Swish— Swish— Swish—
The dense canopy trembled as three figures darted between the branches, leaves rustling in their wake.
Shukudō's fingers twitched, his lips curling into a smirk as he prepared to form the Tiger Seal—ready to detonate the "Heavenly Net" trap they had laid.
But Umino Yoru seized his wrist, pointing urgently.
"Look at their headbands!"
The figures caught in their trap weren't Sunagakure shinobi—they were Konoha Intelligence operatives.
"Our people?!"
Shukudō's hands trembled, the chakra in his seals nearly destabilizing from shock. If not for the need to maintain focus, he might've accidentally triggered the trap right then.
Wiping cold sweat from his brow, he shuddered at the thought—had Yoru not stopped him, he would've blown up their own allies.
These three wore animal masks and tactical green vests—not standard ANBU or border patrol gear.
"Intel squad?" Shukudō's eyes gleamed with realization.
If Suna was chasing them this deep into Konoha territory…
Whatever they're carrying must be high-value.
This wasn't just a rescue—this was an A-rank (or even S-rank) mission in the making.
Promotion to Chūnin?
Protection for his family's weapon business?
All within reach.
But then—
Wait.
How had Yoru known they were allies before seeing them?
Had he received intel beforehand?
Now that he thought about it, the captain had been acting strangely before the mission. And he had insisted on marking the trap zone with Konoha's emergency evasion sigils—three kunai arranged in a triangle.
Before he could ponder further, the three Konoha operatives spotted the markings.
The two at the rear—Eagle and Cat Mask—barely reacted, their strides unwavering.
But the one in front—Monkey Mask—froze for a split second, his breath hitching.
"Damn it!" Yoru nearly tore his hair out.
What kind of intel operative was this?!
Even a fresh Genin knew better than to break character in enemy territory.
"Is this idiot a spy from Iwagakure?!"
In the Five Great Nations, only Iwa's intel teams were sloppy enough to field such incompetence.
And of course—
The Suna pursuers, seasoned veterans, noticed the slip instantly.
Their leader—a Suna Jōnin—raised a fist, halting his squad just before the trap's kill zone.
"Abort ambush. Execute Plan B."
Yoru's fingers flicked up—two raised.
"Detonate."
Shukudō's hands slammed together—Tiger Seal!
BOOM—!
Seventy-two explosive tags erupted at once.
The forest turned into an inferno, trees splintering into charred fragments as shockwaves rippled outward.
Even the Suna-nin at the periphery—avoiding the blast core—were scorched by the heatwave, their hair and cloaks singed.
"Holy hell…" one gasped.
"Only Konoha would waste this many tags on one trap!"
Had they stepped a meter further, they'd be paste.
Yoru's "Radar Technique" swept the battlefield.
Not a clean wipe—but the goal was achieved.
The Suna squad was scattered, disoriented.
Perfect.
In one fluid motion, Yoru yanked a scroll from Shukudō's belt—his teammate already gripping the other end.
A tug—seal release!
"Fūma Shuriken!"
Two monstrous steel windmill blades—taller than a man, weighing over 50 kg each—materialized in their hands.
Shukudō grunted, veins bulging as he hefted his.
Yoru?
Effortless.
With his chakra control, wielding this behemoth was like swinging a kunai.
"Now."
As the flames roared—
"Hah—!"
They hurled the blades, the weapons whirling like sawblades, carving through burning trees mid-flight.
The shriek of metal drowned out the explosions.
One aimed for the Suna Jōnin.
The other—
The puppeteer.
At the last second, the puppeteer's hands flashed—
"Kugutsu Kawarimi no Jutsu!" (Puppet Substitution Technique)
"Rat—Snake—Tiger!"
CRACK!
The Fūma Shuriken shattered the puppet into splinters—
While the puppeteer teleported five meters away, unharmed.
"Tch." Yoru narrowed his eyes.
A Jōnin-level puppeteer.
Losing a puppet was like losing an arm—but this one was still dangerous.
And now—
The real fight began.