His memories had shown him the brutality of the world, war, torture, psychological torment, and things that didn't exist in this world. But they rarely conveyed the visceral reality of something like this.
It was a different life from the average human of the 21st century, enjoying a life of luxury with minimum inconvenience, watching everything as nothing more than entertainment, a fantasy on the screen.
But this was reality for him, not fiction.
His gaze swept over the cavern again. The slumped, emaciated figures chained to their stations. The casual cruelty shown by the guards, their faces devoid of empathy.
Ryuu remembered the mission parameters, "zero contact, no lethal force". But here, the spirit of the orders – "efficiency," "discretion," "adaptability" – demanded a different interpretation. Discretion, sometimes, lay in leaving no witness. Efficiency, sometimes, required absolute eradication of the source of the rot.
He didn't care about the orders at the moment, especially the one pertaining to lethal force.
First, information. Every scrap. This needed to do a clean sweep.
Ryuu began his methodical descent into the cavern. He ignored the whimper of a captive, the crack of a whip, for now. His senses were stretched, meticulously mapping every corner of the vast, subterranean space. He identified distinct clusters of chakra signatures of the mercenary guards, and a few slightly stronger, more refined signatures of what he presumed were the operation's higher-ranking overseers or more capable shinobi. He noted their weapons, their patrol routes, their blind spots.
He felt for deeper passages, for hidden caches, for any signs of communication methods that might transmit intelligence before he could secure it.
His gaze, behind the blank porcelain mask, absorbed every detail. The quality of the crystalline drugs, the bizarre, almost medical-grade equipment in one corner that looked like it belonged in a research lab. He had seen similar setups in his memories, twisted beyond recognition into perverted, biological horrors.
He located more ledgers and loose scrolls on a small, blood-stained desk in a rough-hewn cubicle overlooking the main production floor. These were detailed production logs, far more extensive than the summary book upstairs. They documented input materials, output yields, and delivery schedules to various "partners." The sheer scale of the operation became terrifyingly clear. He saw names, codenames.
Azure Scale Merchants again, but also several more. Stone Mountain Holdings. Water Vortex Trading Co.
These weren't just random smugglers. These were front organizations for major powers.
In another corner, a smaller, heavily sealed chest caught his attention. He destroyed the simple lock by covering it in ice, taking it well below freezing. Inside, alongside a handful of small, highly refined drug samples, were sealed intelligence packets.
Encrypted. But the envelopes themselves had familiar, distinctive watermarks. The symbol of Kirigakure.
And another, a stylized mountain, the mark of Iwagakure.
And a third, a music note. Otogakure, Orochimaru's village.
A cold knot of dread tightened in Ryuu's stomach. This wasn't just drug trafficking. This was a tripartite operation, a secret alliance funding Kiri's experiments, potentially strengthening Iwa's black ops, and benefiting Orochimaru's monstrous research.
The "unspecified research purposes" on his mission brief were far more sinister than drug production. The "mineral salts" were likely components for twisted biological experiments or chakra-enhancing compounds.
He sealed the intelligence packets, carefully transferring their contents to a storage scroll. The data would be invaluable.
However, two things stood out to him so far. The first was about how easily the documents were located, especially since they contained the insignia of the villages they represented. It was an extremely stupid act.
The other was the fact that he had yet to be discovered.
Sure, he was adept at stealth to a certain extent, but he hadn't used advanced methods to move around. Not to mention the chakra signature spikes he created when using the storage scroll. This meant that no sensor nin was assigned to this operation's supervision, which was more than odd, especially with how important it was to the three major villages based on the information he had acquired.
Something was wrong here.
The guards were complacent, the security lackadaisical for such a high-value, high-risk operation. It was almost as if they expected no serious threat. A test? A trap? No, the atmosphere was too genuinely relaxed. Perhaps just arrogance, or a severe underestimation. The sheer complacency indicated they thought they were beyond reach.
A gross miscalculation.
Ryuu finished securing the intel. He had the information Konoha needed. Now, the final judgment.
His gaze swept over the cavern one last time. The slumped, emaciated figures, their bare skin raw with whip marks, their eyes dulled by an unspeakable misery. A guard casually backhanded a young woman who stumbled, sending her crashing into a pile of materials.
The sound of her choked cry was almost lost in the din, but it pierced through just enough for Ryuu to hear it.
The orders. Lethal force forbidden. Subdue and escape if absolutely unavoidable. Ryuu closed his eyes for a microsecond.
The cold, analytical part of him knew following orders was paramount. It was ANBU, it was discipline. But the child, the boy who had seen the suffering and understood the bitter taste of being treated as a tool, recoiled. His 21st-century memories of human rights abuses, of systematic cruelty, slammed into the current reality, unfiltered by his shinobi training.
This was the visceral horror his passive memories had rarely conveyed. It was a cold sickness, a deep, burning outrage he'd never truly felt. No witness should remain who condoned this. No perpetrator should breathe free.
He opened his eyes. There would be no subduing. There would be no escape. There would only be… eradication.
He didn't engage the general guards head-on, rather, he killed the isolated ones first, swiftly killing them in the fastest way possible. No unnecessary movement.
The corpses behind were left with a hole in their skull, the blood mixed in with bits of unmelted ice.
The sheer size of the operation, the number of perpetrators, meant he couldn't simply rely on the one-shot stealth he'd used on the perimeter guard. He needed a methodical approach, one that eliminated the highest threats first, then systematically purged the rest.
He targeted the guards on the main production floor next. They were the easy ones. A precisely thrown ice senbon, molded from the humid air and imbued with a minute but lethal amount of chakra, would pierce the back of a neck, severing the brain stem.
