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"Commander… something's off."
Deep in the Land of Wind—inside Sunagakure itself—Murashima Takumi and his people were holed up in a small, hidden house.
They'd been in Suna for several days now.
In that time, they'd only made brief contact with the Konoha-aligned assets buried inside Sunagakure's ANBU network—then stayed underground, keeping their heads down and their mouths shut.
Their target had never changed:
Ebizō.
But that was the problem.
Ebizō had vanished.
No one knew where he was.
Even the Suna contacts Konoha had flipped—through pressure, bribery, or leverage—couldn't produce a single reliable lead.
It put Murashima's squad in an awkward spot.
It wasn't like they hadn't considered infiltrating Suna ANBU directly to investigate.
But after ROOT's last operation, Suna's ANBU had become a fortress.
Even elite Konoha ANBU like them found it difficult—borderline impossible—to slip inside cleanly.
Because no matter how strong you were, one truth didn't change:
You couldn't fight an entire village's defenses alone.
People liked to bring up "Lone Wolf" as proof it could be done—
but that had been wartime.
Most of Suna's shinobi were on the front, and internal defenses were thin.
Even then, Lone Wolf's unit had been almost wiped out just to get one person out alive.
So Murashima's team waited. Patient. Methodical.
They used every small ANBU trick they had to gather scraps of information—
and then, today, they sensed the shift.
Messenger hawks.
Normally, it was the most common communication method between shinobi.
But today, the number of hawks was clearly higher.
And Suna's internal movement was heavier, sharper—more frequent.
Security tightened.
The village felt like it had stiffened, as if bracing for impact.
That only meant one thing:
Something had happened.
And Sunagakure already had too many fires burning.
Iwagakure pressure.
The Kazekage preparing to go to the front.
Kirigakure ambushing Suna mission teams.
And a Konoha ANBU called Nightingale who was driving them mad.
With threats like that, even the smallest disturbance could set them on edge.
Any "big" movement made them worry about being backstabbed by the other front.
If they weren't also locked in a standoff with Iwa, Suna would have enough manpower to handle the chaos.
But the current troop deployments had hollowed out the village.
If someone took advantage right now…
the losses would be catastrophic.
"It looks like we won't be able to continue," the pineapple-haired ANBU sighed. "Commander, we've gathered a lot of intel over these days… but they're skittish as cornered animals. It's hard to move."
"Agreed," another ANBU said quietly. "They're dealing with trouble on every side. Even a tiny ripple makes them think someone's trying to fish in muddy water."
Murashima Takumi frowned.
To him, a mission wasn't "work."
It was life.
And this situation was exactly the kind of headache he hated most.
Before they'd left, Sarutobi Hiruzen had emphasized the same thing again and again:
This mission required flexibility.
On paper, they were here to assist Nightingale's safe extraction.
If, during that assistance, they could also kill Ebizō…
that would be ideal.
That was why Murashima had been so intent on finding Ebizō—so intent on cutting down Sunagakure's ANBU Chief with his own hands.
"Commander." The ANBU called Owl finally spoke. "At this stage, we probably can't keep forcing the Ebizō angle."
Owl's tone remained controlled, but the meaning was sharp.
"And even if we continue, I suggest we act with more flexibility. For example… shift our focus to supporting Captain Nightingale, and create chaos inside Suna. That's the best way to draw out the real 'big figures'…"
He paused.
"…if Ebizō is even still in the village."
The room fell silent.
Several ANBU frowned instantly.
Because if Owl was right, then what he was proposing was simple:
They'd be putting themselves in real danger.
They'd accepted risk when they took the mission.
But no one truly wanted to die.
The problem was—
Owl wasn't just any ANBU.
He was one of the Hokage's most trusted operatives.
And his relationship with Murashima Takumi was… special.
Inside ANBU, there was a saying:
Only two people could stop Murashima Takumi once he'd decided something.
One was the Third Hokage.
The other was Owl.
That was why the others were tense.
If Murashima listened and moved to execute Owl's plan, they had no authority to refuse.
But the price of that plan…
was not small.
Murashima Takumi, however, wasn't blind.
He understood why Owl had come with him.
Owl's job was simple: stop him when necessary.
After years working together, they had their own unspoken rhythm.
He could hear the warning embedded in Owl's phrasing—especially the word flexibility.
That word wasn't random.
It was exactly what the Hokage had told Murashima privately before departure.
Owl was reminding him:
This was the moment to make a flexible call.
And Owl had already laid out the call for him—
Stop clinging to what they couldn't confirm.
Stop forcing a dead-end.
And that last line made it explicit:
Without Ebizō intel, they couldn't even be sure Ebizō was still in Suna.
Murashima Takumi nodded slowly, then spoke in a cold, disciplined tone.
"Correct. Right now, we can't even determine whether Ebizō is in Sunagakure."
His eyes narrowed.
"I'd prefer to kill him. But we cannot abandon the Hokage's mission."
That line alone made the room brighten.
The pineapple-haired ANBU leaned forward and asked softly, "Then, Commander… what do we do?"
