'Vampiric Gaze!'
Suguru's eyes flashed, locking his opponent's gaze in place. Irises so silvery, they could've been mistaken as mirrors, forced the haughty shinobi into looking into their own reflected eyes.
Chakra was siphoned despite the distance, flowing as a stream straight into Suguru.
—Woop!
Even the chakra threads used for communication were pulled into the embrace of his gaze.
—Swish!
In a blur, Suguru flickered, his chakra propelled him forward. Not even an afterimage would be left behind as he vanished from where he stood.
Any faster, and people would think he was using space-time Ninjutsu.
—Whoosh!
Reappearing behind the shinobi, Suguru's hand snapped out, a kunai gripped tightly. On his face was a peculiar expression:
An arrogant uncaringness.
—For a life not worth his time.
…At least, such was what the shinobi perceived in that singular instance of pure terror. Until cold shinobi iron sliced a short arc of death.
All Suguru did was a mere flick of the wrist.
It was just like magic.
—Fwhip!
The blade sliced cleanly across the shinobi's carotid artery. The cut was a mere eight millimetres in length, just enough for it to encompass the width of the artery.
Plus a little more for the spray.
"H-huh..?"
Eyes went wide despite their perpetual narrowed gaze, while a mouth fell agape as blood sprayed. There wasn't even enough time for their life to flash before their eyes.
There was only death.
—Thud.
Instant death.
A lifeless body crumpled to the ground, and a spray of blood created a faint crimson mist.
"Boo~!"
Suguru twirled the kunai in his hand with a smile on his face. A chuunin's life had been taken just like that.
That assassination was quite fun.
It allowed him to admire the growth of his technique. At first, he had been incorporating martial arts into his battle style. Now, he was thinking of adding the dazzlingly subtle essence of a magician's sleight of hand.
In essence, [Shinobi Magic].
'How quaint,'
Suguru then vanished from where he stood, leaving a burning corpse as a warning and a wake-up call for friends and enemies.
A message that told them that there was yet another stakeholder in the events to come. After all, what were those little plans they were concocting beneath the Hokage's shadow?
They were only a little bigger than some unruly pawns.
And now, they would have no choice but to expect just as many unpredictable variables as the Hokage was currently toiling over.
* * *
In a densely covered treetop on the outskirts of Konohagakure, a few inconspicuous shinobi wearing various civilian clothes were huddled around a crackling radio, awaiting a status report from one of their subordinates.
Yet… after just a few brief moments, all sounds from their subordinate's earpiece had gone silent.
It was unnerving.
At first, there was a voice full of excitement.
Then disdain upon certain realizations.
And then…
Now, there was nothing.
Static buzzed through the silence — a silence that grew heavier with each passing second. The shinobi exchanged glances, each one etched with concern. The absence of a signal spoke volumes, confirming what they feared most: they had just lost someone in that brief moment.
Oh, how fickle life had been.
"W-what was that…" A sound came from another part of the radio — this one using a different channel.
It was from one of those dispatched nearby.
"…Someone killed Falcon, Jura," one of the commanders whispered an answer to his subordinate, his voice barely carrying over the fire's pops and hisses.
"Silver hair, and a childlike stature… Was it the Ghost?" Jura asked with a faint tremble in his voice.
One of the other commanders leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes to think.
"They say he's just a kid," he murmured. "I can't believe that it was real. Konoha has created another genius of Shisui's caliber, it seems."
The moniker 'Ghost of the Land of Rivers' conjured images of a specter haunting the riverbanks of an adjacent country.
A legend who had been born from whispered tales of the few who somehow survived.
Those who had encounters with him all said that the Ghost had long silver hair and a child-like stature. Yet only a few ever survived to tell the tale.
Many were reduced to ashes.
Furthermore, some stories claimed that even Shimura Danzo of Konoha's Root had personally placed a special directive upon his head.
"Hah, as if." Another commander — a veteran shinobi, scarred from the previous Shinobi World War — scoffed at the notion.
"Child or not, underestimate him at your peril. His age is irrelevant; it's his eyes that haunt you. Some sources have claimed that he has the Uchiha Clan's Sharingan."
Rumors had spread like wildfire, some saying the Ghost was an old soul reborn in youthful flesh through a special Kinjutsu, while civilian rumors were claiming he was a demon child sent to torment them.
However, although the tales varied, all agreed on one thing: the Ghost was dangerous.
Especially in the Land of Rivers.
"—Tsk."
Someone clicked their tongue, and the radio was adjusted to send a message to all active channels.
"All personnel dispatched to the West… Fall back and hide as best as you can. The Ghost is in Konoha."
"I repeat…"
—Swish.
The sound of a singular crackling note echoed throughout every active channel, awfully similar to the time Falcon had been slain.
"!!!"
Several pairs of eyes widened in shock. For a moment, every commander felt their breath getting stuck in their throat.
—hahahahahaha!
Then, the faint laughter of a child echoed throughout the room.
And everyone got the chills. Sweat dripped down their backs.
"What happened?"
For a moment, none of the commanders knew what to do. Until one spoke up,
"Fourteen shinobi… I think we can assume that… they were all killed in the same instance. There was no other implicating factor between them other than the earpiece they were wearing for communication. We made sure of this."
The commander who had been analyzing the situation was trembling.
He was piecing together what could've blown their cover.
"Was it because they all received the same command?"
Had someone been listening to every earpiece in Konoha? Were their identities as spies shattered merely because someone announced commands through a shared network?
The analyzing commander was in disbelief.
"…Who can believe that something like this is possible?"
"Because it isn't." Someone began rationalizing. "It's probably a trick."
But how?
And more importantly… why?