The forest was dense, the mist heavy.
By midday, the primeval woods along the eastern border of the Land of Fire felt even more oppressive. Thick canopies choked the sky, allowing only scattered flecks of light to filter through, dancing across layers of damp, decaying earth.
The air carried the scent of wet soil, faint sweetness from rotting vegetation…
And beneath it all, almost imperceptible—
A trace of killing intent.
Uchiha Shisui crouched on a thick branch several meters above ground, his presence nearly fused with the shadows.
The three tomoe in his Sharingan rotated slowly, capturing every subtle shift in the environment—distortions in light, irregular air currents, even the unnatural tremor of distant leaves.
Behind him, three Uchiha with activated Sharingan and one Hyūga with Byakugan were positioned at optimal intervals.
Perfectly concealed.
Like predators waiting to strike.
They were here.
The Hyūga gave a signal.
Ten o'clock direction. Six hundred meters.
Four Kirigakure shinobi moved cautiously through the undergrowth, their formation loose but deliberate. Every step was measured, every motion disciplined—clearly seasoned scouts.
But under the Byakugan's gaze, their movements, chakra flow, even fleeting glances between them—were laid bare.
Shisui said nothing.
A few subtle hand signals.
The team moved instantly.
Positions shifted.
A perfect kill zone formed.
The Mist squad remained unaware.
Their leader raised a hand, signaling a halt.
His eyes swept the forest, unease creeping in.
Too quiet.
But without a bloodline limit, all he had was instinct.
'Am I overthinking?'
'Still… better be careful. Too many scouts haven't returned lately…'
'Damn it… if our sensory ninja hadn't been taken…'
Just as he prepared to move—
Shisui struck.
"Genjutsu: Sharingan."
His figure appeared from above, dropping from the canopy like a phantom. Crimson eyes locked instantly onto the squad leader.
The man's mind froze.
The world warped—
His consciousness sank.
At the same moment—
Three Uchiha flashed into position.
"Fire Style: Phoenix Flower Claw Crimson!"
"Wind Style: Great Breakthrough!"
"Shuriken Shadow Clone Technique!"
Flaming shuriken screamed through the air, carried by roaring wind, multiplying mid-flight into a storm that sealed every escape.
"Enemy—!"
One Mist shinobi reacted, hands forming seals—
Too late.
Steel tore through flesh.
One was blown off balance—pierced through the chest by burning blades.
Another dodged—only to have his throat slit from behind.
The last fell under precise, predictive strikes guided by the Sharingan.
Seconds.
That was all it took.
The elite scout squad was erased.
Shisui deactivated his Sharingan and stepped forward.
The squad leader still stood, trapped in illusion.
A clean strike ended him.
"Clean up. Gather intel."
His tone was calm.
The Hyūga moved efficiently, searching bodies, collecting scrolls and tools.
He had long since understood his role.
Then—
Shisui looked up.
Movement.
Another squad approached.
Moments later—
Uchiha Inabi arrived, with Hyūga Hizashi at his side.
The two teams met in the faint scent of blood.
"Inabi-senpai."
"Shisui."
Inabi glanced at the corpses, then nodded.
"Ninja cats confirmed it. We sweep from both sides—meet near the Mist camp by evening."
"Understood."
With Byakugan support, survival wasn't the concern.
Efficiency was.
Maps were checked.
Routes confirmed.
"Oh—there are bounty hunters operating nearby. Likely Kakuzu. Ignore them."
"Got it."
A brief exchange.
A shared understanding.
Then—
They vanished again.
Into the forest.
—
Outside Mugen City—
Golden light pierced the fading mist, bathing the towering walls in brilliance.
Before a grand noble estate, four gilded carriages stood in line, drawn by powerful black steeds.
Servants in pristine uniforms waited in silence.
Inside one carriage, the fat noble bowed deeply.
"Yakumi-sama… I leave this to you."
"As expected."
The convoy began to move.
Wheels rolled over stone, steady and heavy.
Under countless watching eyes, they departed the city, heading toward the capital.
The procession stretched long behind them, fading into dust and sunlight.
—
From high above—
At the Ginza tower—
Uchiha Ren watched.
His hand idly stroked the silver-patterned cat in his arms.
"Ah Yan. Shift resource priority to Mugen City."
"Understood, young master."
"Funds, materials, personnel—we'll complete the transition within a week."
Ren nodded, then turned to the black cat on the windowsill.
"The security forces form the backbone of the Volcano and Wind Forest Corps. But numbers must grow."
"Refugees. Orphans. Dissatisfied minor clans."
"…Even Mist bloodline users."
"As you wish."
Both ninja cats departed.
Ren returned to his desk.
Mikoto stepped forward, placing a warm cup of tea beside him.
"Ren."
Her voice was gentle, yet serious.
"Our visible forces are forming. But…"
He already knew.
"Konoha has ANBU. Mist has hunter-nin."
"It's time we establish our own."
"A force loyal only to you."
"Covert operations. Assassination. Intelligence."
"The unseen blade."
Mikoto's expression was firm—almost solemn.
Ren couldn't help but smile.
"My Mikoto."
Her lips parted to speak—
But he stopped her with a hand, brushing gently along her cheek.
"Seeing you think this far… even placing yourself as a tool for loyalty…"
His gaze softened.
"That's my greatest fortune."
"Don't be so serious."
"We're building a future—not writing our last words."
Her tension melted.
A faint blush returned.
"I'm being serious here…"
Her tone carried a soft, teasing firmness.
"I'll consider it," Ren said.
The idea stirred another memory—
A force born in blood.
Later, a protector.
A model worth surpassing.
Mikoto handed him a scroll.
"Candidates."
He skimmed it—
Then paused.
"…Uchiha Hokage?"
He looked up, amused.
"You're recruiting your grandfather too?"
She frowned instantly.
"He asked for it."
"He's more than qualified."
"Reliable. Experienced. Necessary."
Ren was silent.
Then—
"I'll think it over."
He set the scroll aside and glanced at the sun.
"Go rest. Check on Maru."
Mikoto nodded.
"I'll send koro when lunch is ready."
She left.
Silence returned.
Ren exhaled slightly—
Then reached out.
Today's draw.
A hit.
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