Chapter 77: The Ambush Unleashed

The silence of the night shattered as the rogue ninjas and bandits launched their ambush. The air, once still and calm, now buzzed with deadly intent as the attackers surged from their hidden positions, moving like shadows across the road. The caravan had barely any time to react before the first wave of violence struck.

"Now!" the rogue ninja with the katana hissed, and his comrades leaped into action.

A flash of hand signs, and the night was lit with the glow of D-Class Ninjutsu. One rogue ninja, a fire specialist, spat out a stream of flames—Fire Release: Flame Bullet—that arced towards the front wagon, setting the wooden wheels ablaze. Another ninja, wielding Wind Release: Gale Palm, unleashed a fierce gust of wind, fanning the flames and sending the wagons rocking precariously. The bandits, armed with crude weapons, followed close behind, eager to finish off the terrified caravan members.

A scream tore through the night as one of the merchants, caught off guard, was impaled by a rogue ninja's kunai. Blood sprayed across the dirt road as he crumpled to the ground, lifeless. Another merchant, struggling to extinguish the flames consuming his wagon, was struck down by a bandit wielding a rusty machete. The third casualty, a porter who had tried to flee, didn't get far before a bandit's arrow found its mark, piercing his back with a sickening thud.

Takeda, inside his carriage, felt the first jolt of panic as the screams and chaos outside reached him. His heart raced, and he cursed under his breath. Damn it! They're here! But he quickly pushed the fear aside. This was exactly why he had armed his people. They weren't helpless.

Outside, the remaining caravan members had initially frozen in shock, their eyes wide with terror as they witnessed their comrades fall. But Takeda's training hadn't been for nothing. These weren't ordinary merchants and porters anymore. They were armed, and they knew how to use their weapons.

"Get your guns!" shouted the caravan leader, a burly man with a scarred face who had been hired specifically to keep the group in line. His voice cut through the chaos like a knife. "Shoot! Shoot them down!"

The panic dissipated as the caravan members snapped into action. Shaking hands grabbed for firearms hidden beneath crates and tarps. The dull glint of metal was followed by the sharp clicks of cocking hammers. In the blink of an eye, the tide began to turn.

The first shot rang out, loud and piercing, unlike anything the rogue ninjas and bandits had ever heard. One of the bandits, charging towards a wagon, didn't even have time to register the sound before a bullet tore through his chest, sending him crashing to the ground. Blood pooled around him as his life ebbed away, his eyes wide with disbelief.

A rogue ninja, in the middle of forming hand signs for another jutsu, was the next to fall. A sharp crack split the air, and the ninja's concentration shattered as a bullet punched through his shoulder. He staggered back, clutching the wound, before another shot hit him square in the chest. He crumpled, gasping for breath, his mind racing in confusion. This… this isn't how it's supposed to be…

The caravan guards, emboldened by the effect of their firearms, began to shout to each other, their fear rapidly being replaced by determination. Another volley of gunfire erupted from the caravan, and more bandits fell, their bodies hitting the ground with dull thuds. The rogue ninjas, who had always relied on their superior skills and speed, were suddenly on the defensive.

"Fall back!" the ninja with the katana barked, his confidence shaken. This wasn't the easy pickings they had expected. His eyes darted around, searching for an opening, but every time he moved, another gunshot would force him back. The bandits, who had started the attack with gleeful bloodlust, were now in disarray, their morale crumbling as they saw their comrades fall.

Takeda, watching the scene unfold from within his carriage, couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. His gamble had paid off. The firearms had leveled the playing field, turning what could have been a slaughter into a fierce counterattack. He knew better than to relax just yet—this fight wasn't over—but for the first time, he felt like he had the upper hand.

Outside, the battle raged on, but the momentum had shifted. The caravan members, once cowering in fear, were now on the offensive, their firearms barking with deadly precision. The rogue ninjas and bandits, realizing they had vastly underestimated their targets, began to retreat, desperation in their eyes. But the caravan wasn't about to let them go so easily. They had lost friends, and now it was time for payback.

The night that had started with the promise of easy loot was quickly turning into a nightmare for the attackers. And as the gunfire echoed through the forest, it became clear that the era of invincible ninja might just be coming to an end.

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The aftermath of the battle left the once-serene forest buzzing with chaos. Bandits and rogue ninjas fled in every direction, their escape turning into a haphazard scramble. The victorious caravan team, now high on adrenaline and a sense of triumph, gave chase with guns blazing.

"Get 'em before they slip away!" one of the guards yelled, his enthusiasm almost comically over the top as he took aim. The echoing gunshot found its mark, and a particularly slow-moving bandit hit the ground with a dramatic yelp, clutching his injured leg like he was auditioning for a kabuki play.

Another bandit, limping and cursing his bad luck, tried to sneak into the bushes. Two caravan members spotted him immediately, their eyes gleaming with the thrill of the hunt. "Nice try, buddy!" one of them jeered before they both fired in unison. The bandit dropped with a flair that wouldn't have been out of place in a samurai drama, his life ending in a decidedly undignified heap.

