In a small house in the Land of Waves, at the kitchen table, two men were sitting. These two looked completely unlike each other outwardly. Perhaps the only thing they had in common was their attire: black cloaks with red clouds.
The first—a young man with ash-gray hair combed back—was leisurely eating an apple. The guy was sturdy, with a rather handsome face. With one arm, he was hugging a three-bladed scarlet scythe.
"Fucking leader!" the man exclaimed, tossing the apple core out the window. "What the hell are we doing stuck here, huh? Kakuzu, I'm asking you!"
"Shut up..." Kakuzu rasped.
The second man's head was covered by a light gray hood, and the lower part of his face was hidden by a dark mask. His eyes seemed not of this world: green irises without pupils and red sclera; they resembled the pupils of some demon from the underworld.
"What'd you squeak, bitch?"
"Hidan... reminder for idiots, our organization has a contract for elimination..." Kakuzu began explaining.
"Yeah, I remember, I remember," Hidan interrupted. "What, you think I'm a total fucking idiot? Tell me, why the fuck did Itachi and Kisame get sent to take out the targets? And what the fuck are we doing in this shithole? I can't even bring myself to call this ass-end of the world a country."
Kakuzu just pulled a flyer from inside his cloak and laid it on the table, sliding it toward the gray-haired man. The flyer featured a photo of a bald guy with a pretty dumb expression on his face. Below the photo was a list of basic info on the target they'd been contracted to eliminate.
"And they sent four of us after this bald fuck..." Hidan raised an eyebrow. "Fuck, seriously? I'd bring him as an offering to Jashin-sama all by myself!"
"The photo is indeed unflattering," Kakuzu nodded, glancing at the target's face from the corner of his eye. "However, according to the info from the client, this bald guy is nearly SS-rank, equivalent to Kage level. It says his physical strength is almost like the Princess of Slugs, and his speed like the Third Raikage. If it's all true, we've got a serious opponent..."
"Hah," the blood god's priest chuckled. "Don't make me laugh my dick off. I just need a taste of his blood for the ritual—and that fucker's a corpse."
"Don't get cocky. Of the four of us, you're the weakest..."
"But the most resilient and handsome," Hidan parried. "All because I'm blessed by my God. Unlike you heretics..."
"I think Itachi and Kisame will complete the mission, and we won't be needed," Kakuzu continued. "They went out for combat recon, but those two are more than enough to eliminate both the architect and his escort, and our main target."
"So why the fuck are we sitting on our asses here? If they're such hotshots, let them handle it! We can bail to my homeland, the Land of Hot Springs... kill a hundred or two in Jashin's name..."
Kakuzu pondered. Three days ago, Akatsuki got an interesting contract to eliminate one shinobi. The client provided detailed info on the target: photo, height, weight, general profile, and estimated combat stats. The described battle power was hard to believe—if the info was legit, the bald guy was basically Hashirama reincarnated, just with a sparse arsenal of techniques, but otherwise Kage title material right now for his strength.
Kakuzu usually kept tabs on updates in the Bingo Book and scoured private bounties for capturing or killing rogue ninja. He ignored small fry, but grabbed big, feasible contracts, notifying the Leader about new money-making ops as mercenaries when possible. As Akatsuki's treasurer, Kakuzu had near-full access to the organization's resources. His monetary pragmatism suited the Leader fine. He often handled high-profile eliminations himself, distrusting the others. To him, all those targets were just walking money bags—letting cash slip away would be idiotic.
There'd been no prior mentions of this Saitama. Like he'd appeared in the world just a couple weeks ago. But that was impossible. Shinobi with that kind of power were usually well-known. And that he was strong was beyond doubt—no idiot would drop that much money on a nobody. Plus, Akatsuki had already received a third upfront, signaling the client's deadly seriousness and the target's equal danger level.
And Saitama's listed abilities were impressive. Super strength—on par with the world's top taijutsu masters. Super speed—apparently from a unique genome granting a Speed Release. Super durability—likely constant chakra armor on his body. Absolute immunity to poisons. From ninjutsu, only wind element shown, at least one: "Wind Release: Pressure Damage." Moreover, the target was always vigilant with super reflexes—ten prior covert assassination attempts had zero effect. Not a scratch on him...
"You zoning out or some shit?" the Jashinist interrupted Kakuzu's thoughts. "I'm asking, what the fuck are we doing in this hole?"
The treasurer rubbed the crossed-out Hidden Waterfall forehead protector.
"We're here as backup, since the Leader's playing it safe," he explained reluctantly. "Not surprising. Clients don't offer 45 million ryo for some no-name shinobi every day."
