The perimeter of the laboratory.
Several figures flashed through the snow.
"The sensory barrier has been broken."
"Move quickly!"
The voice of the Kumogakure ANBU squad leader sounded exceptionally cold in the snowstorm.
Six figures slipped inside rapidly, like ghosts.
Their objective was clear: infiltrate the core area, seize the chemical data, and then destroy this place.
As reserve members of the Raikage's personal guard, they had absolute confidence in their skills.
To them, the defensive force of rogue ninjas in this border country was no different from paper.
However, the moment they stepped through the laboratory gates...
Clack, clack, clack—
The previously pitch-black corridor suddenly lit up, illuminating the place like broad daylight.
"We've been discovered?"
"Attack!"
Since the infiltration failed, they would crush them head-on!
The Kumogakure captain gave a low shout, an electric light erupting from his body as he charged straight inside.
His ninja sword, wreathed in lightning capable of cutting through steel, slashed fiercely at the guard in the front.
In his view, a ninja from a small country of this caliber would be charred in two within the next second.
However.
Clang!
A sound of metal clashing rang out.
There was no expected gore.
The guard was actually holding a long sword, forcefully parrying his ninja sword coated in Lightning Release chakra!
You have to know, his ninja sword contained a certain amount of chakra metal!
The Kumogakure captain's pupils constricted sharply.
And it wasn't just a matter of weapons.
He could feel that the opponent was not only on par with him, a Kumogakure elite, in terms of strength, but the eyes looking at him also held—excitement!
That fanatical look was like a hungry wolf seeing fresh meat, or a gambler seeing their chips.
What he didn't know was that in the eyes of these guards, he wasn't a formidable enemy at all.
He was a walking, high-value—point reward!
"Get lost!"
The Kumogakure captain was, after all, the elite of the elite, and his combat experience was far beyond that of an average guard.
Even if they were matched in strength and weapons, he was superior in combat techniques and experience.
He kicked the guard in front of him away, but before he could catch his breath, more guards surged in like a tide.
A dozen fully armed guards surrounded them from all directions.
At this moment, the Kumogakure captain discovered with horror that each of these guards possessed robust physical fitness and astonishing reaction speeds.
Even more terrifying was the madness, as if each of them disregarded their own life.
Pfft.
A Kumogakure ninja had finally managed to pierce a guard's thigh with a kunai, thinking it would restrict the opponent's movement.
As it turned out, the guard didn't even glance at the wound.
Under the effect of the White Zetsu cells, the granulation tissue at the wound writhed frantically, stopping the bleeding in a few seconds.
Immediately after, the guard grinned and backhanded his blade into the Kumogakure ninja's abdomen, choosing to trade injury for injury.
"Is this—the enhancement serum from the intel?"
The Kumogakure captain watched his subordinates retreating steadily, a chill rising in his heart.
This level of physical fitness was already fully comparable to a tokubetsu jonin specializing in taijutsu!
And this was just a mass-produced soldier?
"Damn it!"
"What kind of monsters are these!"
Deep within the laboratory, in the surveillance room.
Orochimaru held a cup of hot coffee, watching the slaughter on the screen with interest, his golden pupils filled with amusement.
"As expected of the elite of Kumogakure, these mass-produced soldiers are still lacking when facing them."
"Although the Type I soldiers have met the standards in physical fitness, their combat techniques are still too rough."
Yakushi Kabuto, standing to the side, pushed up his glasses while rapidly recording data.
"After all, they are just quick-made products."
"They've been injected with the serum for less than a month and haven't had enough time to train their combat skills."
"However, the combat data is perfect."
"The recovery and strength amplification have met expectations."
"Lord Orochimaru, should we send the Type II soldiers?" Kabuto asked.
Orochimaru sipped his coffee and shook his head.
"No need."
"The cleaners have arrived."
On the battlefield.
Although the Kumogakure squad was blocked, relying on their rich combat experience and the lethality of Lightning Release, they were gradually gaining the upper hand.
"Don't get entangled with these lunatics!"
"Concentrate and break through at one point!"
The Kumogakure captain kicked a guard away and formed hand seals with both hands, preparing to release a large-scale Lightning Release to clear the area.
Just then.
"Ten-Finger Drilling Bullets."
A cold voice rang out.
Pfft, pfft, pfft—
Several bone bullets tore through the air.
Except for the captain, who possessed the strength of an elite jonin and barely blocked the attack with his ninja sword, the other Kumogakure members didn't even have time to react before being precisely headshot by the bone bullets.
Five corpses slumped to the ground almost simultaneously, blood staining the floor red.
"Who?"
The Kumogakure captain's hair stood on end, and he looked around in terror.
However, before he could make any more moves, a bone-chilling cold struck from behind.
Pfft.
A sharp bone spur had already stabbed in from his back, piercing through his chest and protruding from his front.
The Kumogakure captain looked down in disbelief, watching the stark white bone spur stained with his own blood, the light in his eyes fading rapidly.
The corpse slid down, revealing the teenager in a white combat suit behind him.
Kimimaro expressionlessly shook the blood off the bone spur, his eyes cold.
The Kumogakure elites, who had been trading blows with the mass-produced guards just moments ago, were like paper tigers before him, wiped out in an instant.
"Withdraw, dispose of the bodies."
Kimimaro ordered indifferently.
Just then, the communicator on his ear rang.
"Lord Kimimaro, this is the Intelligence Division."
"We just received a report from the urban area that someone is openly inciting rebellion in a tavern."
"The other party seems organized and premeditated."
"Please lead a team to suppress them immediately!"
Kimimaro's eyes turned cold instantly.
Just finished killing foreign enemies, and now there's an inside traitor at home?
He turned around and looked at the members of the security force who had just arrived behind him.
"Everyone, follow me."
"Go and clean up that bunch of death-seeking rebels."
In the tavern's private room.
The atmosphere had dropped to freezing.
Asama Sandayu slumped in his chair, looking at his former subordinates who were willing to bear the infamy just to draw a line with him.
His eyes were filled with despair and disbelief.
"You—how could you do this—"
"For that tiny bit of so-called points—have you even thrown away your dignity?"
The supervisor who had pressed the report button took a deep breath, stood up, and spoke in a cold, hard tone.
"Lord Sandayu, dignity won't fill your stomach."
"And I don't think there's anything shameful about working for that lord."
"At least, he treats us like people."
Just then.
Boom!
The door to the private room was kicked into pieces from the outside.
Amidst the flying wood splinters, a thick smell of blood mixed with the cold wind poured in.
"Who dares to disrespect Lord Naruto!"
Kimimaro shouted sternly, his killing intent instantly locking onto everyone in the private room.
However.
When he saw the scene before him, his usually emotionless, cold face froze for the first time in years.
There was no elite force as imagined.
No skilled assassins.
Before him was only an old man, Sandayu, who had been so scared he slid off his chair, his crotch already soaked.
And—Princess Koyuki Kazahana, who was huddled in the corner, shivering, with a confused look on her face.
Kimimaro was silent.
The security team members behind him, who had been sharpening their blades and preparing for a slaughter to earn points, were also silent.
Kimimaro's gaze swept back and forth across the private room twice, seemingly searching for even one enemy who looked like they had a shred of combat power.
But unfortunately, there were none.
A full two seconds passed.
He slowly turned his head, pointed at this group of the old, weak, sick, and disabled, and asked the intelligence officer behind him.
"Is this what you called—an extremely dangerous coup?"
The subordinate wiped away cold sweat and lowered his head awkwardly.
"Uh—reporting, my lord, although there are only a few people—"
"But hearing them from outside, their slogans were indeed quite loud."