29 - How to Kill Your Friends

Although the Land of Stone has the word 'stone' in its name, its main populated regions were covered with loess.

On the other hand, the Land of Earth to the north, despite having 'earth' in its name, predominantly featured rocky landscapes.

This was Masashi's first time coming to the Land of Stone. The reports weren't exaggerating about the atmosphere. Even the air feels heavier here.

Previously, he had only heard about this country's situation.

The country stretched in a curved, elongated shape, bordering the Lands of Earth, Wind, and Rain.

The northern territories are primarily wind-eroded landscapes, arid with little rainfall and vast deserts. The southern parts were loess-covered, with more rainfall, but the loose soil leads to severe erosion—definitely not an ideal environment.

Such was the world of shinobi. Drawing a line across the Lands of Rain, Waterfall, River, and Kusa the further west you go, the harsher it became.

Masashi entered the Land of Stone from the Land of Rain, arriving at one of the rare areas in this country with relatively pleasant conditions. His chakra sensing extended outward, mapping the terrain against the intelligence reports he'd memorized.

Border security is laughable here. Then again, who'd want to invade this wasteland?

This region neither experienced the constant rain of the Land of Rain nor suffered the severe soil erosion of the western territories. The Land of Stone primarily relied on this small area to produce crops.

After entering the first town, he began searching for the rendezvous point, his movements deliberately awkward—just another wandering missing-nin.

Upon arriving in this town, he gained a deeper understanding of why Root looked down on ANBU. Even though they were nominally part of the same group, there were differences.

Both dealt with intelligence gathering, but ANBU enjoyed far superior working conditions. While they did operate abroad, their activities were limited to nations bordering the Land of Fire, which were all allies of the Fire Nation.

This allowed ANBU operatives to freely parkour and show off.

Root, on the other hand, operated in hostile territories. Showboating? That was a surefire way to get yourself killed.

The Land of Stone was a battleground for the Lands of Earth and Wind. Anyone attempting to show off here would either be an Iwa or Suna ninja. Or a dead ninja.

Thus, Masashi refrained from wearing the standard combat attire of a Konoha ninja. Instead, he disguised himself as a rogue ninja, which was a common sight in the Land of Stone.

Dressing as a civilian, oddly enough, might have raised more suspicion.

The contact he was meeting was described as a teahouse owner in the intelligence report.

It was worth mentioning that this was a legitimate teahouse—nothing shady about it.

Masashi quickly found the teahouse, his trained eyes scanning the surroundings. Maybe I can try some tea?

The place was small but bustling.

Patrons could drink tea on-site or buy loose leaves to take home. If the shinobi world had apps, the owner would probably have started a delivery service too.

However, the atmosphere couldn't compare to the shops on Konoha's commercial streets. The natural environment of the Land of Stone was far from comfortable.

Winds blowing from the northwest carried plenty of sand and dust, and spending even a short time outdoors left one looking weathered and dusty.

Entering the teahouse, he removed his cloak and shook off a cloud of dust at the entrance before hanging it on a rack. He then walked to the counter, ordered a cup of hot tea, and found a seat in the hall to wait.

Looking around, the place was filled with customers, though few were ordinary civilians. Most were rough and tough individuals, part of the vibrant underworld community.

The Land of Stone was a country of rogue ninjas without a hidden village. It was overrun with renegades and bounty hunters from various nations, making it a haven for criminal activities and local gangs.

As Masashi observed others, he also found himself scrutinized by the local thugs with unfriendly gazes. Their stares are as subtle as a drunk Inuzuka...

Of course, no one outright confronted him with a "Who are you with?" After all, everyone here was in it for business and knew the value of keeping things peaceful.

Besides, there was no bounty for him in the exchange markets yet. Even if someone wanted to post one, they wouldn't know what he looked like.

Kiri certainly wasn't sharing their intel with the mainland bounty networks.

After a while, a staff member brought Masashi's tea to his table.

Slowly sipping his tea and sitting for a bit longer, he finally went to the counter to settle his bill, paying with currency issued by the Land of Wind. The tea's horrible.

During this process, he had already completed the information exchange with his contact.

As he put his cloak back on and left, the people in the teahouse no longer paid him any attention.

This place is even less pleasant than the Land of Rain, he thought with a sigh before heading to a local inn to rent a room.

He planned to stay here for a few days.

Working for Root wasn't easy, primarily because of the oppressive atmosphere. But being so blatantly scrutinized by weaklings was something he could endure.

---

Over the next few days, Masashi acted like a regular traveler, staying low-key in the town.

On the designated day, he checked out of his room at night and headed to the rendezvous point. Predictably, someone followed him.

With a casual sweep of his sensory abilities, Masashi confirmed that none of his pursuers even had chakra levels comparable to a chunin.

Clearly, his disguise had worked too well—they truly believed he was just a low-level rogue ninja.

Appreciating once again how rare chakra sensing was in the ninja world, he stopped and waited for his followers to appear.

Soon, several bounty hunters surrounded him, emerging from the shadows with exaggerated stealth.

"Just you guys?" Masashi scanned them with his chakra sensing again and confirmed there were no reinforcements. They didn't even bother setting up proper ambush positions.

"First time in the Land of Stone, huh, kid?" The bounty hunters grinned openly. "We're running low on cash, so we'll need to borrow some from you."

He met the leader's eyes for just a fraction of a second.

They always start with that line. What a disappointment. Masashi had hoped for spies or something more interesting, only to encounter this rabble.

The first attacker came low, blade aimed at his knees.

