The Lower Moons dispersed into the night like shadows given form, each carrying their assigned tasks into the broader world. Rui vanished toward the eastern trade routes, his threads already weaving networks of informants and safe houses. Kyogai disappeared into the labyrinthine streets of major population centers, his drums promising chaos for any who opposed the Twelve Kizuki's expansion. Wakuraba took to the skies, his wind-walking carrying him toward distant bounty stations where high-value contracts awaited. Mukago's disturbing giggle echoed briefly before she melted into the darkness, hunting grounds calling to her predatory nature.
As their forms faded beyond his enhanced senses, Kenji allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. The organization was growing beyond his initial expectations, developing its own momentum and culture. Soon, the name Twelve Kizuki would be spoken in the same breath as the legendary Akatsuki of future years.
But tonight's work was not yet finished.
The bounty station's interior felt different upon his return—the same scarred wooden beams and flickering lanterns, but now charged with an undercurrent of respect that hadn't existed before the Lightning Devil's elimination. Other hunters glanced up from their drinks and hushed conversations, their eyes following his movement with mixtures of professional admiration and wariness.
The scarred receptionist looked up from his ledgers, genuine surprise crossing his weathered features. "Back already? Most hunters take at least a week to spend their earnings properly."
"Information," Kenji replied simply, placing a small stack of currency on the desk. "I seek knowledge of a specific target."
The man's eyes sharpened with interest. Currency had a way of focusing attention wonderfully. "What kind of knowledge? And about whom?"
"Kakuzu of Takigakure."
The receptionist's face went pale, his hand freezing halfway to the money. Around them, conversations died as other hunters turned to stare. The name carried weight—and fear.
"Kakuzu..." the man whispered, then glanced around nervously before leaning forward. "You don't want that contract, friend. Trust me on this."
"I'm not interested in the bounty," Kenji clarified, his tone remaining neutral. "I seek information about his current activities and location."
Relief and confusion warred across the receptionist's features. "Just... information? Why would you—" He caught himself, remembering the professional discretion that kept bounty stations in business. "Very well. What I know comes from multiple sources across the network, so accuracy is reasonably assured."
He pulled out a thick, leather-bound ledger and flipped through pages covered in meticulous handwriting. "Kakuzu, formerly of Takigakure's ANBU division. Went rogue approximately fifteen years ago after assassinating the village elders in what appeared to be a contract dispute. The official story claims he was sent to eliminate Hashirama Senju and returned demanding payment despite his obvious failure."
The receptionist paused, studying Kenji's impassive expression. "The unofficial story suggests the village leadership attempted to execute him for the mission's failure, and his response was... definitive."
"Current status?"
"Active across the Land of Fire and Land of Waterfalls. Primary motivation appears to be monetary—he accepts high-value assassination contracts and has developed a reputation for completing them regardless of target difficulty." The man's voice dropped lower. "There are rumors about his techniques. Something involving hearts and elemental manipulation that defies conventional understanding."
Kenji's crimson eyes showed mild interest. The Muzan template's hunger for worthy opponents stirred within him like a caged predator.
"Recent activities?"
The receptionist consulted his notes again. "Three confirmed eliminations in the past month, all high-bounty missing-nin. Latest intelligence suggests he's moved toward Shimogakure—the Hidden Frost Village. Probably following another contract."
"Shimogakure," Kenji repeated thoughtfully.
"Look," the man said earnestly, leaning further forward, "I've seen what you and your team can accomplish. The Lightning Devil was no joke, and you eliminated him like he was a mere genin. But Kakuzu..." He shook his head. "He's been active for over two year having an entire village ANBU on his tails. Survived encounters with village ANBU squads, legendary bounty hunters, even a few minor kage-level shinobi. The man collects hearts like trophies."
"Hearts?"
"Another rumor. Something about stealing the hearts of powerful opponents and incorporating their techniques into his own arsenal. Probably exaggeration, but..." The receptionist gestured helplessly. "The stories about his elemental mastery suggest there might be truth to it."
