Mizuhara Aran's thoughts sharpened in an instant, and his COPY skill activated.
The bald man saw that this reckless brat was just standing there motionless and immediately felt his confidence surge. To think he'd actually believed the kid might have some real skills—now it seemed he was nothing more than an ordinary weakling.
The man's speed was fast—blindingly so. In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance, spinning the kunai in his hand. With a twist of his body, the angle of his attack shifted sharply, the blade darting in toward Aran's exposed left side, aiming for the soft spot beneath his arm.
Aran's gaze hardened, and a faint smirk tugged at his lips.
So… this guy really does want to cripple me.
The bald man caught sight of that mocking expression and felt a surge of anger. His arm shot forward, aiming to sever Aran's entire left arm.
"Guess I'll just start with you!" he snarled.
But just as the kunai was about to pierce Aran's body, a sudden shockwave burst from him—an invisible wave of raw killing intent rolling outward.
The bald man froze for half a heartbeat, startled by the abrupt shift. He had no idea how strong Aran truly was, but the sheer pressure radiating from him made his grip falter ever so slightly.
That tiny tremor was all Aran needed.
He lunged sideways in a swift, fluid movement, evading the thrust completely.
The bald man's eyes went wide. He hadn't expected this prey to move like that—cold precision in his steps. And now, too late, he regretted making the first move.
But regret wouldn't save him.
Aran's right leg shot up, driving forward with brutal force.
BAM!
"AAAAAHHHH—!"
The kick slammed into the man's stomach like a hammer. His body lifted off the ground, skidding and rolling across the dirt before smashing into the trunk of a thick tree with a bone-jarring thud.
"You…!"
The man glared up from the ground, disbelief etched on his face, blood spilling from his mouth before his eyes rolled back and he collapsed, unconscious.
Aran slowly lowered his leg, the faintest hint of amusement in his expression as he turned his gaze to the second bald man.
This one didn't rush in blindly. He stared back, cold and calculating—more cautious than his fallen partner.
So… this kid was playing the fool all along, the man thought bitterly. And I charged right in like an idiot. Hit a damn iron wall instead.
His eyes flicked toward the terrified girl beside him. His jaw clenched.
No way I'm letting the prize slip away now.
With a roar, he sprang forward, imitating his partner's earlier charge.
But this time, his hands were empty—no kunai in sight.
Mid-sprint, his fingers began to fly through hand seals.
"Water Style: Grand Water Flow Technique!"
A roaring torrent of water exploded from his mouth, surging toward Aran like a living wave.
Aran's lips curled into a cold smile.
"You dare use Water Style in front of me? You're asking for death."
His expression didn't change as his own hands blurred into a series of seals—smooth, practiced, and confident.
"Water Style: Grand Water Flow Technique!"
"What—?!" the bald man blurted, his eyes narrowing.
How the hell does this kid know the same jutsu?!
But there was no time to think. Even if they used identical techniques, he was still a Chūnin. There was no way he'd lose to some random brat… right?