"..."
The silence was absolute, the air so still it felt like death itself had descended. The only sound was a faint, piercing ringing in the ears, like an illusion.
Out of pure physical instinct, Might Guy had just activated the Eight Gates Released Formation, but Hyūga Kumokawa's figure was already frozen mid-motion in a crouched, twisting stance.
He stared blankly as Kumokawa's long hair floated down behind him, scattering like strands of silk.
Then came a sharp plop!
Blood dripping from Kumokawa's palm, pooling at his fingertips before striking the ground and shattering the silence.
"Enemy attack?"
Might Guy's expression instantly hardened. His body blurred and vanished as he dashed without hesitation toward the direction of the assault.
But when he arrived, there was no one left.
Only a pool of crimson blood stained the ground—alongside a severed right arm. The cut was smooth and clean, bones and muscles clearly visible.
It was obvious. Kumokawa's thrown kunai hadn't killed the enemy, only managed to lop off their arm, forcing them into a desperate retreat.
Kumokawa soon walked over as well. He glanced once at the severed arm, then slowly raised his eyes toward the depths of the forest.
The trees swayed in the wind, leaves trembling, light and shadow broken into scattered fragments between the branches.
"Kumokawa, did you see him?" Gai asked from the side.
There were no trails of blood—clearly the enemy had treated the wound quickly to avoid leaving a trace.
"No." Kumokawa withdrew his gaze, shaking his head, his expression tinged with faint regret. "Too fast. I couldn't see clearly."
[Ding! Your lie has been judged as [Feign Ignorance]. Might Guy has experienced a strong emotional fluctuation, reaching the state of [Firm Belief]. You gained 300 Truth Points…]
The reason Kumokawa had chosen to get close to Might Guy in the first place was two reason.
On one hand, he valued the potential of this man who, in the future, would nearly kick the Sage of Six Paths Madara to near death.
On the other, he counted on Might Guy's honest and emotionally driven nature.
As expected, Might Guy didn't doubt Kumokawa's words for a second.
Once again, he unwittingly contributed points to him, his face heavy with anger. "This must be reported to Lord Third immediately! For someone to dare attack within Konoha itself!"
Suddenly remembering, Might Guy glanced at Kumokawa's hand in concern. "Wait—your injury…"
"It's fine. That guy's Wind Release was sloppy." Kumokawa smiled, waving dismissively, showing a palm with only a shallow bloody gash.
[Ding! Your lie…]
In truth, the situation had been dangerously close. The opponent's Wind Release technique wasn't nearly as simple as he claimed.
If he'd caught the blade instead of the handle, his entire hand might have been sliced off.
"Phew… good. As long as you're fine. Still, Kumokawa, since you awakened the Byakugan in the process, you could call it a blessing in disguise."
Might Guy exhaled in relief, though his stern expression didn't ease. The terrifying speed of that kunai still weighed heavily on his heart. Even with his bold spirit, he felt a lingering chill.
He even wondered: if that strike had been aimed at him instead—would he have been able to react?
The answer came quickly.
If he had opened the Eight Gates—even just the first—he would've been fast enough to dodge.
But the opponent would never have allowed such a chance.
That attack had been too sudden, too fast, and no one could've imagined an assassination attempt within Konoha's walls.
"Kumokawa, you were amazing."
Realizing this, Might Guy's gaze toward Kumokawa changed. He clapped his shoulder with admiration. "It seems my training is still far from enough. From now on, I'll add 500 more handstand walks to my daily regimen!"
Next time, even if the Shinigami himself came swinging a scythe, he would punch open his own path to survival.
"Just luck," Kumokawa said with a wry smile, shaking his head.
No system chime followed this time—meaning that in Might Guy's eyes, this wasn't luck but proof of real ability.
"Come. Let's get your wound dressed, then report this matter to Lord Third." Might Guy's tone grew solemn. "To think spies have already infiltrated Konoha and dared to strike at our comrades…"
Spies?
