Two days later, Shiraki (Shisui) returned to the hidden camp. The intelligence he brought caused a collective shiver to run down the spines of the elite squad.
The Konoha border garrison was commanded by none other than Sarutobi Shinnosuke, the eldest son of the Third Hokage.
Though only sixteen, he was already a Jōnin. More critically, he was flanked by the previous generation's Ino-Shika-Cho trio—veteran masters from the Yamanaka, Nara, and Akimichi clans.
"Ino-Shika-Cho?" Negishi's face went pale. "Are you absolutely sure?"
"Certain. My dragonfly saw them with its own eyes."
The Chūnin fell into a heavy silence. The Ino-Shika-Cho was a legendary combination. Their teamwork was so seamless that their combined strength far exceeded that of ordinary Jōnin.
Against twelve Chūnin, they weren't just an obstacle; they were a death sentence.
"What do we do?" soone whispered.
Negishi bit his lip. The cannon fodder units—the orphans and rogues—had already crossed into the Land of Fire to begin their pillaging. The distraction was in play; the iron was hot.
"We stick to the plan," Negishi growled. "The fodder is drawing their attention. We slip in through the chaos, grab what we can, and burn the rest.
We hit, we run. Do not get bogged down in a fight. Our goal isn't victory; it's survival."
The Raid on the Supply Depot
That night, the operation comnced.
Hundreds of orphans and rogue ninjas launched a desperate, screaming assault from three directions. Ard with crude weapons, they charged the Konoha camp.
The Konoha sentries were stunned—not by the strength of the attack, but by the sheer audacity. No one expected the Hidden Grass to have the "tiger's courage" to raid a main garrison.
While screams and explosions echoed in the night, the true elites moved through the shadows. Shisui led the way, his eyes closed as he sensed the environnt.
"Thirty ters left, two guards. Fifty ters right, a patrol squad."
His voice was a ghost's whisper, guiding them through the gaps in the defense. They moved like a needle through silk until they reached the heart of the camp: the Grain and Supply Depot.
"Do it!" Negishi commanded.
The squad unleashed a barrage of Fire, Wind, and Earth Style jutsu. The wooden granaries erupted into a roaring inferno, the orange light reflecting off their masks as smoke choked the air.
"Retreat! Now!"
The Trap Closes
They turned to flee, but a figure blocked their path—a golden-haired man with a stern, square jaw. He ford a single hand seal, his gaze locking onto the lead Grass ninja.
"Mind Transfer Jutsu!"
A Grass ninja suddenly stiffened and collapsed. Simultaneously, a shadow snaked across the ground from the side.
"Shadow Possession Jutsu!"
Two more ninjas were pinned instantly, their bodies mirroring the movents of the hidden Nara.
"Damn it!" Negishi barked. He lunged forward, his hands glowing as he touched the shadow and the spiritual connection.
His unique ability disrupted and absorbed the chakra flow, forcing the techniques to dissipate. The two pinned ninjas scrambled back, gasping.
But the one hit by the Mind Transfer remained catatonic. Shisui watched with a detached sigh.
This was the tragedy of small-country ninjas: even with similar ranks, the Konoha elites possessed a level of synergy and execution that made every move a masterpiece.
The Grass ninjas were rely reacting to a slaughter.
"Save him," Shisui murmured.
Ao, the dragonfly, took flight. Its wings blurred into a hum.
"Wind Style: Gale Palm!"
A concentrated blast of air forced the golden-haired Yamanaka back several steps. Negishi seized the mont, throwing his unconscious comrade over his shoulder.
"Run! Go!"
They sprinted, but the Ino-Shika-Cho moved to encircle them. The Yamanaka prepared another Mind Transfer; the Nara's shadow expanded to block their path; the Akimichi's muscles swelled as he prepared a physical blockade.
"It's over," one of the Grass ninjas whispered, closing his eyes in resignation.
"Take a hostage," Shisui's voice cut through the panic.
It was soft, but Negishi heard it clearly. "Who?"
"Sarutobi Shinnosuke," Shisui said. "He's the Hokage's son. Catch him, and we walk out alive."
Negishi froze. To kidnap the Hokage's son was to sign a blood feud with Konoha that would never end. But to not kidnap him...
He looked at his desperate comrades and the closing circle of elite masters.
"To hell with it!"
Negishi spun on his heel and charged not away from the camp, but toward the command dais.
The Capture
Shinnosuke was indeed young. At sixteen, he had only recently beco a Jōnin and was still adjusting to the weight of command. He stood on the platform, his face calm despite the burning depot.
"Sir, do we send reinforcents to the warehouse?"
"No," Shinnosuke shook his head. "The three seniors are there. That's enough. We stay here and ensure no one else slips through—"
Before he could finish, a black blur lunged at him. Shinnosuke's pupils contracted as he drew a kunai to parry.
Clang!
The sparks flew. Negishi's attacks were frantic and lethal, the desperation of a man with nothing to lose.
While Shinnosuke was talented, he lacked the raw, scarred experience of a Grass ninja who had fought for every scrap of food. Within seconds, Shinnosuke was forced onto the defensive.
"Protect the Commander!" the guards scread, rushing forward.
Negishi's "Greedy Ghost" ability allowed him to temporarily absorb incoming chakra, rendering small ninjutsu ineffective, but the sheer number of guards began to overwhelm him.
Suddenly, Shisui appeared at his side. The dragonfly's wings vibrated again.
"Wind Style: Great Breakthrough!"
A massive gust of wind knocked the guards off their feet. Shinnosuke braced himself for the wind, but he wasn't prepared for the subtle Insect Illusion Shisui wove into the air. For a split second, his mind went blank.
Negishi didn't miss the opening. He lunged, his hand snapping around Shinnosuke's throat, pulling the young commander in front of him as a human shield.
"DON'T MOVE!" he bellowed.
The guards froze. The Ino-Shika-Cho, arriving on the scene, stopped dead. All eyes were fixed on the gasping son of the Hokage.
"Let him go, and you can leave," the Yamanaka senior said, his voice dropping into a dangerous register.
Negishi laughed coldly, his grip tightening. "Let him go? If I let him go, we don't make it to the border."
He began to back away, keeping Shinnosuke between him and the Konoha ninjas. "Don't follow us. One more step, and the Hokage receives a corpse."
The Konoha forces stood still, their faces masks of fury. The six surviving Grass ninjas huddled behind Negishi.
In the distance, the diversionary force of orphans and rogues was already wiped out—but for the "Greedy Ghost" and the "Grass-Colored Dragonfly," the real ga had just begun.
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