"You're all about the cash, you mercenary fuck," Hidan sneered contemptuously.
"Money rules the world," Kakuzu countered. "Your crazy brain can't grasp that simple truth."
"Me, crazy?" Hidan demanded. "Fuck your mother, I'm the most sane in our whole crew!"
Kakuzu skeptically eyed his partner.
"What the fuck you staring at?" the Jashin priest yelled. "Not my fault I'm surrounded by godless heathens. No one gets Jashin's Path! But I don't give a fuck! I'll spread pain, destruction, and my god's will alone!"
Kakuzu let the lunatic's rant go in one ear and out the other.
"We can't risk that money. If we fail, our rep takes a hit. Plus, this Gato's useful too. His funds would come in handy..."
Offering Akatsuki's services to the local mafia tycoon was Kakuzu's idea. Money was never enough. Gato had only hired them to kill old Tazuna. But for some reason, he declined protection services. Probably 'cause the mafia boss was a massive cheapskate, and even at discounted hit prices, Akatsuki quoted big for protecting him and his business. The shipping magnate said he'd think about it, but his eyes screamed how much it pained him to part with his cash.
Sure, offing some architect was peanuts compared to the main target, but with Tazuna came an elite jonin escort. And his head was worth 25 million!
"Doesn't make a lick of sense," Hidan shook his head. "If the org needs fucking money that bad, why not just whack the shortass magnate and steal his stash?"
The treasurer thought hard. His nutjob partner's words had a kernel of truth—Gato's pockets held hundreds of millions, maybe billions.
"Hm..." he drawled. "If word gets out we kill clients, it'll tank our rep..."
"Oh, who gives a fuck?!" Jashin's priest cut in. "Like we're fucking paragons of light and virtue! That little shit'd make a prime offering for Jashin-sama."
Kakuzu scratched his chin thoughtfully, then said:
"I'll ask the Leader. Surprisingly, your idea sounds sane."
"No shit!" Hidan feigned surprise. "They actually listening to me now, fuck."
The guy grabbed another apple. Biting off a huge chunk, he started smacking obnoxiously, grating on Kakuzu's nerves.
"Don't piss me off," Kakuzu growled. "Can't you eat like a normal person?"
"Shut the fuck up," Jashin's priest replied mouth full. "I eat how I eat."
"By the way," Hidan continued, returning to the topic. "If Kisame doesn't smash that bald fuck's face... I'll shove that fucking mace-on-a-stick he carries up his ass and twist it clockwise..."
"You ain't got the strength," Kakuzu snorted. "More like Kisame'd ram Samehada hilt-deep... for your dumb mouth."
"Fuck that kinda fun," Hidan shuddered, apparently picturing it. "I was speaking figuratively anyway..."
Hidan didn't get to clarify, as a crow flew in the open window. Landing on the table, the bird looked around, then a croaking voice burst from its beak:
"Help! Reinforcements!"
The crow vanished in a puff of black smoke.
"What the fuck was that?" Hidan asked, glancing from the table where the bird had dispersed to his partner.
"Moving out," Kakuzu said. Without another word, he leaped out the window; Hidan grabbed his scythe and, cursing wildly, hurried after.
The message was from Itachi. And if he called without the ring, things were bad...
Not long before
"This old man's ours. Out of the way, or you all die..."
The forest outskirts flooded with bloodlust waves that shook the core. The genin tensed. Zabuza's killing intent overwhelmed. But the jonin's pressure, plus illusory death visions, might cripple academy fresh grads; Team Guy were no green rookies. All assumed combat stances, ready to repel the enemy shinobi.
Tazuna's legs buckled; he nearly blacked out. His body shook with tremors—he probably hadn't pissed himself only 'cause he'd hit the bushes recently.
Guy stated firmly:
"Impossible. We have a mission, and we must complete it ASAP. Third Team, execute the plan!"
After the sensei's words, breathing eased; the enemy jonin's bloodlust seemed to recede.
"Yes!" the genin replied in unison.
Lee jumped to his teacher. The others covered the client. Tenten unrolled a scroll and pulled odd pouches; swinging her arm back, she awaited the sensei's signal. Neji activated Byakugan, scanning the Kiri shinobi. Only Tazuna didn't know what to do or where to hide. His home was still far, and no guarantee his village lacked merc ambushes. So the architect froze like a salt pillar.
"Lee, we're in a hurry! Don't hold back..." Guy began. "In the name of the Power of Youth!" he roared, leaping at Zabuza: "Dynamic Entry!"
