The crimson sky faded to twilight.
A cool breeze carried the acrid smell of smoke, stinging Tatsumi's lungs. The kunai wound in his chest throbbed, a lingering reminder of the battle. He reached down, grasped the kunai at his feet, and stood.
Nawaki and Mikoto followed suit, each picking up a kunai. Without hesitation, the trio opened the door and stepped inside.
Killing wasn't new to them, but slaughtering the unarmed was. As Orochimaru had said, this was their chosen path—they'd walk it, even on their knees.
Tatsumi entered quietly, finding over a dozen people bound inside. Among the rugged men were women, their eyes filled with pain and fear, constricted by Orochimaru's summoned snakes.
Tatsumi's gaze settled on a middle-aged man. Desperation and rage flickered in his eyes. Once, he might've been a figure of power in Windmill Village. Now, he was helpless, watching a child approach with a kunai.
He'd chosen this life, knowing death was a risk. Still, dying at the hands of a kid stung his pride.
He didn't resist as Tatsumi drew closer. His struggles only worsened the pain of his broken arm. Fury burned in his glare—these children had destroyed his world.
Tatsumi's face was blank. His kunai sliced the man's throat with deliberate precision.
Blood sprayed.
The man gurgled, his world turning cold, as if winter had seized his throat. Tatsumi stepped over the pooling blood, moving to the next target.
A woman. She thrashed, sobbing, her whimpers begging for mercy. Tatsumi's kunai silenced her with a single cut.
He walked out, leaving the rest to Nawaki and Mikoto.
Orochimaru sat outside, staring at the sky. Tatsumi joined him, settling opposite, gazing upward. The moon hung bright, framed by distant forest shadows.
Without the ruins before them, the scene could've been beautiful—lush leaves, vibrant under moonlight. Back in Konoha, Tatsumi had loved its scenery. But Konoha, neither vast nor small, had grown repetitive, fueling his yearning for the wider ninja world.
Now, mere days from home, he felt a pang of homesickness. The outside world wasn't the adventure he'd imagined.
The metallic tang of blood clung to Tatsumi, sharper now than before. His demeanor had hardened, a shift from the boy who'd left Konoha.
Orochimaru nodded approvingly. "This mission involved a jonin, and you killed him. I'll request it be upgraded to A-rank."
"Completing an A-rank mission before even becoming a genin," Orochimaru said, licking his lips. "Feels good, doesn't it?"
Good? I nearly died, Tatsumi thought, curling his lip. He swore he'd rather starve or leap off a cliff than take another A-rank mission. Let someone else play hero.
"So, you're an Earth clone, right?" Tatsumi asked, not looking at Orochimaru.
Orochimaru nodded. "My real body's pursuing the bandit leader."
Tatsumi's suspicions confirmed. From the moment he'd noticed Scarman's resemblance to the Rogue Town couple, he'd sensed Orochimaru's hand orchestrating events.
The hotel wasn't a random stop. Orochimaru had known Scarman's connection to the innkeepers. That knowledge had fueled Tatsumi's confidence to risk the guiding genjutsu in the final standoff.
He was certain Orochimaru had been nearby, watching. Asking if Orochimaru would've intervened if the plan failed was pointless—it'd imply distrust. A crack in their bond would be irreparable.
"What's the deal with this village?" Tatsumi asked.
Orochimaru didn't answer directly. "This bandit purge mission was issued twice before."
"So, Konoha wiped this place out twice, yet it keeps coming back?" Tatsumi said.
"Exactly," Orochimaru replied. "When I scouted alone, I noticed the deputy leader—Scarman—frequented Rogue Town. His resemblance to the hotel couple tipped me off."
"Rogue Town and this village are linked," he continued. "The town's a trade hub, bustling with merchants. Its residents gather intel on wealthy travelers—'fat sheep'—and pass it to the bandits, who pick their targets."
"That's why the bandits persist. As long as Rogue Town stands, the village rebuilds, no matter how many times it's razed."
Tatsumi's jaw tightened. The ninja world's darkness sank deeper. A seemingly innocent town colluding with bandits? Unthinkable.
"What's the plan for Rogue Town?" Tatsumi asked.
"Plan?" Orochimaru sneered. "Why bother? It's a key route to the River Country, thriving with trade. If war breaks out with the Sand, its strategic value is obvious. With minimal effort, it could be a Konoha base."
"Think Konoha sent you here just to train?" Orochimaru's voice dripped with disdain. "The village signed an alliance with the Third Kazekage. Keep that quiet."
Tatsumi blinked, exasperated. Drop a bombshell, then tell me to shut up? Less scheming, more honesty would be nice.
"And the couple?" Tatsumi pressed.
"Your call," Orochimaru said lightly.
"Seal their memories, give them money, and send them to the Daimyo's capital," Tatsumi suggested.
Orochimaru's eyes narrowed, but Tatsumi cut in. "This isn't pity, Sensei. Our mission was to eliminate the bandits. The couple's irrelevant—not threats, not whistleblowers. Minor players."
"Less killing's better, right?"
"Killing is a ninja's essence," Orochimaru said.
"Then I'll change this ninja world," Tatsumi declared. "That's my dream—to reshape it into something I can stand. The strong get to remake the world, don't they?"
"And if the world resists?" Orochimaru asked.
"I'll tear it down and build it my way," Tatsumi said, unflinching. "I'm disappointed in this ninja world. I'll make it mine."
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