The captain of the Iwa escort team assigned to protect the Ame noble was named Gari. He was a former elite member of Iwa's Demolitions Unit, known for his spiky hair and fierce gaze.

At this moment, he was briefing his team on the mission's next steps. "Once we finish the escort, we'll take this water route, disembark here, and head straight into the Land of Fire to regroup with the main force." His finger traced the path across the worn paper.

The war with Konoha will fill our coffers nicely. Every dead Konoha ninja means more resources for Iwa.

"If we encounter any Konoha ninjas along the way, kill them without mer—"

His orders were abruptly interrupted by an irate voice from outside.

"Those damn peasants are refusing to pay taxes?! Who gave them the nerve? I'm a noble personally titled by the daimyō!"

"You ninjas have to help me! If you don't, I'll complain to your Tsuchikage!"

Gari frowned, his instinct to kill swelling. His fingers drummed against the table, leaving small scorch marks where they touched. Client or not, this pig tests my patience.

Yet, as a high-ranking Iwa elite, the strict discipline of a shinobi was deeply ingrained in him. Ruthless as he could be with enemies, he couldn't unleash his anger on the mission's client.

Frustrated, he stepped outside and signaled his patrolling teammates to stand by.

"What's the commotion?" he asked.

Before his teammate could respond, the plump, middle-aged noble started shouting. "You can't just leave! You have to help me!"

Suppressing his frustration, Gari did his best to calmly explain. "Our mission is solely to escort you back home. We will handle any combat that arises along the route, but this issue is beyond our responsibility."

Count to ten. Remember the mission parameters. Don't explode the client.

"How is this not your concern? Those peasants have pitchforks and weapons! They want to harm me!" He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Eliminating them is also part of protecting my safety, and therefore, part of your mission."

Seeing Gari's rising anger in the tightening of his jaw, the noble slyly softened his approach.

"Of course, if you take care of those peasants and keep me safe, I might consider upgrading this mission to S-rank afterward. You know, I have a close relationship with your Tsuchikage. We're practically family friends!"

Gari's frown eased slightly.

Though the mission was rated A-rank, the noble was already paying the maximum rate, nearly equal to a standard S-rank mission fee. If he truly honored his promise to upgrade the mission, it would bring considerable income to the village, especially now, as Iwa had just declared war on Konoha and was in desperate need of funds.

After some thought, he agreed. Whether the Ame villagers were innocent was of no concern. The lives of peasants meant nothing compared to the needs of Iwa.

Soon, they reached the outskirts of a small town where the conflict was brewing. A tax collector employed by the noble was fleeing from a crowd of villagers armed with pitchforks, pleading for mercy, his expensive clothes now dirty from falling in the mud.

But as soon as the Iwa ninjas and noble appeared, the tax collector's demeanor changed instantly. He quickly stood tall beside the noble, mud still dripping from his clothes as he arrogantly shouted at the villagers.

"You peasants have lost your minds! How dare you defy a noble appointed by the daimyō? You must have a death wish!"

Amazing how fast a coward finds his courage with ninja backing, Gari thought with disgust.

A villager at the front, weathered face marked by years of hardship, shouted back angrily, "Who cares about nobles? Last year, you weren't here when times were hardest!"

"When rogue ninjas slaughtered a dozen people in the Droplet Village, you weren't here!"

"When floods destroyed our homes, you weren't here!"

"When we went hungry, you weren't here!"

"Now that we've finally found some peace, you come back—why?!"

The crowd behind him grew louder. They formed a tight group, protecting the elderly and children.

young girl, likely just a teenager, bravely stood at the front, clutching a wooden stick. Her clothes were patched but clean.

"Akatsuki saved us! We don't know any nobles! We only recognize Akatsuki!" she shouted.

The noble looked down on the defiant villagers with contempt, feeling utterly secure with the Iwa ninjas by his side. He even pulled out a silk scarf, waving it in front of his nose as if disgusted by the air. The gesture made several of the villagers grip their makeshift weapons tighter.

"Gari, look at these peasants—no, these criminals!"

"They refuse to listen, and they're threatening my safety with weapons! Go! Kill them all! This is your mission!"