Masashi leaped back, but steel cut into his shoulder—someone had gotten behind him. He grabbed the blade with his bare hand, blood running down his arm as he yanked the attacker forward, throwing him into his companion.

Three more rushed in.

He ducked under a wild swing, sweeping the attacker's legs. As the man fell, Masashi grabbed a handful of dust, flinging it into another's eyes.

The blinded man stumbled back, catching a kunai meant for Masashi with his throat.

The leader hurled a broken branch.

Masashi deflected it with his forearm, but the distraction cost him. A blade sliced through his left hand, taking two fingers with it. Masashi kicked off the ground, backward handspring putting distance between him and his attackers.

Blood dripped from his mutilated hand.

"Not so tough now," the leader growled, signaling his men to spread out.

Masashi pulled a kunai with his good hand.

A thug charged, sword raised high. Masashi feinted left, then drove his kunai up through the man's jaw. Using the dying body as a shield, he pushed forward into another attacker, both of them crashing into a building.

The impact knocked the wind from his lungs.

A blade found his ribs, scraping bone. He twisted, snapping his attacker's wrist and stealing his weapon in one motion. The stolen blade opened the man's throat.

Two down. Four to go.

The leader attacked from above, leaping off the boulder. Masashi rolled, but not fast enough. The sword carved a deep gash across his back.

He staggered, nearly falling.

Another thug rushed in. Masashi grabbed a handful of sand, throwing it up. The man raised his arm to shield his eyes.

Masashi's kick shattered his knee. As the man screamed, Masashi drove a kunai into his chest.

Another thug rushed in.

Masashi grabbed a handful of sand, throwing it up. The man raised his arm to shield his eyes. In that split second, Masashi rushed forward, his front kick ramming into the man's knee with a sickening crack. As the thug screamed, Masashi drove a kunai into his chest.

Before the body hit the ground, a blade struck his shoulder, sinking deep into muscle. He yanked it out, blood spraying, and threw it back in one motion. It took the thrower in the eye.

The leader and his last man attacked together.

Masashi caught a blade between his palms, but the leader's kick sent him sprawling. He rolled to his feet, spitting blood.

"It's over," the leader charged, blade aimed at his enemy's heart.

Masashi tried to dodge, but his injuries had slowed him. The sword drove through his chest, emerging from his back.

Hot blood poured over the leader's hands as he bared his teeth in triumph.

"Why... boss?"

His grin faltered. That voice... The dying face looking up at him wasn't Masashi's—it was Renji, his right-hand man.

The sword he thought had pierced his enemy's chest was buried deep in his heart, just where he believed he'd scored his final victory.

He yanked the blade free, stumbling back.

The bodies around him... Kazuo lay with a deep gash in his shoulder—where he thought he'd wounded Masashi first.

Shin's hand was mangled, missing two fingers.

Each wound matched perfectly: the cracked ribs, the deep back slash, the pierced shoulder. Every injury they thought they were inflicting on Masashi had been carved into his companions instead.

The metallic stench of blood filled his nostrils as reality crashed down. All those triumphant moments, when they thought they were finally wearing their enemy down, landing blow after blow—they had been tearing each other apart, cutting down their own companions one by one.

"Genjutsu is fascinating," a voice came from behind him.

The leader turned slowly. Masashi stood unharmed, Sharingan spinning lazily.

"When did you—"

"The moment you met my eyes. Though I have to admit," Masashi stepped over a fallen body, "I didn't expect you to be quite so... thorough with your own men."

The leader stumbled back, tripping over one of his dead companions. Blood squished beneath his hands as he tried to push himself up. "Please... I didn't—"

Masashi's hand shot out, catching him by the throat. "You wanted a fight. Was this everything you hoped for?"

A swift strike to the throat, and the leader joined his men in death.

Masashi searched their bodies, finding only empty pockets and cheap weapons. What a disappointment.

Leaving the defeated bounty hunters behind, he resumed his journey.

The rendezvous point was a small forest, its trees barely thriving, but it was enough to hide someone. 

He moved silently into the woods, where he sensed a familiar chakra. The teahouse owner was crouching behind a large rock.

Masashi crept up to him and grabbed him by the neck. Time for the verification protocol.

"Don't move! This is a robbery! Fifty thousand ryō minimum, no upper limit!"

"I've got no money, just my life to offer." The teahouse owner was completely unfazed. "Besides, don't stress—it's just a shadow clone. Who carries cash on a shadow clone?"

"A Root agent like you?" Masashi let go and crouched next to him. "Where are the targets?"

"No need for the attitude. Everyone's like me out here," the teahouse owner replied. "Head north, and you'll find a valley. The Hannya Black Ops have been holed up there for ages."

"Is that reliable, or are we walking into a trap?"

"Trust me, we've scoped it out plenty of times. The group aren't that skilled—they just run fast."

"Alright, I'm heading there."

"Wait." The teahouse owner looked desperate. "Got a cigarette?"

"No, I don't smoke."

"You're in this line of work and don't smoke? Are you a rookie?"

"I'm your backup. If Root hadn't paid handsomely, no one would've come to this place. And why would a shadow clone need cigarettes?"

"My wife's strict. I can only smoke using a shadow clone. Also, watch out—the Hannya Black Ops like strapping explosive tags to themselves."

With that, the teahouse owner's clone dissipated in a puff of smoke.

What a guy—more afraid of his wife than enemy shinobi.

---

---

55/100: reached for bonus chapter.

If we somehow reached the top 10, which is so unlikely: 3 chapters/day for 1 week.

p@treon.com/Malphegor

Consider leaving comments and reviews!