On the third day of his investigation in the Land of Hot Water, Lock moved carefully through the dense forest, his presence erased by the stealth ability that had become second nature to him.
Because he needed to keep himself hidden at all times, his progress was painstakingly slow. Four of the suspected locations Orochimaru had marked for him were already checked—each one turning up nothing. Not a single trace of a Kumo shinobi. With no choice, Lock pressed onward toward the next destination.
The Land of Hot Water bordered the Land of Fire and wasn't a harsh place to survive. The terrain was lush, the climate mild. Compared to the forests surrounding Konoha, it felt familiar. For a trained ninja, survival here was hardly a challenge.
Still, the monotony gnawed at him.
"Ugh… I wonder how long this life is going to last."
Lock leaned against the trunk of a towering cedar, his body draped along a branch. His face carried a helpless expression. This was the first mission he'd ever done completely alone, and it already felt like a nightmare. He hadn't gathered a single scrap of valuable information, and the thought of returning to Orochimaru empty-handed made his stomach twist.
That man wasn't Jiraiya. Orochimaru didn't forgive failure. If he went back with nothing to show for it, Lock knew exactly how things would end for him—and it wouldn't be pleasant.
Eventually, fatigue dragged him under, his stealth still cloaking him even as he drifted into restless sleep.
A faint rustle snapped him awake.
"...Someone's here."
Lock's eyes shot open, his muscles tightening like a drawn bowstring. Even in sleep, he had left his invisibility active. With his current chakra reserves and recovery rate, he could keep the technique running for days if needed. In the wilderness, safety came before anything else.
The pre-dawn air was cool and crisp, the first hints of light filtering through the forest canopy. Lock took a careful breath, then stilled it, listening.
Through the trees, movement. Shadows shifted. Then he saw them.
"Ninja… and not from Konoha."
His heart sped up. The three figures that emerged wore familiar metal plates strapped to their foreheads, the engraved cloud insignia leaving no doubt. Kumogakure shinobi.
Finally.
He had searched tirelessly for days without result, only to stumble across them after a night's sleep.
The three Kumo-nin slipped into a clearing nearby, taking a short rest. Though they looked casual, Lock noticed the subtle sharpness in their movements—the way their eyes swept the trees, the way their hands hovered near their weapons. They were cautious. Experienced.
Two long minutes passed before their vigilance eased. Only then did they relax.
"Our orders are to infiltrate the Land of Fire," one of them muttered, voice low. "We regroup with the others, then gather intel on Konoha's forces. The commander's already growing impatient—he wants to strike soon. We can't afford mistakes."
"Understood," another replied.
Lock's eyes narrowed. So the suspicions were true. Kumogakure wasn't simply harassing the border—they had a clear plan, and someone important was behind it.
The trio rose, preparing to move again.
A cold smile tugged at Lock's lips. "Found you. And now you think you can just walk away?"
The last man in the group suddenly staggered, a choked scream tearing from his throat. Blood blossomed across his chest.
"Clay!" one of the others shouted, whipping around.
The wounded shinobi raised a trembling hand, pointing behind him. "E… enemy attack!" His words broke into gurgles as his knees buckled, collapsing into the dirt.
The remaining two locked eyes, alarm flashing across their faces. From the shadows, a figure stepped forward and shoved the dying man aside.
A boy. Small, wiry, with cold eyes that didn't match his youthful appearance.
"Who the hell are you?" the leader barked.
Lock didn't answer right away. Without his forehead protector or uniform, they couldn't place him. That worked in his favor.
"You were talking so confidently a moment ago," he said lightly, his voice carrying an edge. "Why fall silent now that I'm standing in front of you?"
The leader's eyes narrowed. "Konoha… You're a Leaf shinobi."
Lock gave the faintest smirk.
The other Kumo-nin tensed. "He's no ordinary kid. Be careful."
The words had barely left his mouth before Lock's outline shimmered—and vanished.
"What? Where did he go?!"
Both cloud shinobi whipped around, alarmed. Their senses strained, but Lock's chakra presence was erased.
The leader didn't hesitate. "He's dangerous. I'll hold him off. You run and report back to the commander!"
The subordinate gave a sharp nod, turning to flee—
—and froze. His eyes bulged as invisible steel carved across his throat. Blood sprayed as his body crumpled to the earth.
"Too slow," Lock's cold whisper followed.
The leader spun. "Suiton: Water Dragon Jutsu!"
A massive torrent of water coiled into the form of a roaring dragon, surging toward Lock with crushing force.
Lock dropped the dying man's body and leapt backward, narrowly dodging as the dragon slammed into the earth. Water exploded outward, carving trenches into the soil.
Even as he retreated, his hands blurred through seals. "Earth Style: Earth Spear!"
From the ground, jagged stone lances erupted, forcing the Kumo leader to leap back in haste. Lock didn't waste the opening—he shifted direction, sprinting low, eyes locked on his opponent.
The battle was only just beginning.
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