Gari frowned, having done so more times today than in the entire previous week. His hands itched with the urge to detonate something.

A younger, more compassionate ninja beside him asked hesitantly, "Captain Gari, do we really have to attack? They're just civilians."

"Do it! They aren't citizens of our Land of Earth, anyway!" Gari ordered coldly.

Perhaps it was the inherent tragedy of the shinobi profession: they were bound to the rules set by the daimyō and nobles, yet were forced to enforce these same rules, feeding the endless cycle of suffering.

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Some of the younger ninjas still seemed reluctant, not yet hardened by experience. However, the older chunin and jonin obeyed without hesitation, spreading out to surround the villagers.

Gari approached the young girl in the front line. His ability was detonation, allowing him to make anything he touched explode instantly, so he rarely needed weapons or ninja tools.

He simply rushed forward, chakra gathering in his fist as he threw a punch toward her face. Let's see how brave you are with your face blown off.

The girl was pure, which stirred a twisted sense of pleasure in Gari as he prepared to destroy that innocence. To him, there was nothing wrong with that—wasn't this just the way of the shinobi?

But in the next instant, a gust of wind blew in.

"What?!" he cried out as the whirlwind launched him skyward. Wind-carried blades sliced through his flak jacket, leaving him bleeding and helpless in the vortex.

"Captain Gari!" His Iwa squad grabbed their weapons, scanning desperately for the unseen attacker.

The young girl, initially closing her eyes in terror, reopened them to find herself safely in someone's arms. The wooden stick she had held so bravely fell forgotten to the muddy ground.

She instantly recognized her rescuer. "You came! You saved us again!"

Shin gently patted her head, then he passed her to Yahiko, who was visibly conflicted. Only moments ago, he had argued against Shin intervening. But now, this scene struck at his conscience, challenging his sense of justice.

The girl's innocent words further pierced his heart. Her small hands gripped his cloak as she looked up at him with complete trust.

"Everyone in town says you're our heroes, our saviors! I was so scared!"

Then, smiling sweetly, she asked, "Was I brave just now?"

Yahiko was left speechless, utterly shaken by the courage of this small, defenseless girl.

"True cruelty isn't just standing by while someone dies; it's giving them false hope, only to abandon them when they're on the brink of despair," Shin said to Yahiko.

The little girl, not understanding, tilted her head in confusion, looking quite adorable. But Yahiko understood perfectly.

Shin was criticizing him for his tendency to act virtuous, only to shy away when things got truly dangerous.

He found himself unable to retort. He simply hugged the rescued little girl tightly, remaining silent.

Then, Shin raised a clenched fist and called out, "Action!"

On hearing this, the villagers wielding pitchforks in the front row quickly stepped back, even blocking those behind them.

"Just as he planned. Back away slowly," one villager whispered to another as they retreated.

"Remember, don't warn the others."

Unbeknownst to Yahiko, the villagers standing at the forefront—excluding the innocent girl in his arms—had been briefed in advance.

Once Shin gave the signal, they immediately recognized their task was complete and retreated decisively.

The ground shook with a deafening blast. The earth beneath the Iwa ninja split apart like a thousand thunderclaps, clouds of dust and debris surging skyward.

"What?! Ahhhh!"

The Iwa ninja gasped, then screamed in agony. Despite being known for their earth-based jutsu and terrain manipulation, this time they were the ones taught a painful lesson. Their bodies tumbled helplessly into the dark pit below, pride and skill meaning nothing against simple gravity.

Shin raised his fist and snapped his fingers with a sharp crack. Watch closely, Yahiko. This is how you protect people—not with dreams, but with preparation.

BOOM!!

The snap triggered a thunderous explosion. A wall of fire roared up from the pit's depths, tearing into the sky. The intense heat withered the grass meters away, turning the morning air into a furnace.

The pit had been prepared the previous night, lined with thousands of explosive tags. This was why the villagers had lured the noble's tax official to this exact spot. The screams from below faded into silence.

When the tax officer tried to leave, they used pitchforks to block him; if he tried to enter the village, they'd drive him away. Each villager played their part perfectly, their fear of the officials genuine even if their actions were orchestrated.