Kenji absorbed this information with growing anticipation. A warrior who had survived encounters with kage-level opponents, who collected the powers of those he defeated, who operated in the shadows beyond village politics—exactly the kind of challenge he needed to test his growing abilities.
"Would you be interested in taking the bounty?" the receptionist asked hopefully. "The reward is substantial, and honestly, you might be the first team with a real chance of—"
"No." Kenji collected his currency, leaving only a modest amount for the information. "I have no interest in the bounty itself."
The man looked confused but didn't press. Professional discretion had its limits, but survival instincts usually filled the gaps.
As Kenji departed the station, he could feel curious stares following him into the night. Other hunters whispered among themselves, speculating about his interest in the legendary missing-nin. Let them wonder. Soon enough, the truth would be irrelevant.
---
The journey to Shimogakure passed in a blur of supernatural speed. Where his Lower Moons might have required days of travel, Kenji's enhanced physiology allowed him to cover vast distances with minimal rest. He moved through the darkness like a crimson shadow, his form barely visible to any unfortunate enough to glimpse his passage.
The Land of Frost lived up to its name even in late summer. Snow-capped peaks thrust toward star-scattered skies, and the air carried a bite that would have numbed ordinary travelers. For someone enhanced by demonic power, it merely provided a refreshing contrast to the heated battles and negotiations of recent days.
Shimogakure itself proved to be a modest settlement built into the side of a mountain, its structures designed for defense against both weather and invasion. Terraced levels connected by narrow walkways created a maze-like layout that would favor defenders in any conflict. Ice formations provided natural camouflage for guard positions, while the elevation offered commanding views of approaching threats.
Kenji settled onto a rocky outcropping overlooking the village, his enhanced senses extending outward like invisible tendrils. The Muzan template had grown stronger with each challenge overcome, each demonstration of supremacy. What had once allowed him to perceive threats within two kilometers now stretched to encompass five—a radius that covered not just Shimogakure but the surrounding valleys and approaches.
Chakra signatures bloomed in his awareness like candle flames in darkness. The village contained perhaps three dozen inhabitants, most showing the controlled energy patterns of trained shinobi. Several guards patrolled the perimeter, their movements professional but relaxed. No immediate threats detected.
But there—deeper in the mountains, moving with purpose through terrain that would challenge lesser men—a chakra signature that made Kenji's predatory instincts sharpen with anticipation.
The power felt familiar yet alien, as if multiple distinct sources had been artificially bound together. Earth and Water dominated, but Lightning crackled through the mixture like barely contained storm clouds. The signature's owner moved with the confidence of someone accustomed to being the most dangerous presence in any encounter.
Kakuzu.
Kenji's crimson eyes gleamed with satisfaction. The target was not just present but active, probably completing whatever contract had drawn him to this isolated region. Perfect timing for what he had planned.
He rose from his perch and began following the powerful signature, his enhanced physiology allowing him to navigate the treacherous mountain terrain with fluid grace. Snow and ice meant nothing to someone whose cellular structure had been fundamentally altered. Sharp rocks couldn't penetrate skin that had withstood supernatural punishment.
The trail led deeper into the mountains, following paths that suggested intimate familiarity with the region's geography. Whoever Kakuzu was hunting had chosen their hiding place well—remote, defensible, difficult to approach without detection.
After an hour of careful stalking, Kenji found himself observing a scene of recently concluded violence.
A small cabin, half-buried in snow and built to withstand harsh winters, showed signs of explosive penetration. Its walls had been blasted apart by techniques that left distinctive patterns—Earth Release crushing, Water Release erosion, Lightning Release scorching. Whatever resistance had been offered had proven utterly inadequate.
The metallic scent of blood hung heavy in the cold air, though the bodies themselves had already been removed. Professional cleanup, designed to leave evidence for bounty collection while eliminating anything that might implicate the killer.
Kenji's senses detected the lingering traces of Kakuzu's passage—he had departed recently, probably heading toward the nearest bounty station to collect his payment. The trail was fresh enough to follow, cold enough to suggest the target had completed his business and begun the journey back to civilization.
Time to introduce himself properly.