Sogetsu stood on the calmed sea, right hand lifted.
His fingers were around Ishikawa's throat.
Moments ago the man had roared and rained fire. Now he hung like a dead fish.
"I—I remember… Mizukage said… the Uchiha eye beyond three tomoe…" Ishikawa rasped, eyes rolling. "Mangekyō…?"
"Congratulations." Sogetsu smiled. "You're the first to see it."
Ishikawa bared bloody teeth. "We're Mist. Even dying—we make it count." He ripped open a scroll; a sealed jutsu shot free as a swordfish of chakra, knifing into the depths to carry a message home.
"Enjoy the manhunt, Uchiha—Kirigakure will hunt you to the ends—"
Crack. Sogetsu's fingers closed. The body went slack and slid into the waves.
White Zetsu rose through the surface like a ghost. "Lord Sogetsu, I don't get it. Why use Susanoo on a small fry? Even with the First Hokage's cells to offset the cost, you'll give away your position."
"When," Sogetsu asked lightly, "did I say I was hiding?"
"Huh… I guess you didn't." White Zetsu hunched. "Should I chase that message? It might expose that you have Mangekyō."
"You mean this message?" Sogetsu turned a twin scroll between his fingers.
"Ohh—genjutsu swap. As expected of Lord Sogetsu." White Zetsu giggled.
It bobbed up holding the blasted blade. "Your spoils, my lord—Shibuki. One of the Seven."
"Trash. Toss it."
"…Then can I have it?"
"Knock yourself out."
White Zetsu hugged the weapon like a new toy. Sogetsu stepped across the water, gaze toward the faint line of coast.
"Your mission was 'secret infiltration,' wasn't it?" White Zetsu asked. "Making a mess will only—"
"You misheard." Sogetsu's lenses flashed. "The Hokage said: make a scene."
As if answering, text rippled across his inner sight:
Side Mission: Raise a Ruckus
A proper Spectator directs the era's stage. It's your script now—stir the war until it moves as you will.
Reward: Adult Mind-Dragon brain ×1; Adult Mind-Dragon blood 500 ml
Elsewhere on the sea, shapes flickered into being.
"Last traces of Ishikawa are here," said a bandaged man, sniffing the air. "Killer's chakra is heavy. Left ten minutes ago."
"And Shibuki?" asked a pony-tailed shinobi.
"Taken, obviously," croaked a straw-haired reed of a man.
A fat one clicked his tongue. "Shouldn't have let him in. Waste of space."
"He was filler at best," the bandaged one hissed. "But we will retrieve Shibuki."
The youngest—blue hair spearing the sky—bared his teeth. "Let him see what the Seven Ninja Swordsmen really are."
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