This game of tug-of-war continued until the portly middle-aged noble arrived, escorted by Iwa ninjas. However, the moment the Iwa ninjas accepted this escort mission, they had unwittingly sealed their fate.

The explosion killed every genin in the team instantly, while over half of the chunin suffered similar fates. Only three jonin, including Gari, barely managed to escape in one piece, each using their unique skills to survive.

Gari jumped out of the trap. Ten comrades dead in a single second—the loss almost broke him. His uniform hung in scorched tatters, blood trickling from his wounds.

"Get reinforcements! I'm going to kill them!" The surviving jonin beside him nodded grimly before disappearing.

Several nobles had returned to the Land of Rain, and Iwa had dispatched three teams to protect them. Gari's group had the most members, and yet they were the first forced to call for help.

The enemies had clearly prepared a trap beforehand. He charged at the villagers, whom he deemed accomplices to this ambush.

Just as he was about to reach them, Shin blocked his way. The younger ninja's stance was relaxed, almost casual—a deliberate taunt.

"Explosion Style: Landmine Fist!"

Boom!

A violent explosion burst from his fist, engulfing the Ame ninja. The blast shook the ground, sending debris flying in all directions.

But as the fire cleared, Gari saw... nothing. No one was in front of him. Not even a trace of blood or fabric.

"Genjutsu?"

Realizing something was amiss, he turned, only to hear the whistle of a blade slicing through the air.

So fast? Body Flicker?

Assuming he had figured out his opponent's technique, Gari focused intensely on the ninja's hand movements. Every proper ninja required hand signs for jutsu, even the Body Flicker.

Thinking he could predict the movement by watching closely, he didn't realize it was all an illusion. Shin was thrilled that Gari had fallen for his deception, standing still to trade attacks directly.

Pride makes such useful bait. Keep watching my hands, jonin.

One slash. Another. Shin's quick footwork and sweeping strikes created a cyclone of sharp cuts. The blade work was deliberately flashy, designed to draw attention while masking the true nature of the attack.

"What?!" Gari gasped. He had been watching his opponent's hands the entire time, seeing no signs of any jutsu.

Where is the attack coming from?

Suspended mid-air, his body spun in a disorienting whirlwind, showering blood.

"Damn!"

Forced into such dire straits by a mere boy from a minor ninja village, Gari was livid. He tore off his tattered armor mid-flight, fired off explosive strikes to right himself, and landed in a backflip.

The moment he touched down, he looked up—only to see Shin slaughtering his remaining comrades.

Two injured chunin, who had barely climbed out of the pit filled with explosive tags, were instantly dispatched by Shin's blade. Their throats opened before they could even cry out, their bodies crumpling like discarded puppets.

A special jonin, trying to delay Shin with an Earth Release jutsu, was caught off-guard as Shin leapt up, launching a counterattack mid-air.

"Earth Style: Mud Wall!" the jonin called desperately, his hands flying through signs.

"Fire Style: Phoenix Flower Jutsu!"

Seeing this, Gari rushed forward, warning his ally to be cautious. Blood dripped from his numerous wounds, each step leaving a bloody trail behind him. Have to warn him... have to coordinate...

"Be careful! He's fast and uses the Body Flicker! Keep your distance and use long-range jutsu!" The other jonin nodded, shifting his stance to prepare for a ranged battle.

Thinking he had offered crucial information, Gari failed to notice Shin's satisfied smile. His warning had just severed his ally's only chance of coordinating a counterattack with him.

As Gari staggered forward, gravely wounded, his vision blurred. The world seemed to spin around him. In the blink of an eye, Shin appeared directly in front of him, stabbing a blade through his heart.

Only then did Gari begin to understand this strange, almost impossible swiftness might not be the Body Flicker.

"What is this tech—" Blood bubbled from his lips, the words dying in his throat.

Shin pressed a finger to his lips. "Don't think too much, just close your eyes." His voice was soft, almost gentle.

The illusion of speed was an art of mental misdirection. While Shisui had truly mastered the Body Flicker, Shin specialized in deception through genjutsu.

As Gari's body slumped to the ground, the battlefield fell silent.