The Kiri jonin blocked the midair kick with his cleaver but flew back ten meters. Somersaulting, he pushed off the tree Guy sent him into. Battle erupted at insane speeds. The men distanced from the juniors to avoid friendly hits.
The Kiri chunin spread out, encircling the Konoha team.
One mist ninja charged Lee, aiming to skewer him, but the genin was far nimbler. Dodging the thrust, he disarmed the tanto, then appeared behind and stomped the neck. Vertebrae cracked; the chunin flopped like a ragdoll.
The remaining mist ninja exchanged glances and teamed up. This time targeting the architect. A dozen kunai flew at Tazuna, but Neji stepped in front.
"Rotation Technique!" The chakra vortex deflected the projectiles. "Tenten, go!"
The girl nodded; two pouches flew from behind Neji. Hitting ground, they burst gray smoke. The smokescreen ballooned, covering a ten-meter radius. Enemy chunin leaped back, spawning water clones in the veil, then tried flanking.
But Tenten wasn't done. She bombarded the area with smoke bombs, blinding foes. Her teammate had zero issue with the smoke. Young Hyuga's Byakugan stayed active.
Neji charged the nearest mist ninja:
"Piercing Palm!"
The strike ruptured a lung; blood spurted from the mouth. The clone had no clue about the original, as the smokescreen thickened.
"Naive idiots. My Byakugan distinguishes water clones from originals," Neji thought.
Before the body hit, Hyuga dashed to the next.
Rock Lee meanwhile returned to Tenten and the architect. Neji thrived in the smoke like a fish in water—no help needed.
"Three more at nine o'clock!" Hyuga yelled, striking the next foe's tengketsu with Eight Trigrams Thirty-Two Palms.
The girl oriented fast, lobbing smoke bombs and projectiles that way.
Suddenly, their teacher's roar echoed aside:
"You're a worthy opponent. So I won't hold back. Gate of Beginning—open..."
Veins bulged on Guy's forehead; he blitzed the jonin like lightning. Ducking the sword chop, he elbowed the solar plexus—but it was a water clone.
Zabuza appeared behind Guy, aiming to decapitate the Green Beast. Blink—and a wooden log burst in chunks instead. The taijutsu master reappeared before his foe instants later, hand bandages undone.
"Time to end this!" he growled. "Leaf Whirlwind!"
A barrage of kicks hammered the enemy jonin. Despite sword mastery, Zabuza couldn't block. A side kick disarmed the cleaver; a low kick floored him.
"Leaf Hurricane!"
Guy's kick launched the foe airborne, then he leaped and struck again. Midair, bandages whipped around the victim. Encasing the Kiri shinobi in a cocoon, Guy spun him like a top, then slammed him earthward.
"Primary Lotus!" Guy named the technique, eyeing the downed, wheezing shinobi. "You're tough to still be alive. And mostly intact," Might raised a thick brow.
Zabuza shook his head, shaking off daze and body pain.
"Don't move," the Konoha jonin frowned, looming.
Momochi grunted, trying to twitch an arm—but took a gut punch and blacked out.
"I said don't move," Guy said sternly. He turned and strolled back to his students. Main threat neutralized. His genin should handle the rest. If needed, he'd back them up—but no more...
The next chunin trio proved trickier for Third Team than the last. Foes learned, attacking from range. Explosive-tagged kunai nailed Hyuga like they had a sensor. Neji had burned four Rotation Techniques; Byakugan glitched. Genin noted their sensei likely finished—battle noise gone from that side. But irrelevant; relying on him forever stalled genin progress. Chunin exams loomed—this mission tested pro skills and shinobi prowess.
"Two clones at ten o'clock!" Hyuga yelled.
Lee nodded eagerly and charged. Shuriken flew from the smoke at him. Genin dodged effortlessly, leaping aside. He half-closed eyes, relying more on hearing. Clones closed; Rock dispersed them with two precise strikes—splashing water.
Tenten stopped smoke pouches, hurling metal where Neji directed. No hits yet, but soon smoke clears for full engagement.
Whistle.
"Aaah!" Tazuna cried. Deep gash on his cheek.
Neji cursed. He Rotation-deflected the shuriken counter-rain, partly clearing smoke—but meanwhile, a foe clone flung one at Tazuna from the flank. Tenten barely shoved the architect aside, but not fully. Scratch remained. Non-critical, but their fuckup.
"In the Power of Youth, I'll protect my friends and client!" Rock Lee yelled. "Third Gate! Gate of Life—open!"
Genin's skin reddened; green aura flared. Ground cracked under his feet from unleashed power.
"Grrraaah!" Energy raged in Lee; he couldn't hold the roar. "Direct me, Neji!"
