Chapter 79 — Midnight Ambush
Deep into the night, when the world lay silent, Taichi gently withdrew the IV needle from the back of a patient's hand.
The man—Kawada, the shinobi who had suffered massive burns and internal bleeding—now looked almost completely healed on the surface. No one would believe how close to death he'd been.
"Taichi… thank you. Truly. If not for you, my life would have ended here."
"Don't say that," Taichi replied softly.
"What you need now is rest. Recover as soon as possible—the outpost is desperately short on fighting strength."
"R-right. Understood."
Kawada obediently lay back down, closing his eyes.
After an entire afternoon of exhausting treatments, Taichi had finally finished tending to all lightly and moderately wounded shinobi.
Only the three severe cases remained in the medical tent—those even he could not fully heal yet.
Once he checked their bandages and stabilized their conditions, Taichi settled onto a small stool, closed his eyes, and quietly refined chakra to replenish what he had burned through that day.
Tonight…
would likely be a sleepless night.
---
Around two or three in the morning—
the hour when exhaustion is deepest—
Taichi's eyes snapped open.
He stared toward the center of the camp, gaze sharp, as though looking straight through the canvas walls.
A heartbeat later, the outpost finally echoed with—
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
explosions
and
shouts of killing intent.
He did not rush out.
According to the plan, his duty was to guard the medical tent and the wounded inside.
He stayed.
---
The thunderous noise jolted the three severely injured shinobi awake.
Despite their injuries, instinct drove them to rise.
Weapon in hand, they staggered to Taichi's side, forming a protective circle around him.
Seeing this, Taichi's chest warmed.
He drew his own short blade and murmured,
"No need to panic. Just focus on staying alive.
I still have some combat ability."
The three wounded men exchanged faint smiles, clearly assuming he was only trying to comfort them.
But inside, each of them made the same silent vow:
Even if it costs our lives…
we won't let anything happen to him.
Suddenly—
shffft! shffft! shffft!
Three kunai ripped through the tent wall, aimed straight at the boy in the center.
Takayama swung his remaining arm and parried them with a single, desperate slash.
The tent wall tore open further as three enemy shinobi burst inside.
They scanned the interior, saw only:
three wounded men, barely able to stand
one small, seemingly harmless boy
Their lips curled into cruel grins.
The injured men tensed, faces grim.
Their bodies were broken, their chakra nearly spent—
but they still stepped forward, each choosing an opponent.
"Taichi! Run! We'll hold them off!"
Their voices held no hesitation—only the resolve of those ready to die.
Taichi's heart clenched at their courage.
But his hands did not falter.
Using Takayama's body as cover, Taichi slid silently behind two clashing shinobi.
Just as their blades met—
in that brief moment of opening—
Taichi's short sword flashed.
A silent thrust
clean and perfect
pierced the enemy's heart from under Takayama's arm.
Instant kill.
Takayama hadn't even processed what happened when Taichi had already slipped past him, blade drawn, heading straight toward the next pair of struggling shinobi.
Only now did the enemy understand:
The seemingly weakest kid in this tent…
was the real man-eating tiger.
"Matsui! Behind you!"
The warning came too late.
Taichi used a deft sidestep, slipping behind the enemy called Matsui.
Seeing this, Kawada—still fighting through his own injuries—threw himself forward with reckless abandon, forcing Matsui to split his focus.
Back turned and balance compromised—
this was exactly the kind of opponent Taichi loved most.
With one clean, silent motion, his short blade swept across Matsui's throat.
By the time Matsui realized Kawada's attack was just a feint, there was no chance to defend.
Taichi's blade had already delivered the finishing cut.
The final enemy who'd burst into the medical tent turned pale.
He watched Matsui collapse—
watched the kid turn those calm, predator-like eyes toward him—
and terror instantly crushed whatever courage he had left.
He took a wound from his injured opponent's kunai, but still forced his way free, stumbling in desperation as he tore out of the tent and fled into the darkness.
---
Moments Earlier — Outside the Tent
Just before the three attackers stormed the medical tent—
Several kunai wrapped with explosive tags whistled over the outer defenses and detonated inside the outpost.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Flames and shockwaves rippled through the night.
Using the explosions as cover, more than twenty enemy shinobi vaulted over the perimeter and charged into the camp.
But instead of the chaos they expected…
They were greeted by a fully armed and prepared Konoha defense line—
numbers halved, but spirit blazing.
"Damn it! How did they know we were coming!?"
the blue-haired leader roared.
"I told you not to make a fire yesterday! If you had to make one, at least clear the traces! The patrol must've found it!" the green-haired one snapped back.
"Doesn't matter. There's fewer of them—just cut them down!
Last time it was only our squad; today we've got two squads. Easy money."
The blue-haired man's arrogance showed he had never taken Konoha seriously.
The green-haired leader scanned the camp, then barked:
"Little brother! Take two men. Head to the medical tent.
Last attack left them with a lot of wounded—go finish them."
"Yes, big bro."
The man immediately led two others toward the medical tents.
The rest surged forward as the green-haired leader shouted:
"Kill them all!"
With their numbers, the attackers pushed forward aggressively at first.
But before their momentum could turn into victory—
A rain of kunai burst from the nearby barracks,
dozens of blades streaking through the air.
Caught off-guard, several distracted enemies were struck before they even reacted, collapsing into easy kills for the Konoha defenders.
The battlefield flipped instantly.
"What—!? How is their reinforcement here already!?"
The two enemy leaders regrouped, panic in their eyes.
"Impossible! The intel said reinforcements need three days! It's barely the second night! Nobody can move that fast!"
"Look—those two brats! They must be the supply-run genin squad."
"Doesn't matter—we still outnumber them. Keep fighting!"
They were optimistic.
But they had badly underestimated the difference between bounty-hunters and elite village shinobi.
Whether in skill or morale, the gulf was enormous.
Within barely five minutes, the supposedly overwhelming attackers were already collapsing.
It was a complete farce.
And to make matters worse—
Among the "supply team" was a jōnin.
The enemy's last advantage evaporated.
Now all they could think about was—
How to survive long enough to escape.
The green-haired leader suddenly froze mid-clash with Yamaguchi.
A scream—shrill, terrified—echoed from the medical tents.
He shoved Yamaguchi back with a burst of chakra and whipped his head toward the source.
A figure burst out of the tent—
one of his own men—
running in absolute terror, still screaming for help.
Before he could reach his leader—
A blade tip punched cleanly through his chest.
Then came a horizontal slash—
explosive, brutal—
splitting his torso open at the sternum.
Blood sprayed.
The green-haired man's roar tore through the battlefield:
"AAAAAHHHH!!"
A howl of rage and grief
so raw and violent
that the entire outpost seemed to tremble with it.
Even Konoha shinobi paused, momentarily struck by the sheer anguish.