"We cover Nightingale's extraction," Murashima said flatly. "Our target is the border garrison and perimeter units."
"We create enough disorder that they can't transmit commands cleanly."
"Then we withdraw immediately—drawing part of their forces along with us."
"Understood?"
"Yes, Commander!"
...
Hikaru had no idea that drama was unfolding inside Sunagakure.
If he knew?
He'd find them.
And he'd look for a chance to kill Murashima Takumi.
A Konoha ANBU Commander dying outside the village—on Suna territory—
that would be a truly interesting outcome.
Suna would even gladly take the blame.
To them, it would be glory.
To Hikaru, it would be a perfect strike against Sarutobi Hiruzen's control over ANBU—
and an even better stepping stone for his own future ambitions.
But Hikaru didn't know.
And right now, all of his focus was on the Suna shinobi in front of him.
His movements were clean and decisive.
As his Flying Thunder God and Sage Mode coordination became more practiced, his killing became more efficient—more merciless.
More Suna shinobi fell.
Fear spread like a silent disease.
If not for strict discipline, they might've turned and run already.
"Move!" someone shouted.
The Suna ANBU finally stopped watching.
They couldn't tolerate Hikaru's slaughter any longer.
Their original plan had been to gather more intel while buying time—wait for his chakra and stamina to drop, then strike and finish him cleanly.
But the part that shocked them most—
was that he didn't seem to be dropping at all.
No visible fatigue.
No thinning chakra.
He'd used Flying Thunder God countless times.
He'd unleashed a massive area jutsu.
So why did he still feel… full?
They didn't have an answer.
But they knew they couldn't keep waiting.
Waiting meant more bodies.
They'd started with over a hundred.
Now they had fewer than thirty.
Seventy shinobi had been erased—not in battle.
In a slaughter.
Under normal circumstances, once a force recognized this level of disparity, they'd retreat.
But they didn't have permission.
Their order from above was absolute:
Leave him here.
Or kill him.
They didn't dare disobey.
"Finally willing to act?"
Watching the ANBU move, Hikaru let out a subtle breath.
Because the truth was—
he wasn't nearly as relaxed as he looked.
Maintaining Sage Mode while repeatedly using Flying Thunder God was a consumption rate that most shinobi couldn't even imagine.
Yes, it gave him combat power that was unprecedented for this era.
The corpses proved that much.
But if this were Hikaru from a few days ago, he'd never fight like this.
He'd ambush once, kill a handful using marked kunai and his lizards, then retreat.
His Sage Mode back then couldn't last more than a few minutes.
What he was doing now was shocking—simple, brutal, and perfectly aligned with his strengths.
But the cost was enormous.
"If my recovery weren't already strong… if my chakra weren't currently fully released…"
Hikaru's thoughts ran cold and clear as he retreated a half-step, avoiding the first wave of ANBU strikes.
"And if I still had seeds consuming chakra, I couldn't maintain this tempo."
"Even with faster recovery and more chakra, if I keep burning it like this, I'll eventually hit a wall."
He narrowed his eyes.
"Still… my stamina being this good is unexpected. Bloodline enhancement really is comprehensive."
The ANBU had watched him for a long time.
Even while advancing, they held a tight formation—clearly trying to deny him any chance to use Flying Thunder God for a clean ambush.
At first glance, it worked.
Hikaru didn't immediately counterattack, as if he'd been forced into a corner.
But that wasn't the reason.
Hikaru's sensory field had already detected something else:
A larger force was coming.
Close to two hundred shinobi.
That number could raid a small country.
And beyond that—
he could sense additional groups moving in from even farther away.
So many that it felt like the entire border garrison had been mobilized.
"This is getting… big," Hikaru thought, and his mouth curled into a faint smile.
"Do they really need this many people?"
"Unless…"
His eyes sharpened.
He understood the Fourth Kazekage's real intention now.
Flying Thunder God.
If they captured him alive—interrogate, extract the method.
If they killed him—
take the head.
Dig out the secret from his brain.
Hikaru almost laughed.
"Rasa's confident."
Even if Suna got the technique… who in Suna was going to learn it?
Still—
that didn't change what Hikaru needed to do next.
"It's time to leave."
He drew his sword and slashed at a nearby ANBU.
The cut was too fast.
Even though the ANBU tried to dodge, he couldn't avoid it completely.
But the man understood he was dead.
The instant Hikaru's blade tore him open, the ANBU grabbed the sword with both hands—clamping down with suicidal force.
That split-second pause—
was all the others needed.
Multiple ANBU surged in.
But space-time ninjutsu had always been the most maddening kind.
Right as they were about to collide with him—
Hikaru vanished.
He reappeared more than ten meters away.
Still surrounded.
The Suna forces weren't idiots.
Even with heavy losses, they remained wary of the marked kunai Hikaru had left behind.
They didn't close in.
They kept distance.
And that distance gave Hikaru enough time to respond.
"Then let's end this."
Hikaru raised his left hand, fingers held upright.
Chakra surged through him like a storm.
"Ninja Art: Summoning Jutsu!"
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