Was the captain of that Mist squad kicked in the head by a donkey?
No... no matter how stupid a captain was, not every single jōnin under him could have been kicked by the same donkey, right?
Unless… Mist's true intent wasn't to simply station one squad for interception and another for the supply raid.
Could it be they planned to ambush Konoha's support forces first, then regroup and overwhelm the supply transfer station together?
That would explain this bizarre deployment.
The way they'd set up around Lion Head Mountain was telling. If Uchiha Gen hadn't scouted ahead and made a wide detour, even a slight deviation in his route would have run them straight into that trap.
So Mist's aim was likely this, wipe out Konoha's support squad, then turn and smash the supply station in one strike, crippling the entire logistics line.
Ambitious. Greedy.
"Tch… how infuriating."
Of course, Gen wasn't some god who could foresee their every plan. Even with his foresight and instincts, he couldn't have imagined that Mist's true primary objective in this elaborate move was him. Everything else such as the ambush, the supply raid was secondary.
A full clash of forces didn't scare him. But most of his Konoha comrades? They wouldn't survive such a battle.
So the answer was obvious, bleed the enemy first. Shave down their strength, then bring his well rested squad and the defenders at the supply station straight into Mist's weakened flank. That way, victory was assured with fewer Konoha casualties.
But then again… why share?
Merit could wait. What mattered more was what Mist was offering him; ten jōnin souls, twenty specialists and chūnin, a prime nourishment for his power.
In a fair one-against-thirty fight, even he would struggle without exposing trump cards. But now? The enemy was exposed, scattered, and oblivious, while he lurked in the dark. The perfect hunting ground.
With that thought, Gen's soul, floating high above Lion Head Mountain, dove like a meteor then plunging into the western earth below.
Mist might have sensory-nin among their ranks, and souls carried chakra traces. But by burrowing deep underground, masked within the dense earth, he minimized the risk of detection.
The translucent spirit body cut swiftly through packed soil, guided by memory. He surfaced silently through the trunk of an old cypress tree.
On the canopy, a Mist shinobi peered through binoculars, scouting the mountain pass.
Suddenly, his pupils contracted, body stiffened. Terror flashed across his face then vanished. His body relaxed unnaturally.
He hopped down, slapped a hand against the trunk, and chakra surged. Strange black marks appeared on the bark—Gen's Flying Thunder God seal.
Back on the branch, Gen used the man's hands to weave hand seals. A shadow clone puffed into existence beside him. Without hesitation, the clone drew a kunai from the pouch and slit the original's throat.
Blood fountained. The shinobi's eyes widened in disbelief, unable to process what had happened before death took him.
In that instant, Gen's soul slipped free, diving back into the roots of the tree. The corpse tumbled from the branches, blood dripping down onto leaves and soil. The clone burst into smoke with its master's death.
One kill, clean and silent.
Then another.
And another.
Gen repeated the cycle with surgical precision; targeting only those isolated, their chakra masked by rock, trunk, or terrain. Each kill was disguised as an assassination, his Flying Thunder God marks planted on the bodies for later use.
He didn't want Konoha's higher-ups discovering he had mastered the Spirit Transformation Technique, not yet. The Flying Thunder God seals would let his squad clean up easily and polish his reputation further.
Because wiping out an enhanced Mist squad with ten jōnin, alone, even with assassinations, was an achievement that would shake the entire shinobi world.
Worth noting, every kill so far was either a jōnin or specialist. No chūnin. Mist's deployment explained why; jōnin and specialists were spread alone to monitor zones, while chūnin patrolled in pairs.
True sensory-nin were rare, and elites rarer still. Mist wouldn't risk deploying their most prized sensory assets on this kind of operation. On this front, their sensory capacity was limited.
Fuguki Suikazan had been forced to send even his two best sensory-nin deep behind enemy lines. The rest were mediocre. That's why Mangetsu and Magetsu had arranged human spotters across the ridges. Binoculars for sight, sound signals for coordination.
It was simple but effective, once Konoha's squad was spotted, a whistle-signal would pass node by node until it reached the commander. Orders would echo back the same way, and by the time Konoha arrived, Mist would be in position.
Reasonable and Effective.
But ironically, their dispersed formation had given Uchiha Gen his chance.
If they'd stayed together, even he would've been hard-pressed to act without being noticed.
But scattered? They were prey waiting for the hunter.
Time trickled on.
At last, the two sensory-nin began their scheduled scan. Their expressions froze.
"…What?!"
"Ten chakra signatures... gone?"
Kunihiko's face paled.
"Captain, I might be mistaken…"
Mangetsu, crouched behind stone, stiffened. "Ten?!" He snapped to the other sensory-nin. "Junichi—confirm."
"Yes, Captain!"
Hand seals flashed. Chakra surged. A moment later, Junichi's eyes went grim.
"Captain… it's true. Ten signatures, erased."
There were only three explanations: concealment beyond their detection, moving outside range, or death.
But these were elite Mist shinobi. They wouldn't abandon posts. They weren't hiding from their own.
That left only one conclusion.
Mangetsu's expression hardened. They hadn't even touched Konoha yet and ten of their own were already gone.
Infuriating.
But Mangetsu was no greenhorn. He exhaled, steadying his fury, and issued orders with iron calm.
"A Konoha specialist in stealth and assassination has infiltrated our lines."
"Signal immediate assembly."
He paused. "No... first, pull nearby units together. No one alone. Then assemble as one."
"Yes, Captain!"
The two sensory-nin obeyed, each firing a flare.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Twin trails streaked skyward, exploding into brilliant blue and red. The sparks merged into a sigil that burned for three breaths before dispersing.
Across the mountainside, Mist shinobi began converging on the signal, tightening into groups before rushing toward the assembly point.
Deep underground, Uchiha Gen paused mid-hunt, perceiving the sudden convergence. Then he smiled faintly.
"So… they've noticed."
His soul shimmered.
"Good. Let's get serious."
After all... if no one was left alive, what was there to expose?