Land of Earth — Daimyō's Residence
Under the cover of night, Hanzō crouched in the shadows, quietly surveying the mansion.
"Two samurai at the gate—both roughly jōnin-tier. Inside the walls, guards every ten steps, all at least chūnin-level strength. Even the branches are rigged with alarms; step on them and the whole place will know."
"But that isn't the real problem."
Hanzō lifted his gaze skyward. Nothing was visible, yet his temples throbbed.
"This barrier—that's the troublesome part. It even extends underground. If I try to enter with Earth Style, they'll detect me instantly."
The daimyō of any Great Nation always carried one of the highest bounties on the black market. Naturally, so did their security.
He could simply storm in—but the daimyō would escape. Secret passages, traps designed for Kage-level intruders, compounded with wartime security… a head-on attack gave the target too many chances.
"I used to guard the Land of Rain daimyō myself. No matter what happens, if an intruder breaches the residence, the daimyō is inside the escape tunnel within one minute. The Great Nations would only be stricter."
"I could kill him within that minute… but if they activate another barrier, things get messy."
Last time at the Konoha negotiation, a barrier had trapped him. Even his speed meant nothing against sealing techniques—Konoha had shattered one of his puppeted corpses using the Reverse Tetragram Sealing Jutsu.
If he rushed in and got trapped again, he might break the barrier… but the daimyō would definitely flee. And if the barrier included suicide squads, even he would suffer.
"Well… assassination is what we Ame ninja do best."
"A game of hide-and-seek. It's been a while. Might be fun to play."
"But first, I need to find something."
Blending sage energy into his chakra, Hanzō sent his perception flowing underground.
Though the barrier blocked sensory techniques inside the mansion, everything outside its perimeter fell under his control.
Hours later, he opened his eyes.
"…Found it. That took some effort."
He produced a shadow clone, then walked toward the front gate—the only opening in the sensory barrier.
...
A few moments later, a small gecko-like salamander climbed up the outer wall.
The two samurai at the gate instantly snapped toward it.
"Mountain!"
"Mm."
Two throwing knives shot out, pinning the creature to the wall—where it dissipated into smoke.
"Another probe? They've been getting bolder."
"Third time this week."
But while their attention was captured, a shadow slipped into their blind spot and flattened itself silently against the underside of the gate's crossbeam.
The guards continued their conversation below without realizing death hovered above:
"Report to the interior. At this frequency of scouting, the enemy will move soon."
Hanzō narrowed his eyes.
"Besides me, who else is after the daimyō? Then again… plenty of people would like his head."
Just then, another samurai opened the gate and walked inside. As it closed, Hanzō somersaulted through the narrowing gap, slipping into the mansion without a sound.
"No sensory ninja?"
The moment he entered, he suppressed his chakra entirely, cloaking his body with natural chakra to match ambient fluctuations.
Breath held.
Stillness.
Nothing triggered.
"So the barrier gives them this much confidence…"
Little did Hanzō know: unlike small nations, the Great Nations rarely used shinobi as daimyō bodyguards. Political secrecy ran both ways—daimyō and shinobi villages didn't trust each other. Only the Fire Daimyō, with his Twelve Guardian Ninja, was famous for using ninja openly.
Hanzō watched two patrol units of samurai pass beneath him. Not a single one looked up.
"If even one of you had raised your head…"
He had already scanned a portion of the residence—carefully, so as not to alert any sensory units that might exist.
"The trees in the courtyard are the only viable hiding spots… but every ideal foothold is tagged with explosive seals."
"And these constantly rotating samurai… they're the real problem. Still, their routes are predictable. There is a window."
Hanzō waited.
When the patrols crossed paths again, leaving a blind spot between them, Hanzō moved.
The courtyard flames flickered twice—then settled. Hanzō appeared within the trees as though he'd always been there.
Green chakra shimmered briefly under his feet; the explosive seal fizzled harmlessly.
"Explosive tags? Please. Don't insult me."
"It's been a long time since I relied on pure stealth. Funny… I feel a little tense."
"But this is how real shinobi used to fight—assassination, infiltration… this is the origin of our craft."
The trees flanking the daimyō's sleeping chambers formed a natural ring—decorative for most, perfect cover for Hanzō.
"Two guards at the entrance. They feel like jōnin, but they'll fall instantly. Once I'm in, the daimyō is dead."
