"..."
The silence was absolute.
So absolute that it felt dead. Only a faint, high-pitched ringing echoed in the ears, as if the world itself had flatlined.
By the time Might Guy's instincts kicked in and he moved into a battle stance, Hyūga Unkawa had already frozen in a half-crouched, pivoted posture.
His long hair drifted lazily in the air behind him.
Guy stared, stunned, until he heard a soft plop—the sound of blood dripping from Unkawa's hand and splattering onto the ground. Only then did he snap out of it.
"An ambush?!"
Guy's face immediately turned grim. Without hesitation, he vanished from his spot and shot off in the direction the attack had come from.
But when he arrived, there was no one there.
All that remained was a pool of blood—thick, fresh, and violently red—and a severed right arm lying amidst it, cleanly sliced. The bones and muscle fibers were exposed with surgical clarity.
Clearly, Unkawa's thrown kunai hadn't finished the job, but it had taken the attacker's arm and forced a retreat.
Unkawa soon arrived as well. He glanced at the severed limb and then raised his gaze toward the forest's depths.
The trees swayed in the breeze, their shadows broken into strips of light that danced across the ground.
"Did you see who it was?" Guy asked.
There was no blood trail. The attacker had clearly stopped the bleeding in a hurry to avoid leaving a trace.
"No," Unkawa replied, shaking his head. His voice held a hint of regret. "Too fast—I couldn't see clearly."
[Ding! Your lie has been judged as "Feigning Ignorance." Might Guy experienced a surge of emotional resonance. Level: Deep Belief. +300 Reality Points earned.]
Unkawa had always intended to get close to Might Guy.
On one hand, Guy was a late bloomer who would one day almost kick Madara, the Sage of Six Paths, to death—a hidden gem worth investing in.
On the other hand, he was simple-minded and easily swayed by emotion. The perfect battery for gathering Reality Points.
As expected, Guy didn't suspect a thing. He nodded gravely and muttered, "We have to report this to Lord Third. Someone dared to make a move inside the village!"
Suddenly remembering something, he turned to Unkawa, alarmed. "Wait—your hand! You're hurt!"
"It's fine," Unkawa waved it off with a smile, showing him the shallow cut. "That guy's Wind Release wasn't up to par."
[Ding! Your lie...]
In reality, it had been close.
That Wind Release technique was far from amateur. Had he grabbed the blade instead of the hilt, his whole hand might've been gone.
"Phew, that's a relief. Still… unlocking your Byakugan like this counts as a silver lining, huh?"
Guy exhaled, trying to relax, though the weight of that earlier kunai still lingered in his eyes. Even someone as thick-skinned as him was shaken.
What if… the target had been me?
Would I have survived?
He didn't need long to answer himself.
"I would've died," Guy thought, brows furrowed.
Unless he had opened at least one of the Eight Inner Gates, he wouldn't have had time to react. That attack was just too fast, too unexpected.
And no one would ever expect an enemy to strike inside the heart of the village.
Before he could even blink… he'd be dead.
"Unkawa… you're incredible."
Guy placed a heavy hand on his shoulder, awe and admiration shining in his eyes. "Looks like my training isn't enough. Starting today, I'll add five hundred upside-down walks to my routine!"
Even if the Shinigami came swinging a scythe next time, he'd punch his way through.
"Just lucky," Unkawa said, shaking his head with a rueful smile.
No system notification this time.
Clearly, Guy saw that as genuine strength rather than luck.
"Come on," Guy said, his voice low. "Let's treat that wound and report this to Lord Third. Someone's infiltrated the village."
Infiltrator, huh?
Maybe. Or maybe not.
Unkawa glanced down at his now-healed hand, eyes flickering as he recalled the figure he'd seen with his Byakugan.
Who was it?
Hiruzen Sarutobi?
No. He hadn't exposed himself that badly yet.
Then maybe someone from Orochimaru's leftovers—or…
"Shimura Danzo," Unkawa sneered inwardly. "Moving this fast? Tch. Always quick to draw blades on his own people, and useless against outsiders."
Meanwhile, at the edge of the Forest of Death—
A figure cloaked in black flickered from tree to tree using the Body Flicker Technique, stopping only once he was over two kilometers away.
Kneeling on a thick branch, he clutched his bleeding arm.
"Urgh!"
A stifled scream slipped from between gritted teeth, trembling with pain—and fear.
Damn it! Damn it! What just happened!?
He'd waited in ambush for days, precisely where the target frequently trained.
The moment he saw the boy appear, he'd relaxed. The mission was as simple as they come.
He even used the secret Wind Release jutsu—personally taught to him by Lord Danzo, and the one he was most proud of.
But then… the kid stopped mid-step, tilted his head slightly, and activated the Byakugan—a detail the intel had not mentioned.
Even so, he wasn't worried.
He had been cautious, staying at least a kilometer away—outside the Byakugan's usual range—and positioned himself in its blind spot.
He was sure he hadn't been seen.
Until… the kid closed his eyes.
Then raised his hand.
And caught the chakra-laced kunai.
With his bare hand.
With his eyes closed.
And he'd grabbed the hilt, not the blade.
Are you kidding me!?
Branches stretched endlessly through the forest, tangled like a giant net.
Yet through his sensory jutsu, he swore he'd made eye contact—across two kilometers—with eyes like still water.
The next instant, before he could react—
Fwoooosh!
A sharp whistle cut through the air. Then it rained leaves.
Like a gentle spring breeze had sliced through the woods, pruning the trees with surgical grace. Leaves fluttered everywhere, obscuring his vision like scattered shards of glass.
It was… beautiful.
Then came the pain.
Slice.
His arm—his throwing arm—split open. His cloak ripped, his skin bloomed with a red ring.
Blood sprayed. The severed arm thudded to the ground.
That kid caught my jutsu bare-handed—and returned it with interest!
Still trembling atop the tree, the cloaked man could hardly comprehend what had just happened.
The intel had called that boy a failure.
How could a failure do that?
How could trash react like that?
If he's trash…
Then what am I?
"You're slacking off, Kamaitachi."
A cold, gravelly voice cut through the air.
The cloaked man flinched violently.
He looked up to see the familiar shadow looming before him.
Then immediately bowed his head.
"L-Lord Danzo, I—"
"Hmph. Failure," Shimura Danzo snapped, interrupting him with a glance at his missing limb.
This was one of his elite assassins. Normally capable of executing even high-ranking jonin with a single strike—assuming enough prep.
But now?
"You've lost your dominant arm. Useless."
Danzo's shadowed eyes narrowed.
So… the Hyūga brat really isn't as simple as he looks.
Orochimaru must've left something behind inside him.
"Hmph. If Sarutobi dares steal my Wood Release shinobi… then he'd better be ready to lose something, too."