—"Tsk…"—The white-haired ninja clicked his tongue—. "You should feel lucky. Others in your place would already be dead."
The man did not respond. His priority was to get out of there. When he looked up, the ninja had already started walking in the opposite direction.
—"Now get lost. I'll deal with the ones coming,"—said the ninja.
The man said nothing more. He turned on his heels and began to run down the indicated corridor.
As he walked through the dark passages, the rocky walls seemed to close in around him. The tunnel was long, with rough and narrow walls. The echo of his own steps resonated around him, and with it, the echo of the slaughter still rang in his mind.
—A labyrinth of death.—
Minutes passed in the gloom. Every so often, he passed forgotten corpses. Some were old, skeletons covered in dust. Others were fresh.
The minutes went by. He counted mentally until he reached ten. Then he saw something: the stone door, hidden among rubble.
—"The secret exit."—The man approached cautiously, feeling along the right wall until he found what he was looking for: a small hidden slot.
He inserted his fingers and pulled; a deep rumble echoed in the rock… and the door began to slide slowly to the side.
A cold, damp air seeped from the other side. At last, he had found the exit. The man slipped through it without hesitation, crossed the threshold—he had managed to escape.
The outside world welcomed him with a dark sky. He was in a dense forest, full of tall trees and twisted roots. There was no time to rest. He needed to move.
But before he could take a step… he heard something, the echo of screams and the sound of bones piercing flesh. He turned on instinct.
In the distance, back at the complex, the white-haired ninja faced a new group of ninjas dressed like the bodies he had seen on his way to the secret exit.
There, in the darkness, the white-haired ninja continued his path… toward more blood.
Because of that brief distraction, a new group of ninjas had managed to reach the man.
This time, the enemies wore headbands with the symbol of two rocks together. Ninjas of the Hidden Rock Village.
The ninjas prepared themselves when they saw the massacre surrounding them.
The man did not know much about this world, but he understood what he was seeing.
The white-haired ninja was not fighting. He was butchering.
—"How bothersome,"—said the white-haired ninja as he swiftly positioned himself between the man and the ninjas before him.
Bones emerged from his back, his fingers transforming into bony daggers. The screams of the ninjas were drowned in their own blood.
The man did not wait to watch the massacre. He observed the scene for an instant, but then, without a word, he turned and vanished among the trees, continuing his path without any direction.
He had seen enough death for today. This was not his battle. Not yet.
This world… this world of ninjas, war, and blood… was not so different from his past life, for in it death also lurked in the darkness and in broad daylight. You could not live peacefully, nor sleep in peace, because death was always there.
After a few minutes walking, the only thing that accompanied him was each gust of wind whistling through the leaves. Each breaking branch sounded like thunder in the silence. The moon barely illuminated the dark forest due to the towering trees surrounding it.
The man advanced slowly, each step calculated, his body still aching from the escape. His mind was a storm of thoughts, but there was no time to process it all.
The only clear thing was that he was being hunted. The voices came before he could see them.
—"Damn it… where is that bastard?"—growled a deep voice, just a few meters away.
The man froze and held his breath, instinctively pressing against the trunk of a tree.
—"I don't know, but he couldn't have gone far,"—answered another, younger voice—. "They say Orochimaru's experiments don't last long without their medicine."
—Medicine?—
Silently, he peeked through the bushes.
There were three men dressed the same as those in the tunnel: dark clothing, combat vests, and metal headbands with a symbol of two rocks together.
Their eyes scanned the area attentively. They were searching for him.
—What happened to the other one? The one with the bones? Did they kill him?—
The man, with doubts filling his mind, could not allow these men to raise the alarm that they had found him—that would mean more ninjas coming after him.
He moved slowly, stepping only where the leaves were softer, where the ground would not betray his stealth.
One of the ninjas separated from the group, moving a few meters away as he inspected behind some bushes.
That ninja was his target. The man slid after him like a shadow, step by step, until he was close enough to strike.
There were no words. Only action.
In a swift motion, he covered the ninja's mouth with one hand and with the other drove the sharp bone into his neck.
A precise stab; he felt the skin, muscles, and trachea give way under the pressure. Hot blood drenched his hand.
The ninja tried to struggle, but his movements turned spasmodic, weak. His eyes blurred. When the body stopped shaking, the assassin laid it carefully on the ground.
—One less.—
The other two noticed nothing. They kept talking to each other. They were close together, and approaching was dangerous.
Even so, he moved fluidly through the bushes until positioning himself behind another tree. In his hand, now he held a kunai, taken from the corpse of the ninja he had just executed.
He took a breath. Aimed. And with great precision, he threw the kunai.
The weapon cut through the air with a whistle and embedded itself in the second ninja's neck. The ninja choked on his own blood and fell to his knees. The third barely had time to turn before the man was already upon him.
A brief struggle, a quick twist, and a knife sinking into the ninja's heart was all it took to finish the last of them.
And then… silence. It was over.
The man breathed deeply and looked at the corpses. He could not stay in the area for long. He quickly grabbed some of their clothes, covering himself with a light vest to protect from the cold. Some kunai, shuriken, and smoke bombs—now he was better prepared.
But this forest… it had more dangers than just ninjas. The crunch of leaves alerted him.
He spun immediately, his body reacting before his mind. Something was stalking him.
Among the trees, just a few meters away, a pair of eyes glowed in the darkness.
Exposed fangs, a low and threatening growl—it was a predator. Looking closer, the man had no doubt what he was seeing… a huge wolf, larger than any he had ever seen in his past life. Its fur was black as night, muscles defined under its skin.
The assassin did not hesitate. He moved the instant the beast leapt, rolling to the side, dodging the attack by mere inches. The creature landed with a heavy thud and spun immediately, lunging again with a ferocious roar.
This time, the assassin was better armed. He raised the kunai and drove it into the eye.
The wolf's scream echoed through the forest. The creature staggered, shaking its head furiously, but the assassin gave it no time to react.
The sharp bone he carried in his hand went straight to the throat. A spasm and a final growl were the last signs of life it gave before death.
The man caught his breath. But he was not alone yet—he heard more movement in the bushes and saw more eyes glowing in the darkness. Slowly, through the undergrowth, more wolves approached.
—Shit…—
The man could not fight them all. Not in this state. As a quick escape measure, he took one of the smoke bombs and threw it to the ground.
The growls and barks faded into the distance. He had survived.
For now.