"Earth Style should work from here. The barrier seems to trigger only when people enter—not once they're already inside."
"If only these samurai weren't so annoying…"
Eventually, he found his moment and slipped into the ground without a sound.
Not a single guard noticed.
Inside the bedchamber, the daimyō slept peacefully—until a shadow rose silently from the floor.
Moonlight spilled across the room, casting Hanzō's silhouette over the daimyō's face.
"Sweet dreams."
Something felt off.
"No."
The "sleeping" daimyō suddenly whipped out a kunai and struck.
"A ninja."
The bloated body moved far too quickly.
Hanzō dodged, and the figure burst into smoke—revealing a flak-jacketed shinobi.
When did I get exposed!?
…No. This was prepared in advance. The daimyō isn't even living in this room.
Alarms erupted across the compound; samurai rushed toward the chambers.
"Well… if I'm already exposed, I can stop pretending."
"Who are you!? Why attack the daimyō!? You're surrounded—surrender!"
Hanzō snorted.
"You don't even recognize me—I'm not sure if that makes you ignorant… or if my reputation has fallen."
"Regret not dying instantly earlier. From here on… your death will be slow."
"Sage Art: Water Style: Exploding Water Shock Wave."
A torrent of water exploded outward, obliterating the room and smashing through walls.
Hanzō stepped through the surge, scythe in hand.
"Now… where's the real daimyō?"
---
At that moment, across the mansion—
"Enemy sighted! As expected—after days of probing, he finally moved."
A guard hit a switch; a stairwell opened beneath the bed.
"Lord Daimyō, please descend. The intruder slipped into the chamber without a sound—this area is compromised."
The daimyō, trembling, hurried into the escape tunnel.
---
Meanwhile—in a distant mountain
A green-eyed man watched the commotion, furious.
"Who the hell made a move!? I spent a month preparing!"
"This idiot not only ruined the opportunity—he scared the target into lockdown!"
He had planned a perfect assassination for the bounty. Now everything was ruined.
"Since when do bounty hunters take on jobs like this…? Or is this some hidden village's mission?"
He clicked his tongue.
"Whatever. If this moron dies, fine. But if he lives, I'll personally send him to hell."
---
Inside the escape tunnel—
Even without seeing the intruder, the daimyō trembled at the rumbling destruction above.
A samurai narrowed his eyes, sensing chakra.
"Judging from the shockwaves… the enemy is at least elite jōnin level."
"The entire residence may be destroyed. We must escape immediately."
"For your safety, we need to move you to the safehouse outside the compound. Forgive our rudeness."
The samurai hoisted the daimyō and sprinted.
Minutes later—They stopped.
A shadow blocked their path.
The lead samurai broke into a cold sweat.
"H-How… How is this possible…?! That's—! Hanzō of the Salamander!"
"Looks like the main body failed." Hanzō's clone said. "I've seen you before—Land of Iron samurai, yes?"
The man shook, speechless.
"Ah, now I remember. You served under Mifune. The man who died buying time for you all."
"A samurai pledges loyalty to one lord. If you're here, serving the Land of Earth…"
"…You betrayed Mifune. A shame. That man didn't deserve that."
The samurai muttered, panic-stricken:
"No… No! How are you here!? You weren't supposed to—!"
The remaining guards formed up.
"Don't panic. His chakra isn't circulating—this is only a clone!"
"Lord Daimyō, behind us!"
"Attack!"
They charged.
Hanzō drew his scythe.
"Finding this escape route took effort," the clone muttered.
"Didn't expect to actually need the backup plan."
Steel clashed—bright sparks streaked across the tunnel.
The samurai collapsed, heads rolling across the stone.
The daimyō shrieked:
"No—wait! Whatever you want, I can give! Money, land, women—!"
"Oh! Ninjutsu tomes! I keep many in my treasury! Secret Jutsus! They're yours!"
"Please! Spare me!"
A single stroke was all it took.
Blood sprayed across the floor. The daimyō twitched, then went still.
The samurai captain, frozen in shock, fell next.
Hanzō took out a small ledger and flipped it open.
"Let's see… this daimyō is worth quite a lot."
"And this samurai—Land of Iron's defector. A million ryō. Not bad."
"Didn't expect such a convenient bonus. When my real body arrives, this will help with expenses."
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