Chapter 24 – Life in the ANBU (Part 2)
Gensaburō felt like the unluckiest man alive.
He had an unreliable clan leader, who had given him an unreliable mission, to meet with an unreliable informant in Konoha. For a profession like shinobi—where secrecy meant survival—one weak link could be fatal. Three in a row? That was like roasting him alive over a fire.
But Gensaburō had no choice. The system and training of Kirigakure left him no room to defy his superiors' orders.
"Wind Release: Vacuum Wave!"
Standing atop a lamppost, Shimura Yū unleashed his Wind Release. A razor-sharp wind blade sliced through the air, sweeping toward him.
Seeing the technique closing in, Gensaburō sprinted while weaving hand seals. Just as the wind blade was about to strike his back, his right hand slammed down onto the ground, releasing an enormous Water Release technique.
"Water Release: Great Exploding Water Colliding Wave!"
This was one of Kisame Hoshigaki's signature jutsu in the original story—a nearly omnidirectional water attack, perfect for when surrounded. Its power depended entirely on the amount of chakra poured into it. In the hands of a "tailed beast in human form" like Kisame, it could practically create a small lake.
Ren's gaze sharpened as the massive wave surged across the street. To use an A-rank jutsu like this… this spy was no ordinary infiltrator. At the very least, a chūnin—more likely a jōnin.
Even the drunken Konoha shinobi nearby sobered up at the sight of the water sweeping through the street. This spy had to be taken down—and if the ANBU caught him, the credit would be shared by all who helped.
In an instant, shadows in the dark leapt into motion, each forming hand seals.
Secret Technique: Shadow Imitation Jutsu!
Earth Release: Earth Flow Divide!
Fire Release: Phoenix Sage Fire Technique!
Various jutsu traced brilliant arcs through the night sky, all converging on the samurai-armored Gensaburō. Realizing he had no way out, Gensaburō gritted his teeth and, just before the shadow-binding reached him, used a technique with a terrible cost.
Forbidden Technique: Burrowing Boar Charge!
In a blink, Gensaburō vanished.
Ren was the fastest to react. He flashed to the spot where Gensaburō had disappeared and stomped on the ground—it was perfectly intact, yet the man was simply gone.
"Any tracking or sensory ninja here?" Ren called out to the assembled Konoha shinobi.
They exchanged glances until, finally, a member of the Inuzuka clan stepped forward.
"I can try," he said. "But I've never seen this kind of technique before… I'm not sure I can track him."
Ren gave a quick nod for him to begin.
The Inuzuka clan shinobi stepped forward, first summoning his ninken, then inhaling deeply.
Secret Technique — Scent Lock-On!
"I've got him!" Inuzuka Kaku's face lit up for a brief moment before darkening again. He glanced toward the outskirts of the village. "But he's moving fast—almost as fast as the Body Flicker!"
Ren's eyes narrowed. "Can you make me see his trail as well? I'll take the lead."
Without wasting words, Kaku pinched a strand of "scent" only visible to him, holding it before Ren. "Breathe it in."
Ren complied—and instantly, the trail became visible to him as well.
Beneath the expressionless mask of Hannya, a cruel smile formed. Without a word to his two teammates, Ren formed a quick seal and flickered away in pursuit.
It wasn't that he didn't want to wait—it was that neither Yorumizu nor Shimura Yū could match the speed of him or their quarry, Gensaburō. Among everyone present, Ren was the only one who could hope to catch up.
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A kilometer away, Gensaburō emerged from the earth, breathing heavily. The underground charge had taken its toll—he was injured.
Damn this mission! Damn Hōzuki! And damn Danzō!
Cursing under his breath, he calmed himself, swallowed a soldier pill, and began trudging toward the border of the Land of Fire. The contact never showed, the ANBU had found him—how could anyone blame him for this failure?
He began stripping off the battered Iron Country samurai armor when the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
Something was wrong.
Konoha's hunter was here.
Style Two — Yokozuna!
At the edge of death, instinct took over. Without a single hand sign, wickedly sharp poisonous spines erupted from his back.
Ren's eyes narrowed—an instantaneous technique, no chakra buildup.
Secret Art — Fugu Spine Slash!
In that heartbeat, Ren's blade—which had been aimed for the neck—shifted to a vertical cut, shearing off the entire spine of venomous quills. Blood spattered onto the forest floor, but Gensaburō's life was spared.
If Ren had wanted him dead, the strike would have ended it. But poison users were common enough in the shinobi world, and antidote experts like Tsunade were rare. He wouldn't gamble his life for the sake of a faster kill.
Better to live than earn empty glory.
Ren's beautiful eyes now held only cold killing intent. This spy wasn't just any missing-nin—his reflexes, his jutsu repertoire—he had to be from one of the great shinobi clans.
Gensaburō drew his katana, his gaze dull as he faced the masked ANBU. The Hannya mask… the one who had pushed him this far.
"You're… the White Fang?" he asked. Mist Village intel was full of tales about Konoha's blade master, Hatake Sakumo. But then he noticed—the blade wasn't a short tantō. This was a perfect, mid-length sword.
Why was Gensaburō still looking at his weapon in this moment of life and death? Because in Kirigakure, the culture of swords ran deep. It was no coincidence they had the Seven Ninja Swordsmen.
Ren ignored his rambling and swiftly formed seals.
Water Style — Violent Water Wave!
With his chakra nearly spent, Gensaburō still managed to raise a Earth Style — Earth Flow Wall in time to block.
The heavy wall hid his form completely. Ren didn't move—his stance was loose, ready. He was waiting.
"You didn't expect this, Konoha dog!"
With a sudden roar of laughter, Gensaburō burst from behind the wall, katana spinning in a wide, gleaming arc—like the light of a full moon.
But Ren's eyes showed only disinterest.
With forty years of swordsmanship passed down from Mifune himself, he had already calculated Gensaburō's every step. In ninjutsu, Gensaburō might have stood a chance—but in kenjutsu? He wasn't even worthy to carry Ren's sword.
First Form — Iaijutsu.
The blade flashed and returned to its scabbard in a single, perfect motion—more radiant than the full moon's light. The arc of steel continued past Gensaburō's neck, cleaving through towering trees before fading.
Behind him, Gensaburō fell to his knees. His head slid from his shoulders. Blood erupted from the neck in a desperate, final fountain.