Hyuga snapped from shock, pointing enemy spots.
Less than half a minute, chunin done. Lee's energy dispersed his smoke, easy prey. First crushed skull, no retreat. Second felled by Leaf Hurricane. Third Primary Lotus victim. Genin's speed and power multiplied. Even six chunin at once couldn't touch him. Unstoppable.
Rock Lee faced teammates, panting hard. He deactivated Gates. Short use exhausted him.
"You guys did great!" Guy declared, approaching. "Especially you, Lee—I'm proud!"
Lee mustered good-guy pose:
"Sensei, all thanks to you. And the Power of Youth!"
Neji, Byakugan-scanning, jerked his head.
"Enemy jonin!"
"He's down, resting," Guy waved casually.
"No, sensei," Hyuga said alarmed, deactivating dojutsu. "He's gone!"
"Huh? Gone? I just knocked him out!"
Jonin rushed the spot—empty. Guy tsked irritably, returned:
"Slippery bastard!"
"What a pathetic sight," the gray-blue skinned Akatsuki cloaked man sneered. "And this is one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist. Lost to some beast, then his own student drags him off the field. Laughable. And those chunin... what trash. Dropped by snot-nosed brats."
The Uchiha genjutsu projection faded. The crow circling above Third Team's recent battle kept watch from kilometers up, unseen by the mercs below.
"Guy's the taijutsu strongest," the brunette stated flatly. "Despite our warning, Zabuza was doomed from the start. Not sure you can handle Might without me."
"You're underestimating me, Itachi. I'll handle those kids and the defective jonin solo."
"You're too overconfident, Kisame. You rely too much on your sword and chakra reserves. Plus, you have a bad habit—playing with foes. It'll kill you someday."
Kisame just grinned, flashing triangular shark teeth:
"Enough chatter. Wait for the bald guy, then wipe 'em all?"
Uchiha closed eyes briefly. Seemed thoughtful, but he shifted focus to two Konoha tokubetsu jonin fresh on Land of Waves shore.
Itachi shook head:
"No, we go now."
"Wise call," Kisame patted his bandaged sword hilt. "One by one, easy pickings."
"You were incredible, Lee," Neji said, surveying the battlefield.
Their sensei was self-punishing for letting the mist jonin slip. Guy donned weights, squatting one-legged with logs on shoulders. Tenten treated groaning Tazuna.
"Hah, Neji!" genin grinned. "I prepped that move just for you. At the exams, I'll go all out against you!" He pointed and winked—but the good-guy pose strained this time. Gate of Life opening took toll.
Hyuga nodded. Couldn't imagine Lee mastering Heavenly Gates Technique. Few could—that kinjutsu demanded insane conditioning. Neji often dubbed strongest genin, but today Lee earned it. Back in Academy, he saw Rock as comic comic relief chasing strength but capped low. Max lowly genin tail-ender. No gen/ninjutsu crippled shinobi viability. But the talentless kid defied nature, pushed forward, hit insane results for his level...
Today proved fate rewards grit. Rock Lee: genius of hard work. Future peaks unknown, but same pace? Top Konoha shinobi material.
"Maybe that's his fate? Grow strong no matter what..." Neji thought, rubbing his forehead protector hiding Branch family sealing mark.
Architect snapped him out:
"Feeling bad. Vision doubling."
Old man shook head; body tilted. Lost balance, collapsed gasping.
"Tazuna-san!" Tenten cried. Sweat poured; breaths rapid, ragged. Guy dropped logs, rushed client.
"What's wrong?" Might asked.
Girl rummaged medkit for antidote. That shuriken poison delayed action. Good Tenten took iryoninjutsu courses—knew field shinobi poisons/antidotes.
Found vial, poured into Tazuna's throat.
"Delayed-action poison," she told sensei. "Lucky I ID'd by symptoms. Few more minutes—he'd be dead."
Tazuna sank into healing stupor. Home two hours walk, but don't move yet. He'll be immobile awhile.
"Sensei, we need a break," Tenten said.
Guy nodded, helping Neji set temp camp. Strictly no strain for Lee post-Gates.
Rock sprawled near teammate. Emptied water flask. Post-kinjutsu ache; thirst insane. Tenten busy on Tazuna prepping meds. Neji/Guy gathering firewood—no distracting. Nor show weakness.
Architect's backpack handy. Better sip his than beg. Trek to water too taxing now.
Quietly opening, found flask atop. Uncorked, gulped to wet throat. Odd aftertaste, shrugged off. Thirst lingered—another sip. Then more... and more...
***
Read the story months ahead of the public release — early chapters are available on my Patreon: patreon.com/Granulan