Not necessarily.
Kumokawa looked down at his already healed palm, recalling the silhouette he'd glimpsed through the Byakugan just moments ago. His eyes flickered thoughtfully.
Who was it?
Sarutobi Hiruzen?
No—that old man wouldn't act so soon. He hadn't exposed his true hand yet.
Then perhaps a remnant of Orochimaru's forces. Or maybe…
"Shimura Danzō." Kumokawa smirked to himself. "So quick to move? Truly, an expert at internal strife—and utterly useless at fighting outside enemies."
---
Meanwhile, at the edge of the Forest of Death.
A figure cloaked in black flickered through the trees with repeated Body Flicker techniques.
Only after putting considerable distance between himself and Kumokawa did he finally stop, clutching the stump of his arm as he collapsed to one knee upon a branch.
"Ugh—ah!"
Head bowed, face obscured, the black-robed man finally let out a strangled cry, pain and fear laced together, spilling through clenched teeth.
Damn it! Damn it! How could this happen?!
He had followed intelligence reports, lying in wait at a training ground the target often frequented.
When the target finally appeared, he'd felt almost relaxed. To him, this was supposed to be the simplest of missions.
So he used the technique he was most proud of—the jutsu personally passed down by Lord Danzō himself.
Yet, the instant he unleashed it, that brat suddenly froze mid-step, tilted his head slightly, and activated the Byakugan—a detail that hadn't been in the intelligence report.
Even then, he wasn't overly worried. He had been cautious, keeping himself far beyond the Byakugan's usual range, ensuring he always stayed within its blind spot.
But then—he saw the brat suddenly close his eyes. As though giving up.
The next instant, that kid raised his hand and caught the kunai wreathed in Wind Release chakra.
Yes—barehanded. Eyes closed. He caught it!
And not the blade—he seized the handle!
What kind of sick joke was this?!
The dense forest stretched endlessly, branches like a loose woven net above.
But with his sensory techniques active, he suddenly felt it—that across the great distance between them, he had locked eyes with a gaze as still and bottomless as dead water.
And then—before he could react—he heard it.
A sharp, whistling roar of wind.
Rain began to fall inside the forest.
It was like a spring breeze had passed quietly through the woods, silently trimming the dead leaves with scissors. Countless leaves fluttered down, scattering his sight into fragments.
It was beautiful.
But what followed was agony.
Splurt!
His arm—the one that had thrown the kunai—split open. The sleeve of his black robe shredded as a red line encircled the limb.
Blood sprayed. The arm fell to the ground with a dull thud.
"That brat… actually caught my jutsu—and sent it back at me!"
Kneeling on the branch, he trembled. He knew what had happened, but still couldn't comprehend it.
Wasn't the intel clear?
Wasn't that kid supposed to be a failure?
How could a failure barehanded catch a Wind Release technique crafted and perfected under Lord Danzō's personal guidance?!
Such terrifying reaction speed—and you tell me he's a waste?
If he's a waste… then what am I?
"Kamaitachi, what are you doing?"
A hoarse, gloomy voice cut into his thoughts, freezing him in place.
He looked up to see a shadowed figure standing before him—then quickly lowered his head, his voice trembling. "Lord Danzō, I…"
"Hmph. Worthless. So your mission failed."
Before he could finish, Shimura Danzō coldly cut him off, his gaze flicking to the missing arm.
This was a shinobi Danzō himself had trained—an assassin specialized in such missions.
In the past, against most jōnin, with proper preparation, this man could kill in a single strike.
But now…
"Losing your dominant arm… you're finished."
Danzō's narrow eyes glinted with shadowed malice. Interesting. So that Hyūga brat really isn't as simple as he seems. Orochimaru must have left something on him.
Hmph. Since Sarutobi dares to act unrighteously, stealing my Wood Release shinobi, he cannot blame me for responding in kind—by striking at this child.