With the simple sound of something sharp piercing through flesh, they were dead. No flailing. The victims simply slumped, their bodies collapsing softly against machinery or into piles of raw materials, appearing to be sleeping, or simply tired.
Ryuu was methodical. He moved among the bustling production lines. A mercenary, busy shouting at an emaciated worker, suddenly swayed, an ice senbon vanishing into the base of his skull. His yell died in his throat, replaced by a gurgling wheeze as his body slumped, lifeless. Ryuu flowed onward, ninjato silent in his hand. He picked his targets with chilling efficiency. Each fell silently, their bodies falling where they stood, often hidden by the dim light or the angle of machinery.
He approached a supervisor, a burly figure who regularly cracked a whip against the captives' backs. As the supervisor turned to scream at a fainting worker, Ryuu blurred into existence behind him. One hand clamped over the man's mouth, suppressing any cry, the other driving a bone-deep stab into his heart with his ninjato, muffling any struggle into a mere shudder.
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[POV Shift: Itachi Uchiha]
Itachi, cloaked and masked in his usual ANBU gear, stood motionless above the Yubana Processing Plant, high within the perpetual mists that shrouded the Land of Hot Water. His Sharingan, cut through the steam, providing him with a terrifyingly clear view of the horrors unfolding beneath him. His mission, assigned directly by Lord Hokage, was simple: observe Subject 003, Yuki Ryuu. Assess his performance, his discretion, his resolve. Intervene only if a catastrophic mission failure or critical threat to the subject emerged.
He had followed Ryuu from the moment he entered the hidden Konoha tunnel. He had watched as Ryuu calmly prioritized his recovery. He'd registered the fleeting, almost imperceptible "Hyōton: Zero" – a surprisingly sophisticated application of Ice Release that spoke volumes of Ryuu's ingenuity. Itachi recognized it as a highly useful, though dangerous, stealth technique, pushing the body beyond it's limits.
The journey had been a meticulous display of efficient covert travel, the sparse use of two Kage Bunshin, and brilliant terrain exploitation. Ryuu's adaptability in this foreign environment was evident.
But now, observing the interior of the plant, Itachi's eyes narrowed. The mission parameters had been "zero contact, no lethal force" on the assumption of basic intel retrieval from a low-risk merchant guild front. Yet, what Ryuu had discovered, what he was currently conducting, was a purge. A silent, merciless extermination of every single individual involved in the trafficking and enslavement.
Itachi watched as Ryuu eliminated the target nearest to the control room – the manager himself, a corpulent civilian with chakra negligible enough to pose no threat.
The young Genin was moving with an unnerving, practiced efficiency. He prioritized threats by the level of their chakra signatures, then their apparent cruelty, then their potential for escape or retaliation. He used small bursts of Ice Release, Wind Release, or his ninjato, always favoring silence and absolute finality. No screams, no prolonged struggles. The chaos of the active production lines, the constant hum of the machinery, and the distant cries of the traumatized captives provided perfect cover.
Itachi, with his own history of executing terrible orders for the village, recognized the chilling resolve, the absolute conviction that sometimes, destruction was the only form of preservation. The will to perform such an act, the absolute certainty, was something few shinobi, even in ANBU, ever truly developed.
His assessment parameters shifted. He was eliminating any possible contact from the perpetrators to anyone outside, including any distant Kiri or Iwa overseers who might be checking in. And he was clearly judging that the immediate and total elimination of this source of suffering was far more paramount than a technical adherence to 'non-lethal.'
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, but was less than twenty minutes of concentrated activity, Ryuu stood alone amongst the slumped, lifeless forms.
Itachi narrowed his eyes. He noticed the minute, almost imperceptible tremor in Ryuu's stance, the ever-so-slight heave of his chest, barely detectable beneath the grey uniform. The job was complete. Now, the aftermath.
He saw Ryuu carefully severing the remaining chains, cutting the bound and broken from their bondage. He pointed a silent finger towards a hidden vent, a narrow tunnel to outside, then melted back into the shadows for his exfiltration.
Itachi moved, materializing within the cavern before Ryuu could complete his exit.
He found Ryuu collapsed against a damp, mineral-stained rock, the plain porcelain mask discarded and clattering on the cold stone floor. His young, pale face was stark with anguish, tear streaks glinting on his cheeks, mixing with dust and sweat. His throat worked convulsively. He heaved, his stomach contents spraying across the cavern floor. It was the physical manifestation of profound revulsion and a breaking heart. Ryuu's control, so absolute during the act of violence, had shattered at its cessation.
Itachi moved towards him, his steps silent, his face unreadable behind his own mask. He didn't speak. He simply approached, standing over the shuddering boy for a moment. Ryuu didn't sense him, he was too overwhelmed, his senses consumed by internal torment.
Then, Itachi slowly, carefully, extended a gloved hand and placed it on Ryuu's heaving shoulder. The physical contact, the solid presence in his breakdown, made Ryuu flinch, then look up, his red eyes raw with anguish, startled recognition flickering across them before a wave of shame.
"It's finished, Unit 003," Itachi's voice, toneless and flat as required by ANBU protocol, yet carrying a subtle, almost imperceptible undercurrent of understanding, reached him. "The task is complete. Now, you proceed to the reporting area. This mission concludes with your flawless extraction."
His touch remained on Ryuu's shoulder for another moment, a silent weight that offered no comfort, no judgment, only a steady presence of acknowledgment.
Then Itachi retracted his hand, turned, and disappeared as silently as he came.
Ryuu was left alone in the now-silent, dead cavern, the bile burning in his throat. He clenched his fists repeatedly, trying to calm himself down.
"Damn it."