The crescent moon hung high in the night sky, casting its pale glow over the otherwise silent village of Konoha. Yet, shadows flickered across the rooftops—figures leaping swiftly from one building to another. Their distinct attire made it clear: they were Anbu operatives, the village's covert elite.
One by one, they exchanged silent hand signals, relaying information between themselves.
They were in pursuit of something—or someone.
Veigar Koshima, accustomed to waking at four in the morning, found himself at the riverbank on the third day after resigning from his job at the slaughterhouse. This was the usual spot where he set his fishing traps.
Stepping onto the water's surface, he slowly unsheathed the ninjatō strapped to his back, preparing for his daily training.
But then—he froze.
"Who's there?"
An unfamiliar presence had entered his sensory range. The erratic, restless chakra within this person told Veigar one thing—they had just been through a battle.
He spun around swiftly, blade in hand, ready for combat.
Standing on the riverbank was a man—his face obscured beneath a black kasa hat, a single-shoulder bag slung diagonally across his waist.
Upon spotting Veigar, the man warily scanned his surroundings, as if expecting an ambush.
"Who are you?"
Veigar's gaze remained sharp, his grip firm on the hilt of his sword. From the man's labored breathing, he deduced that this person was on the run.
A fugitive? A spy? Or a rogue ninja?
There wasn't enough information to determine his exact identity, but one thing was certain—this man was dangerous.
"Tch. Just your bad luck, kid."
After confirming there were no hidden threats nearby, the man made his decision.
At that moment, the killing intent he had been suppressing erupted. His hands flew into a rapid series of seals.
"Damn it—!"
As soon as Veigar saw the hand signs and felt the suffocating wave of bloodlust, he knew—this man was an enemy.
"Wind Release: Gale Palm!"
A deep, guttural voice carried the jutsu's name as the man completed his seals and unleashed a powerful burst of wind, aimed directly at Veigar.
Despite Gale Palm being only a C-rank technique, Veigar knew better than to take it head-on. He swiftly dodged to the side, simultaneously activating the Clone Jutsu he had prepared in advance.
At the same time, his eyes never left the man, tracking his every movement.
The attack missed.
Without hesitation, the man wove another set of hand seals.
"Wind Release: Vacuum Bullet!"
This time, it was a killing move—one meant to end the fight quickly. A high-speed projectile of compressed air shot toward Veigar's head.
Bang!
But all it struck was a clone.
The man didn't panic. Instead, he swiftly drew a kunai into a reverse grip, his eyes scanning the area for Veigar's true location.
From the way Veigar had effortlessly stood on water, the man knew he wasn't just some helpless child—he was a trained shinobi.
And judging by the ninjatō in his grip, Veigar was a swordsman.
"Ittō-ryū: Iai Slash!"
Veigar had hidden beneath the water's surface, waiting for the perfect moment. He burst out, blade flashing toward the man's heart.
It was his first time using sword techniques in real combat—but that didn't lessen the deadly force of his strike.
Clang—!
Sparks scattered in the night as ninjatō met kunai.
The man blocked the attack but used the momentum to flip backward, putting distance between them.
"Strong. His swordsmanship packs a punch."
"I can't let him get close."
In just one exchange, the man had already analyzed Veigar's combat style, a testament to his vast battle experience.
Even before landing, his hands were already forming seals once more.
"Wind Release: Gale Palm!"
This time, the gust was even stronger than before. Veigar, who had intended to follow up with another attack, was forced to retreat.
The man seized the opening, pulling out three kunai and hurling them at Veigar.
The projectiles cut through the wind, aimed precisely at three vital points. Veigar barely managed to evade them, but he was undeniably on the defensive now.
Even if he wanted to counterattack, he couldn't find an opening.
Meanwhile, in the distance, the Anbu operatives—who had been conducting their search—finally took notice of the battle and began rushing toward Veigar's location.
The man also realized he was running out of time. He had been fleeing from Konoha's Anbu, and stopping here for too long would only ensure his death.
Shff, shff, shff—
Making a split-second decision, he pulled out several shuriken and flung them all at once toward Veigar.
"Kid, I'll admit—you're strong. But I'm still going to kill you."
Veigar had no time to focus on his words. A dozen shuriken shot toward him in quick succession, forcing him further back.
Two of them he failed to dodge completely—one slashed his left forearm, while the other grazed his right thigh.
Landing on the river's surface, he steadied himself, his mind racing. He knew he couldn't afford to go on the offensive.
Right now, his only options were either to escape—saving himself by finding a way to flee or stall for time—hoping the enemy was being pursued and reinforcements would arrive.
The first choice meant his survival depended on his own skill.
The second meant putting his life in the hands of chance—if no one arrived in time, he was dead.
And without knowing that his opponent was already being hunted by the Anbu, choosing to stall was an incredibly risky gamble.
If he guessed wrong—or if help didn't arrive in time—he was as good as dead.
So Veigar chose the first option.
"I have to save myself."
His expression remained calm, but his mind raced for an escape plan.
For a brief moment, neither of them moved. Both sought a way out, watching each other in absolute silence.
Time itself seemed to freeze.
Five seconds later.
Poof!
In an instant, the man vanished.
Only then did Veigar realize—his opponent had been using a clone all along. The real enemy had already disappeared.
At that same moment, a masked figure in a boar-shaped Anbu mask appeared behind him—so fast that Veigar hadn't even sensed the approach.
A kunai pressed against his throat.
"Don't move."
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