As Wakuraba and Mukago completed their grisly task, eliminating all evidence of their true nature while preserving proof of the bounty's completion, Kenji allowed himself a moment of genuine pride in his expanding organization.
Uzushiogakure felt very far away in this moment—not just in distance, but in the fundamental assumptions about reality that defined life within its peaceful barriers. Here, under the uncaring stars, surrounded by the aftermath of demonic violence, he was reminded of the world's true nature.
Power was the only reliable constant. Everything else—friendship, learning, peaceful scholarship—existed only at the sufferance of those with the strength to protect such luxuries.
The Twelve Kizuki would ensure that when the inevitable conflicts came, he would not be found wanting.
As his Lower Moons began the journey back toward the bounty station with their proof of completion, Kenji was reminded that the peaceful scholar of Uzushiogakure was merely one face he wore. Tonight had reminded him of the others—and of the necessity of nurturing them all if he hoped to survive in this world of hidden villages and endless war.
The moon continued its journey across the star-scattered sky, indifferent to the small drama that had played out in the foothills below. But in bounty stations and ninja villages across the continent, the name "Twelve Kizuki" would soon be spoken with a mixture of fear and respect that had not existed before this night.
---
Two days later, the bounty station buzzed with excited whispers and nervous glances as five figures approached the reception desk. Word of their success had already begun to spread through the underground networks that connected hunters, informants, and clients across the continent.
The scarred receptionist looked up from his ledgers, his expression mixing professional satisfaction with genuine amazement. "I'll be damned," he muttered, rising from his chair. "When you five left, I was already composing the letters to notify your next of kin."
Wakuraba placed a sealed scroll on the desk with casual precision. "The contract has been fulfilled according to specifications."
The receptionist opened the scroll with trembling fingers, revealing detailed documentation of Kaito's elimination along with physical proof that left no doubt about the mission's completion. His eyes widened as he studied the evidence.
"How?" he asked quietly. "Three teams of experienced bounty hunters couldn't even get close to this bastard. He was using Lightning Release techniques that—"
"Were insufficient," Mukago interrupted with her characteristic disturbing smile. "His power meant nothing against us."
The man nodded slowly, clearly deciding that some questions were better left unasked. He moved to his strongbox and began counting out payment—stacks of currency that represented more wealth than most bounty hunters saw in years of work.
"The full amount, plus the village's additional reward," he said, placing the money before them. "It seems, soon some High-value clients will be asking specifically for the team that took down the Lightning Devil."
Kenji, still maintaining his shapeshifted appearance as their leader, stepped forward. "I hope you will connect them with us"
"Of course," the receptionist replied, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Aside from this branch, there many other branches of bounty station through out the world. There are countless Missing-nin from the major villages. Criminals that conventional forces have given up on. The sort of targets that come with enough money to buy small countries."
"We will consider such opportunities," Kenji replied diplomatically. "Ensure that potential clients understand our standards—we accept only contracts that match our capabilities."
As they departed the station, Kenji could feel the weight of curious stares following them. Other bounty hunters studied their group with mixtures of respect, envy, and calculation. Word would spread quickly through the network—the Twelve Kizuki had announced themselves to the underworld with unmistakable authority.
---
That evening found them gathered in a secluded hot spring resort, the steam providing natural cover for their conversation while the therapeutic waters helped wash away the residue of their recent hunt. To outside observers, they appeared to be successful hunters relaxing after a profitable contract.
"The reputation is building faster than anticipated," Rui observed, his pale features reflecting satisfaction as he sorted through their earnings. "This single contract has generated more recognition than months of smaller operations."
"Fear and greed are powerful motivators," Kyogai added, his fingers drumming complex patterns against the spring's stone edge.
Wakuraba tested the air currents rising from the heated water, his expression thoughtful. "There is truth in the receptionist's words. I sense the attention of dangerous individuals—those who view our success as either opportunity or threat."
"Let them come," Mukago giggled, her fingers trailing through the water in patterns that suggested barely restrained violence. "Competition makes the hunt more interesting."
Kenji listened to their conversation with approval. His Lower Moons were adapting well to their expanded roles, demonstrating both individual initiative and collective loyalty. The organization was developing its own internal culture, which would serve him well as they faced greater challenges.
"Our next phase requires careful consideration," he said, his voice carrying the weight of absolute authority. "We have established our capabilities to the bounty hunting community. Now we must decide how best to leverage that reputation."
"Expansion?" Rui suggested. "Additional Lower Moons to handle multiple high-value contracts simultaneously?"
"Infrastructure," Kenji countered. "Safe houses, information networks, supply chains. The drums of war require more than skilled warriors."
Kenji's thoughts were already moving toward longer-term considerations. The bounty hunting success was merely a stepping stone toward greater objectives. The real challenges would come when the major hidden villages began taking notice of the Twelve Kizuki's activities.
"We will have to complete some more high level bounties." he decided. "Rui, Kyogai—continue building our operational capabilities. Establish networks in major population centers, recruit informants, secure resources. Wakuraba, Mukago—focus on high-profile contracts that will cement our reputation among those who matter."
"And you, Lord Muzan?" Wakuraba inquired respectfully.
Kenji considered the question carefully. His leave from Uzushiogakure would expire soon, and Master Shikai would expect his return. The advanced sealing techniques he could learn there remained invaluable, particularly given the eventual threats he would face. Yet the Twelve Kizuki required guidance and coordination to reach their full potential.
"I will divide my attention between multiple priorities," he said finally. "The organization must grow, but my own development cannot be neglected. We have many enemies who do not yet know we exist—that advantage will not last forever."
The demons nodded their understanding.
As the night deepened and the hot springs emptied of other guests, Kenji found himself reflecting on the strange duality of his existence. In a few days, he would return to the peaceful scholarly life of Uzushiogakure, studying advanced fuinjutsu and maintaining friendships with his fellow apprentices. Yet here, surrounded by demons of his own creation, he commanded an organization capable of eliminating some of the most dangerous individuals in the ninja world.
Both aspects were necessary. Both served his ultimate objectives.
The moon reached its zenith as the Twelve Kizuki made their final preparations for the next phase of their expansion. In bounty stations across the continent, their name was already being spoken with respect and fear. Soon, that recognition would spread to the hidden villages themselves.
And when the inevitable conflicts began, Kenji would be ready with power sufficient to protect everything he had chosen to value.
The scholar and the demon lord—two faces of the same survival imperative in a world where strength determined all outcomes.