The three ronin exchanged a final look and stood up simultaneously, vanishing into the treeline.
Watching them leave the camp, young Keita Ida looked up at his father, puzzled. "Father, those three bad n went into the woods, too. Shouldn't we warn the Master Ninja?"
Ryuji Ida pulled his son close, covering the boy's mouth with his palm. "This isn't sothing we interfere with, son. That is the Master Ninja's business."
He's a ninja, child, Ryuji thought grimly. So petty thugs simply cannot see the gap in their own strength. The Master Ninja already spared them once, yet they choose to seek out their own graves.
Inside the forest, the light was dim. The fine rain was blocked by the dense canopy, gathering on broad leaves until it fell in heavy, rhythmic drops.
Shisui Abura leaned against a cedar tree, his eyes closed. Through the feedback of his Kikaichu, he could sense the three n creeping toward him with painstaking caution.
They thought they were being silent, but to the swarm, every snap of a dry twig and every ragged breath was as loud as a drumbeat.
Nakamura led the way, three shuriken clutched between his fingers. They were trophies taken from a Genin they had killed years ago—prized possessions they rarely dared to use. This was the source of their hollow confidence.
Kenta followed a few paces behind, gripping his katana, eyes darting nervously. Ichiro Kurosaki brought up the rear, his hand never leaving his hilt.
"Split up," Ichiro signaled. Nakamura nodded, ducking into the bushes on the right, while Kenta circled left to complete the pincer.
"He's there," Nakamura hissed. "Move!"
As they lunged forward, closing the final five ters, their bodies suddenly jerked and locked. It was as if an invisible force had pinned them to the spot.
Ninja Art: Paralysis Jutsu. Also known as the Binding Glint (Kanashibari no Jutsu). Though officially a D-rank technique, Shisui had modified it into a triple-threat binding of Genjutsu, Ninjutsu, and neurotoxic agents.
Shisui stepped out from behind the tree, a freshly caught wild rabbit dangling from his hand. He looked at the trio with a mild, surprised smile.
"What's the matter, gentlen? Why such terrified expressions?"
Cold dread washed over the trio. Two of them were paralyzed by pure horror, but after a mont of agonizing struggle, one managed to break the ntal bind.
It was Ichiro. But as he regained his movent, his will to fight evaporated completely. The aura coming from the "boy" was identical to the untouchable high-level ninja he had encountered in the past.
"Master Ninja," Ichiro stamred, "we... we just ca out to relieve ourselves and gather so firewood."
"Is that so? I find that hard to believe," Shisui said softly.
He walked over to Nakamura, the pudgy ronin, and produced one of the "chira" insects from his storage. He forced the man's jaw open and dropped the wriggling creature into his mouth.
"You resent , don't you? Because I kicked you earlier. That's why you've been whispering in their ears."
Shisui took the rusted shuriken from Nakamura's frozen hand, inspecting the edges. "You killed a Genin once, and that gave you the courage to try your luck with ?"
Nakamura felt the finger-sized insect crawling down his tongue, sliding into his throat. His body shook with involuntary tremors; a foul-slling liquid began to leak down his trouser leg as his bladder failed.
Shisui simply covered his nose, stepped back, and produced a notebook. He began to observe Nakamura's physical changes, scribbling notes with clinical detachnt.
Soon, Nakamura broke the paralysis—not through skill, but because the sheer agony had triggered a primal surge of adrenaline.
"AAAGH!"
Nakamura collapsed, arching his back and rolling in the mud. Sweat poured from his brow.
His once-pudgy fra began to wither before their eyes, the fat and muscle seemingly sucked inward, while his abdon began to swell into a taut, spherical bulge.
Shisui recorded: Phase 1: Initial surge in physical density/strength, followed by rapid nutrient depletion to facilitate the gestation of new life.
"Enough," Shisui muttered as he finished the entry. Nakamura was now nothing more than a brittle, desiccated husk that looked like it would crumble at a touch.
Shisui stepped forward and crushed the remains. A bloated, distended insect slid out from the cavity of the corpse.
The mother insect was dead; it had exhausted its life force to give birth. Shisui slit the insect's abdon open and extracted several fist-sized, translucent spheres.
They were eggs—five in total—each pulsing with concentrated life energy.
The remaining two ronin watched, paralyzed by a fear so deep it transcended speech.
"Ma... Master Ninja!" Kenta found his voice as the paralysis wore off. He dropped his sword and fell to his knees. "rcy! Please, rcy! It was all Nakamura's idea! He egged us on!"
Ichiro remained on his knees, hands shaking. He realized his mistake—this wasn't a fledgling Genin. This was a monster wearing a boy's skin.
"I won't kill you," Shisui said.
The two n froze, a spark of hope igniting. But Shisui continued: "However, you must do sothing for . Swallow these."
"No! Please, no!"
Kenta, driven mad by fear, tried to scramble away, screaming. He didn't make it three steps before his body locked up again.
Shisui walked over and forced the egg into Kenta's mouth. This ti, the physical transformation was slower. To speed things up, Shisui began weaving hand signs.
Secret Art: Insect Cocoon.
The technique accelerated the reproductive cycle. Kenta's body began to react violently.
At first, his frail fra beca robust—not bulky with muscle, but lean and taut, his bones and tendons hardening. He felt a sudden, intoxicating surge of power, followed by a ravenous, bottomless hunger.
"Power... I feel... I feel so much power!"
Kenta's fear twisted into a cocktail of greed and defiance. Seeing Shisui standing close, he lunged, his legs exploding with speed that rivaled a Chunin. He threw a heavy punch toward Shisui's face.
Thwack.
Shisui caught the fist effortlessly in his palm. With a slight squeeze, he forced Kenta to his knees in agony.
"Decent impact. Comparable to a Chunin. Unfortunately, an egg is just an egg. It makes you stronger only so you can go out and find more nutrients for it to steal."
Shisui took the remaining eggs, neutralized their aggressive "mother" genes, and shoved them all into Kenta's throat.
As expected, the experint repeated. Kenta's body was drained in seconds, his flesh withering as his stomach distended. Finally, the skin split, and a large-bellied white insect crawled out.
The insect had evolved again. The useless weapons and heavy armor of the previous generation had vanished, replaced by a thin, translucent soft shell. It was simpler, more efficient—and purer.
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