Meanwhile, the rogue ninjas, who were more accustomed to ambushing than being ambushed, weren't about to go down without a fight. One of them, a wiry fellow with a panicked expression, hastily formed hand signs. "Earth Release: Hiding Like a Mole Technique!" he muttered desperately. The ground beneath him shifted, and he vanished into the earth, narrowly avoiding a bullet that whizzed by with a zing sound that could have been straight out of a cartoon.

Another ninja, bleeding and looking slightly frazzled, glanced over his shoulder as the caravan members closed in. "Gotta go fast!" he gasped before activating his technique. "Body Flicker Technique!" With a blur and a faint whooshing sound, he zipped through the trees at lightning speed, leaving his would-be captors gaping at the spot where he had just been.

"Whoa, did anyone else see that?!" one guard blurted out, rubbing his eyes. "I swear, he just went all 'poof!' and disappeared!"

"Focus, moron!" his partner snapped, though even he couldn't help but be a little impressed. "We've got bandits to catch, remember?"

Despite their speed and flashy moves, not all of the enemies were so lucky. The slower ones, weighed down by wounds or the loot they stubbornly clung to, were easy pickings. The caravan team, working with a mix of competence and overzealous enthusiasm, picked them off like ducks at a carnival game. The forest was soon filled with the sporadic sound of gunfire and the occasional overly dramatic cry of a bandit meeting his end.

Watching all of this unfold with a practiced eye, the caravan commander—a grizzled man with a face that looked like it had seen one too many battles—let out a low, warning growl. His men were getting a little too carried away. Sure, the victory was sweet, but he knew better than to let them get sloppy.

"Enough!" the commander barked, his voice booming like a thunderclap. The caravan guards froze mid-chase, their trigger fingers itching for just one more shot.

"Ah, come on, boss!" one of the younger guards whined, his disappointment almost childlike. "We were just getting to the fun part!"

The commander shot him a glare that could have turned him to stone. "You think this is fun? Those bandits could be leading you straight into a trap! You want to lose your head just because you got too eager?"

The guard gulped and quickly shut his mouth, retreating with the rest of the team as they fell back to the safety of the caravan. The commander's instincts were rarely wrong, and none of them were eager to test their luck.

With the battle over, the caravan members regrouped, tending to the wounded and making sure the precious cargo was unharmed. The once lively camp now carried a somber air, with the fires from the earlier skirmish now just smoldering embers.

Inside his luxurious carriage, Takeda Shigenobu was anything but somber. The flamboyant merchant leaned back in his plush seat, tapping his fingers together like an evil mastermind from one of those cheesy ninja flicks. He had heard the sounds of battle quiet down, and now it was time for the debrief.

"Bring in the commander," Takeda ordered with a flourish, as if he was directing a stage play.

The carriage door opened, and the commander entered with a stiff bow, looking every bit like a man who had just been through hell and back. Takeda's eyes gleamed with a mix of curiosity and impatience.

"Well, well, well," Takeda drawled, his voice oozing authority. "I trust you have a thorough report for me, commander?"

The commander straightened up, his face serious as he began to recount the details. "The ambush was successfully repelled, sir. We sustained some losses—five men killed, seven seriously injured, and eleven with minor injuries. However, I'm pleased to report that the goods are all intact. Not a single item was lost or damaged."

Takeda's expression shifted from authoritative to downright gleeful. Five dead, seven seriously hurt, eleven more with scrapes and bruises… but the goods? Perfectly safe. His prized cargo, the real treasure of this whole venture, was untouched.

"Splendid!" Takeda exclaimed, clapping his hands together in delight. "Simply splendid! I knew you were the right man for the job, commander. Minimal losses, and everything important is still in one piece. This couldn't have gone better if I'd written the script myself!"

The commander blinked, slightly taken aback by Takeda's theatrical reaction, but quickly regained his composure. "Yes, sir. The firearms you provided proved invaluable, just as you predicted."

Takeda leaned back in his seat, a self-satisfied smirk spreading across his face. "Of course they did! We're in the age of progress, my dear commander. Why rely on outdated ninja tricks when you've got the firepower of the future in your hands? Remember, innovation is the key to staying ahead."

"Understood, sir," the commander replied with another bow, though the serious expression on his face betrayed a hint of exasperation. "We'll make sure the wounded are taken care of and prepare to move out as soon as possible. We shouldn't stay here any longer than necessary."

"Excellent, excellent!" Takeda said, waving his hand dismissively. "Off you go then. We've got a bright future ahead of us, commander, and I intend to seize it with both hands!"

As the commander exited, Takeda allowed himself a moment to savor the victory. Despite the casualties, the outcome was nearly perfect—no, it was perfect in his eyes. The night had been a triumph, not just over the bandits, but over the old ways. With his cunning and a bit of modern ingenuity, Takeda Shigenobu was poised to lead the charge into a new era, one where even the mightiest ninja would bow before the power of progress.

The chapter closes with Takeda gazing out of the carriage window, his eyes twinkling with ambition, as the moonlight cast a dramatic glow over his face. The caravan would soon be on the move again, leaving behind the remnants of a world that was, in his mind, rapidly becoming obsolete.