Shisui Abura wiped away any trace of his presence by the waterfall.
After replenishing the Aero-Bugs with water, he once again took his seat upon the insect cloud and flew toward the valley where the bandits had been spotted.
In less than ten minutes, he was hovering directly above the stronghold.
Technically, this territory belonged to the Land of Grass, but due to the outbreak of war and the constantly shifting front lines, it had beco a lawless "no-man 's-land." This vacuum had allowed a massive surge of banditry to take root.
From his vantage point, Shisui looked down at the rolling hills. Between the sparse patches of forest, he could occasionally spot abandoned villages.
The stench of decay was heavy here: charred houses, barren fields, and scorched earth pits were visible everywhere.
Shisui didn't waste ti on sentint. He simply shook his head and watched with cold indifference as he followed the mountain path upward.
Soon, he spotted two sentries at the gate. They weren't physically imposing, their clothes were tattered, and they gripped rusted katanas—clear signs that life in the hills was far from prosperous.
Further inside, the scene was a cacophony of noise. A crowd of n sat in groups, drinking cheap sake and gnawing on dry rations.
Only the burly leaders at the center had a few plates of at set before them. These leaders were dressed better; specifically, the three in the middle wore grey-brown tactical vests.
Though they lacked forehead protectors, Shisui could sense them clearly: they were shinobi, with chakra signatures at or above the Chunin level.
Based on their appearance and habits, they were likely Hidden Stone (Iwagakure) ninja—though whether they were on a mission or had defected was unclear.
It didn't matter to him. Right now, he just needed high-quality prey to satisfy his swarm.
Shisui spread his arms, and the ravenous insects erupted from his sleeves, cascading downward like a literal waterfall of hunger.
Any shinobi who survives on the battlefield possesses animalistic intuition. The three leading rogues sensed Shisui's presence instantly.
"Enemy attack!" the Stone rogue in the center bellowed, his hands blurring through three signs. A stone wall slamd upward from the earth.
However, the swarm didn't crash into the obstacle. Instead, it split into three currents: one served as a frontal feint to draw their attention, while the other two hugged the ground, flanking the leaders from their visual blind spots.
As for the ordinary bandits, they were already being subrged in a tide of grey.
"Watch out!" the rogue on the left shouted.
The words had barely left his mouth when he felt a sudden numbness in his leg. Looking down, he saw the grey insects already swarming up his calf, gnawing through his skin and muscle with terrifying speed to reveal the bone beneath.
They moved with impossible efficiency, eating their way up his body.
"Aaaagh!"
He scread, trying to swat them away, but the swarm quickly engulfed his arms as well.
The rogue on the right reacted faster. He used a Body Flicker to retreat ten ters while weaving signs: "Earth Style: Mud Shrapnel!"
Fist-sized chunks of rock tore toward the swarm and Shisui's position, but they were swatted aside by a spinning wall of insects acting as a high-speed shield.
Before the rogue could transition to his next jutsu, a Ghost Scorpion appeared behind him, its stinger piercing through his chest from back to front.
The leader in the center was the strongest. He didn't flee blindly or attack in a panic; he observed the battlefield with icy calm.
After three seconds, he made a cold assessnt: the enemy was too powerful to fight. His only chance was escape.
He hurled several explosive tags to blast a hole in the swarm's periter and turned to bolt, showing zero regard for his dying comrades.
However, he had only taken a few steps before his vision blurred and his limbs turned to lead. From the sky, Shisui watched him collapse.
His hands remained in a steady seal, directing the swarm to subrge the final survivor.
The battle ended in forty seconds.
When the last Erosion Bug flew back into Shisui's sleeve, there wasn't a single living soul left in the stronghold.
Forty-eight bandits and three rogues had been reduced to polished skeletons, frozen in their final poses. The returning swarm humd with a deep, vibrating contentnt, signaling their satiety.
Shisui didn't land imdiately. He sent the Sensory Bugs to sweep every inch of the camp first. They crawled through every wooden shack and dark corner, relaying information back to him.
A minute later, he had the layout: The stronghold was divided into two sections. The front was the living area, containing the warehouse, kitchen, and wine cellar.
The back consisted of the dungeon and a storage room for "trophies." The warehouse held stolen goods—fabrics, grain, dicinal herbs, and so silver vessels. Not high value, but sufficient for his needs.
And in the dungeon... There were survivors.
Shisui landed before the heavy wooden door of the prison, which was locked with thick iron chains. He didn't bother with a key; the Erosion Bugs simply chewed through the lock chanism.
The door creaked open.
The stench of rot hit him instantly. In the dim light of flickering torches, he saw the cells. On the left were seven people: four won and three youths.
They were dressed in rags, their bodies covered in wounds, and their eyes were hollow.
Up close, the faint sll of death hung over them; though their hearts were still beating, their spirits had long since flickered out.
The right side was a torture chamber. Implents were scattered across the floor, and rotting corpses hung from the walls—likely the caravan guards.
In the corner were four shinobi. They wore Hidden Waterfall (Takigakure) forehead protectors. Their breath was shallow, but they were still alive.
The eldest, a Chunin, had been subjected to the "human pillar" torture—his limbs had been hacked off, leaving only his torso and head.
The wounds were unbandaged, infected, and oozing pus, emitting a nauseating stench.
The other three were Genin, no older than fifteen or sixteen. Their bodies were maps of abuse; clearly, the Stone ninja had been trying to extract information or jutsu from them.
They were likely part of a small Takigakure rchant house that had hired cheap, local ninja to save money, only to be intercepted by a superior force.
Shisui had seen this a thousand tis. Even in eras of relative peace, such tragedies were common. In warti, they were daily occurrences. He couldn't bla anyone; it was simply a matter of bad luck and insufficient strength.
Shisui released his bugs, intending to grant them a rciful end, when he noticed that one of the three boys bore a physical resemblance to himself.
He leaned in closer. Despite the injuries on the boy's face, the features were largely intact.
A thought struck Shisui. Instead of trying to create a new identity from thin air with no background or history, why not take soone else's? To step into another man's life and let the na "Shisui Abura" vanish forever from the world... that was the perfect escape.
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