The Mist Forest thrummed with violence, the air heavy with the scent of blood and chakra. Nine Genin had Chojuro cornered, their blades gleaming with malice as they closed in for the kill. His strength was fading, his body battered—death was moments away.
Then, a voice sliced through the chaos, calm but edged with mockery. "Ganging up on one guy? That's a bit low, don't you think?"
The attackers froze, their eyes snapping to the source. When they saw Ye Liangnai, leaning casually against a tree, his crimson eyes glinting, their tension melted into scornful laughter.
"Well, look who it is—the dead last!" one sneered. "What, you playing hero now?"
Another waved a kunai, his tone dripping with false mercy. "For your sister's sake, scram. We'll let you live. But if you meddle…" His voice turned cold. "Don't cry when we gut you."
Ye Liangnai's grin was sharp, unyielding. "What if I want to meddle?"
These were easy kills—too tempting to pass up. He wasn't here to save Chojuro; he was here to hunt, to stack bodies and points. Chojuro's plight was just a bonus.
The leader's smirk vanished. "Fine. You're dead."
Four shinobi charged, their blades flashing in the dim light. Four at once—a mocking nod to the "dead last." In their minds, one would've been overkill.
They were wrong.
Ye Liangnai's katana sang, a silver blur that met their assault with terrifying precision. In two seconds, he'd forced all four back, his blade carving a deep gash across one's arm. Blood sprayed, the shinobi stumbling with a gasp.
"That… that speed!" the wounded boy stammered, eyes wide.
Ye Liangnai twirled his katana, his smirk taunting. "What's this? All that big talk, and this is your best?"
"Damn you! Don't get cocky!" the four roared, their faces twisting with rage.
"Water Style: Hidden Mist Jutsu!"
A thick fog rolled in, swallowing Ye Liangnai. Their laughter echoed, cold and menacing. "Feel the fear, dead last!"
Ye Liangnai's eyes rolled, unimpressed. This mist? It was laughably thin, their silhouettes still visible through the haze. "Scary? You're killing me—with boredom."
He leaped forward, his katana flashing. Shlck! A shocked cry rang out as his blade found flesh. "You… you can see me?!" the wounded shinobi gasped.
The other three froze, disbelief crashing over them. Their combined Hidden Mist Jutsu was their trump card. How was it failing?
"This pathetic fog? You call that a jutsu?" Ye Liangnai's voice dripped with disdain. "Let me show you a real Hidden Mist Jutsu."
The air turned frigid, the world plunging into darkness as Ye Liangnai's enhanced mist surged. Vision vanished. Sound warped. The four shinobi's senses were stripped away, leaving only a suffocating void.
Gulp.
One swallowed hard, his kunai trembling in his grip. The silence was oppressive, his own heartbeat a deafening drum. This… this is terrifying.
Ye Liangnai's voice slithered through the mist, chillingly close. "Not so fun, is it?"
The shinobi spun, slashing at the air behind him. Nothing.
"Up front," Ye Liangnai purred.
He thrust forward, kunai piercing empty mist.
"Behind you."
The voice was a devil's taunt. The shinobi whirled again, his blade finding nothing. Panic clawed at his chest, his sanity fraying.
Shlck!
A white-hot blade pierced his heart. His scream choked off, swallowed by the fog.
The remaining three stiffened, their comrade's dying gasp echoing in their ears. "We're under attack!" one stammered, voice cracking.
"Stay sharp—!"
"Too late," Ye Liangnai's voice whispered, a phantom in their minds.
Shlck!
A second shinobi fell, his throat slit clean.
Shlck!
The third collapsed, a blade through his chest before he could react.
The last one bolted, desperation driving his legs. But as he turned—
Shlck!
A silver flash ended him, his body crumpling into the dirt.
The mist cleared, revealing Ye Liangnai standing amid four corpses, his katana dripping blood. His expression was serene, almost bored, as if the slaughter was a morning stroll.
The five remaining attackers froze, their breath catching. Four shinobi—wiped out in under a minute. They hadn't even seen their killer.
In the observation hall, the Jonin spectators sat in stunned silence, the water mirrors reflecting the carnage.
"He… he killed them in seconds," one muttered, eyes wide.
"That mist—it's not normal. He's twisting sound itself," another said, voice tight.
"No Genin could do this. Not even most Chunin," a third added, shaking their head.
The five shinobi snapped out of their shock, their faces pale. Ye Liangnai's grin widened, predatory. "What's wrong? Your buddies weren't much of a challenge."
"Scatter!" one shouted, panic breaking his voice.
They split, fleeing in different directions. Together, they were easy prey—separating was their only chance.
Smart, but not enough.
The moment they broke formation, they attacked. "Water Style: Water Bullet Jutsu!" "Water Style: Water Surge Wave!" "Earth Style: Rising Rock Spears!"
Three unleashed jutsu, torrents and stone spikes tearing toward Ye Liangnai. The other two hurled kunai rigged with explosive tags, their timing perfect—a lethal trap from all angles.
Boom!
An explosion rocked the clearing, flames and debris swallowing the spot where Ye Liangnai stood. The five grinned, triumphant. "Got him!"
"No way he survived that!"
But—
"Careless, aren't you?" Ye Liangnai's voice cut through the smoke, calm and mocking.
Their smiles froze.
"Impossible!" one gasped.
Hawk Flash!
A silver streak sliced the darkness. Blood sprayed, a head rolling into the dirt. The first fell.
Shlck!
The second clutched his throat, blood gushing between his fingers.
Shlck!
The third's heart was pierced, his body crumpling before he could scream.
The fourth fumbled a seal, but Ye Liangnai's blade found his chest first.
The last shinobi stood rooted, his kunai slipping from trembling hands. "It… it was a Water Clone…" he whispered, realization dawning too late.
Shlck!
He joined his comrades in the blood-soaked dirt.
The mist fully cleared, revealing nine bodies sprawled in a grim tableau. Chojuro staggered forward, his wounds stark against his pale skin. He'd been seconds from death.
Then Ye Liangnai arrived—effortless, unstoppable.
"Thank you… for saving me," Chojuro rasped, gratitude trembling in his voice.
Ye Liangnai's laugh was sharp, dismissive. "Save you? Don't kid yourself."
His crimson eyes were cold, each word a blade. "I came to hunt. You were just in the way. If you weren't so weak, I'd have killed you myself. Don't get it twisted—I don't waste time on weaklings."
Chojuro froze, the words cutting deeper than any kunai. His fists clenched, his mind reeling. Was I… really that pathetic?
In the observation hall, the Jonin erupted, their voices a mix of awe and disbelief.
"That Water Clone speed! That swordsmanship—it's unreal!"
"Thirteen kills now. How many more is he planning?!"
A whisper cut through the noise, chilling in its weight. "Wait… you don't think he's like Zabuza, do you? Ready to slaughter them all?"
The name sent a shiver through the room. Years ago, Zabuza Momochi had massacred his entire class—over a hundred Genin—in a single exam, earning his Demon title. Now, Ye Liangnai's ruthless efficiency sparked the same dread.