236-So That's What Happened?

As Renjiro stood there, surrounded by a ring of men, the air was thick with tension, heavy like the moments before a storm. His eyes, ever sharp and vigilant, flickered between each of the figures encircling him.

In his mind, Renjiro could already see how this confrontation would end. He was pondering what moves he would make as a predatory smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

One of the men stepped forward, his voice cutting through the silence. "Stop acting tough. You're surrounded." His tone was smug, almost mocking, but there was an underlying edge of caution.

The man who spoke was tall, muscular, and his headband—though scratched and battered—bore the symbol of the Hidden Mist Village. From his dressing to his equipment, Renjiro could tell that he was no mere shinobi but a rogue shinobi.

'A rogue shinobi,' Renjiro mused, glancing over the man's gear, his smirk widening ever so slightly.

'This isn't a random ambush.'

Renjiro's voice was calm, almost bored, as he responded, "Is that so?" His tone was devoid of fear.

Behind the veil of his nonchalance, Renjiro's mind worked at a lightning pace. His chakra field expanded invisibly around him, his senses tingling as they fed him information. His heightened awareness told him everything he needed to know.

'Three jounin-level chakra signatures... and seventeen chunin,' he noted.

Renjiro's thoughts raced back to the events that led him here. After completing his first mission earlier that day, he had sensed a group tailing him.

At first, he hadn't been certain, wondering if they had picked up on his trail after the mission or if there was a spy within Konoha leaking information.

His brow furrowed slightly as he recalled the odd feeling he had after the fourth mission—when his stalkers had disappeared, only to reappear after the seventh.

'Did they follow me from the village, or do they have someone feeding them information?' he pondered.

 Still, he had decided not to engage them until they made the first move. And now, here they were, surrounding him, clearly underestimating the threat he posed.

Takao, the leader of the group, watched Renjiro with sharp eyes. His expression shifted from confidence to alarm as he felt Renjiro's chakra field brush over him.

The sudden awareness of Renjiro's sheer presence sent a cold shiver down his spine. This wasn't just some newly promoted jounin.

"Now!" Takao barked, his voice tight with urgency. "Attack him! Don't give him any time to counter!"

The seventeen chunins sprang into action, leaping forward with a speed and precision honed through years of training. Kunai and shuriken sliced through the air, and bursts of elemental jutsu followed, the ground shaking as they closed in on Renjiro from all sides.

Takao had no intention of wasting time. 'We've got enough power to take down a newly promoted jounin, even if he is a bit powerful, but we can't afford to drag this out. Konoha shinobi are crafty bastards,' he thought bitterly, his eyes narrowing as he prepared to join the fray.

But Renjiro was already prepared. His smirk deepened as his hands flashed through a series of hand seals. "Thunder Clap Jutsu," he murmured.

"Boom!"

There was a deafening crack like a lightning strike that reverberated through the clearing. The air around Renjiro crackled with raw energy as the jutsu activated.

A blinding flash of light erupted from his hands, accompanied by a wave of electrical energy that rippled outward, striking the advancing chunins. The air smelled sharply of ozone, the ground vibrating with the sheer force of the technique.

The chunin's bodies seized up instantly, paralyzed by the surge of electricity coursing through their muscles. Their weapons clattered to the ground as their limbs stiffened, their faces frozen in shock.

Renjiro wasted no time. In a blur of motion, he closed the distance between himself and the nearest chunin. His kunai flashed, a swift, deadly arc through the air. Four of the paralyzed chunin fell before they even had a chance to recover, their blood staining the ground in dark pools.

'The paralysis doesn't last long,'

Renjiro noted as he glanced at the remaining chunin, who were already shaking off the effects of his jutsu. Still, the damage was done. He could see it in Takao's eyes—the rogue shinobi had underestimated him.

Takao's heart raced as he watched four of his chunin fall in mere seconds. His mind scrambled to reassess the situation.

'This guy's no newly promoted jounin,' Takao realized, his throat tightening.

'He's far stronger than we thought.'

"Attack him! All at once!" Takao shouted, his voice tinged with desperation.

The other two jounin in Takao's group sprang into action, joining the remaining chunin as they launched themselves at Renjiro in a coordinated assault.

Fire, wind, and earth jutsus combined into a deadly barrage, the air shimmering with the sheer force of their attacks. They were trying to overwhelm him with numbers and power.

But Renjiro was faster. With fluid grace, he weaved through the barrage of attacks, dodging each strike with an almost casual ease. His movements were so swift, so precise, that it seemed as though he was predicting their attacks before they even happened. Yet his Sharingan was not even active.

Takao gritted his teeth as he watched, his frustration mounting.

'He's toying with us!' he thought bitterly.

Every time one of his men came close, Renjiro would simply sidestep the blow, his expression never changing, as if this was all some sort of game to him.

Renjiro, meanwhile, moved like a predator among prey, his kunai flashing as he cut down the remaining chunin one by one. Lightning crackled around his body as he unleashed a series of lightning jutsu, each one striking with pinpoint accuracy.

When the dust finally settled, only Takao and his two jounin remained standing. The clearing was littered with the bodies of their fallen comrades, the ground scorched and torn from the intensity of the battle.

Renjiro dusted off his hands, a look of satisfaction crossing his face.

"Alright," he said, his voice calm, almost conversational. "I think I've seen enough. We're done here."

Takao and the two jounin stared at him, confusion etched across their faces. They couldn't understand what he was talking about. Done? What did he mean?

'What is he talking abo—' Takao's thought was cut short as he felt something cold wash over him. His body froze, his breath catching in his throat.

Renjiro's Sharingan glowed a deep crimson, and Takao could see it clear as day. It wasn't just a simple genjutsu. No, this was something far more powerful, far more terrifying.

Takao wasn't the only one who realized it. The two jounin beside him froze as well, their bodies locked in place as Renjiro's genjutsu took hold. They could do nothing but watch as Renjiro approached them, calm and collected, his kunai glinting in the pale light.

Renjiro moved with deliberate slowness, almost as if savouring the moment. He stood in front of Takao first, his expression unreadable. Then, in one swift motion, he slit the rogue shinobi's throat. Blood poured from the wound, but Takao's body remained frozen in the genjutsu, his mind trapped in a waking nightmare.

Renjiro repeated the process with the other two jounin, his movements precise and emotionless. When he was done, he stepped back and surveyed the carnage with a satisfied smirk.

---

Takao was kneeling before Renjiro, his throat still bleeding as he died. Renjiro's hand rested calmly on his head, his expression cold and detached.

"So that's what happened," Renjiro muttered to himself, his Sharingan still active.

The other nineteen shinobi were all still alive, their bodies lying in the exact positions they had been in before the battle began.

It was as if nothing had changed—except for the fact that Takao and his men were already dead in every sense of the word. And the tomoes in his Sharingan were four instead of the normal three.

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