Operation: Silent Veil
The fog was thick—denser than usual.
That was no accident.
Kozan crouched on a ridge above the eastern quarter of Kirigakure, overlooking a command post hidden beneath a civilian warehouse. Beneath the surface, four jonin loyal to Yagura operated one of the regime's blacksites—used for torturing suspected bloodline carriers and intercepting rebel communications.
Tonight, it would burn.
But not loudly.
---
Kozan raised his hand. Behind him, five Hunter-nin waited silently—faces hidden, cloaks damp with mist. Each one handpicked by Mei. Each trained for this exact type of mission.
He gave two signals: Split. Circle.
They vanished.
---
The first kill came twenty seconds later.
A perimeter guard stumbled briefly. Then froze. Then fell backward with a blade in his neck.
No one inside noticed.
---
Kozan moved next, slipping between crates, his chakra masked to the point of invisibility. He pressed his fingers to the wooden panel behind the warehouse—a suppression seal etched there. Old-style. Weak.
He disrupted the seal with a pulse of his chakra and slid through.
Inside were four targets: two seated at a table, reviewing scrolls. One pacing. One asleep in the corner.
They were relaxed.
That was their mistake.
---
A glass of tea shattered on the floor. One of the jonin stood.
"What was—"
Kozan dropped from the ceiling. The moment his feet hit the ground, genjutsu flooded the room like a tidal wave—sound disappeared, walls warped, torches dimmed.
He slit the throat of the first target before the second finished drawing breath.
The third reached for a weapon. Too slow.
Kozan's kunai found the space between ribs with surgical precision.
The fourth—still half-asleep—tried to crawl away.
He didn't make it to the door.
---
Outside, the Hunter-nin regrouped silently.
One handed Kozan a scroll. "Interception seals retrieved. Their relay system's down."
Kozan nodded. "Leave the bodies. Don't torch it."
"Message?" the youngest asked.
Kozan knelt and dipped a brush into the fallen jonin's ink pot. On the wall, he wrote in sharp, elegant strokes:
"Your silence feeds us."
Then he turned and vanished into the mist.
---
That night, across Kirigakure, three other blacksites went dark.
By morning, fear began to seep into the loyalist ranks.
They had no idea who was killing them.
Only that the fog had changed.
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