyond anything I can fix—bones shattered, organs failing, and cell necrosis has already started. It's a miracle he's still breathing."
Meri clenched her fists, eyes blazing with fury: "Those bastards… how could they do this to someone?"
As if responding to Tsugami's medical Jutsu, the boy's eyelids fluttered open. He blinked slowly, his eyes struggling to focus on the faces above him.
"Wh… who… are you?" He asked in a trembling voice.
Renjiro leaned in closer, speaking softly: "We're shinobi from Konoha. You're badly hurt—try not to speak."
A faint light flickered in the boy's eyes—hope: "Ko…noha… you're the help the Genki Clan sent for… right?"
Renjiro's brows drew together. The clarity in the boy's voice—it felt like his final moment. He glanced at Tsugami, who gave a subtle nod, silently confirming it.
Renjiro sighed, then nodded back: "Yes. We're here to help."
"Who are you?" Maemon asked calmly.
The boy gave a bitter, crooked smile as tears began to stream down his face: "Me? Just a fool… You should already know who I am—the one who invited the wolves into his own home. The so-called traitor who led the Mist Missing-nin to the Genki Clan."
Understanding dawned across the team's faces. This was the nephew Itai had mentioned—the one responsible for bringing ruin to this land.
"But… how did you end up like this?" Meri asked softly.
The boy's smile twisted into one of self-mockery: "Because I forgot my place. I dared to speak out. Dared to challenge that monster… and this was my reward."
He didn't mention how he had begged the Mist missing-nin to spare the Genki Clan. He didn't speak of the beatings, the shattered limbs, or how they had tossed him aside like garbage once he outlived his usefulness.
"You're here… to hunt the Mist missing-nin, right?" He asked, his voice growing weaker.
Despite the pain, despite his condition, the self-blame and hatred burning inside him were stronger than fear. It was clear he was staying conscious through sheer force of will.
Even though this boy had caused the tragedy that befell the Genki Clan, Renjiro and his team said nothing. It wasn't their place to judge—and the boy was already paying dearly for his mistake. More importantly, they needed information before he slipped away for good.
Renjiro nodded and asked calmly: "We've already dealt with three of them. Tell me—how many are left?"
The young man exhaled with difficulty, his breath ragged. The effort made him cough up a mouthful of blood: "Ahm! Ahh… So… those three bastards are dead… Ahm…"
He forced his head up, ignoring the agonizing pain twisting through his broken body. With every ounce of strength he had left, he looked Renjiro in the eye: "Then… only one remains… But don't… underestimate him."
"Ahmmm! Ahmmm!"
He struggled to sit up, coughing violently.
Tsugami immediately caught him, steadying his body: "Don't move too much. You've already lost too much blood."
"I heard them talk… Their leader… Haoichi…" The young man wheezed, his voice was trembling: "Before he defected… Ahmm! He was a Special Jonin from the Hidden Mist."
Renjiro and the others froze: "Special Jonin…"
A shinobi of that level was a terrifying opponent—even more so when trained in one of the Five Great Ninja Villages. For their current squad, facing someone like that wasn't just difficult—it was dangerous.
Maemon adjusted his glasses, and asked in low and cautious voice: "Do you know how strong he actually is?"
The boy shook his head weakly, lowering his gaze: "I… I never saw him fight. It was always his subordinates… who did the work."
Tsugami let out a slow breath: "A Special Jonin—and on top of that, a Missing-nin from the Hidden Mist… That's far above our mission grade."
Then he turned to Renjiro, and asked with hesitation in his voice: "Captain… what do we do? Should we retreat and report back—or continue the mission?"
All eyes turned to Renjiro. This was the moment leadership truly mattered.
"Ahmmm! Ahmmm!"
The young man suddenly convulsed, coughing up more blood. Tsugami moved quickly to support him again: "Don't talk anymore—you're barely holding on."
The young man's voice came out in a hoarse whisper: "On… my chest… Take it… Whatever you decide… please… bring it back… to the Genki Clan."
His bloodstained eyes met Renjiro's, filled with remorse and regret: "P-Please… tell my uncle… I'm sorry…"
Renjiro nodded solemnly: "I will."
The young man managed to give a faint, peaceful smile: "Th…ank… you…"
Then the light faded from his eyes. Tsugami slowly withdrew his hands and shook his head: "He's gone."
Renjiro stepped forward and carefully reached into the boy's torn shirt. Inside, tucked against his chest, was a small, worn notebook. Four large words were carved into its cover:
Hardened Flesh Technique
He opened it. On the left-hand pages were detailed anatomical diagrams showing various body postures. On the right—notes in fine, cramped writing described training instructions, chakra control techniques, and cautionary tips.
It outlined a Taijutsu technique that hardened the user's muscles with chakra to reduce incoming physical damage. However, the tradeoff was reduced speed and flexibility.
A simple, low-level defensive technique barely reaching C-Rank Jutsu.
[Beep! Critical Data Detected! Requesting Archival Access... Requesting Archival Access!]
Suddenly, the cold, metallic voice of Arkain echoed sharply in Renjiro's mind.
Renjiro blinked in surprise. Then, without hesitation, he reopened the notebook.
Inherited technique? Genki Clan secret technique? He couldn't care less. If it could help him grow stronger, that was all that mattered.
Morals? He wasn't bound by lofty ideals. He wasn't stealing—just reading. No one was going to suffer for it. The only outcome would be power—and that, he intended to keep for himself.
---
Author's Note:
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