Murakami observed his opponents as they approached him, weapons drawn, and a strange light flashed through his eyes.
Facing the five fully grown men, he felt strangely calm, utterly unbothered by their threatening appearances.
His spiritual senses washed over them instinctively.
Their breath was shallow and chaotic, their feet unsteady..
Even their killing intent felt shallow, more emotional than genuine.
One was drunk.
Two were overcommitting their weight onto their front legs as they approached him.
Another kept glancing toward the trees instead of focusing on the target in front of him.
And the leader…
Murakami's gaze lingered on him briefly.
That one had better instincts and a sharper awareness compared to the four, but he was still ordinary.
No chakra refinement to speak of. No sign of combat training beyond crude violence and experience gained from bullying weaker civilians.
Murakami exhaled quietly.
'Not worth releasing the weight seal.'
That thought surfaced naturally in his mind.
Because despite the aggression in their charge, they looked slow.
Painfully slow.
The first bandit reached him with a roar, swinging a rusted machete downward with both hands.
Murakami stepped slightly to the side.
The blade cut through empty air.
Before the man could react, Murakami's palm struck sharply into his ribs.
A sickening gasp escaped the bandit's mouth as the force lifted him slightly off balance.
Then a second strike landed against the side of his neck.
The man collapsed instantly.
The second arrived immediately after, thrusting forward wildly with a spear.
Too open.
Murakami caught the shaft mid-thrust and twisted.
The bandit stumbled forward from the sudden force.
Murakami's shoulder slammed into his chest.
The man crashed into the dirt unconscious before he even understood what happened.
The remaining two froze for half a second, fear very visible in their eyes.
But it was too late as Murakami moved first.
To their eyes, he blurred forward unnaturally fast.
One swung a cleaver desperately.
Murakami ducked beneath it and drove his elbow into the man's stomach hard enough to force the air from his lungs.
As his body folded forward, Murakami grabbed his arm and threw him violently into the fourth bandit rushing from the side.
Both men crashed together near the fire.
Before either could recover, Murakami was already there.
Two precise strikes against their necks and they both went unconscious.
Silence returned to the clearing almost instantly.
Four unconscious bodies lay scattered across the camp.
The entire exchange had lasted only moments.
The fire crackled softly between them.
Murakami slowly turned his gaze toward the last remaining figure.
The leader stood several meters away now, axe still in his hands.
But the arrogance from earlier was gone.
Completely gone.
A grim expression had settled over his face instead.
"That proposition…it's not too late to listen to it…is it?" The bandit leader asked as he focused his gaze on Murakami.
Murakami, on the other hand, tilted his head at the man's question…well, they weren't worth his time in the first place, so his initial proposal of having them as his training dummy was no longer necessary.
But then, remembering the purpose of the mission, a new idea popped in.
"If you tell me where the rest of your band are, I'll let you off easy." Murakami said directly in a plain voice.
The bandit leader's expression twitched slightly.
The answer had come too quickly.
Too calmly.
Like the boy standing in front of him wasn't threatening him, but merely offering a simpler alternative.
The grip around his axe tightened unconsciously.
"…And if I refuse?" he asked carefully.
Murakami looked at him for a brief moment.
Then his eyes drifted toward the four unconscious bodies scattered around the clearing before returning to the leader again.
"You'll still talk eventually," he answered plainly.
No arrogance, no mockery, just certainty.
The leader felt his stomach tighten involuntarily.
This kid…No… This shinobi…wasn't normal.
The clearing fell silent except for the crackling of the campfire between them.
Murakami waited patiently.
The bandit leader's thoughts raced rapidly.
Run?
Impossible.
Fight?
The four lying around him were proof enough of how that would end.
Then—
a realization struck him.
This boy was alone.
Which meant…
"…The others," the leader muttered slowly, eyes narrowing. "The two scouts…"
Murakami didn't answer.
But silence itself became the answer.
The leader's face darkened immediately.
"…Damn it."
His breathing grew heavier.
For the first time in a long while, genuine fear began creeping into his chest.
Because he finally understood the situation properly.
This had never been a frightened child stumbling into their camp.
This was a shinobi systematically dismantling them.
Murakami took a slow step forward and the leader stiffened immediately.
"Last chance," Murakami said calmly. "Where are the others?"
The man's eyes flickered in hesitation.
He was conflicted on whether to challenge the Shinobi and see what he was made of, but the sight of his unconscious comrades doused that thought immediately.
Then finally—
"…North," he muttered bitterly. "About three kilometers from here. Old mining grounds."
Murakami's spiritual senses washed over him briefly.
Elevated heartbeat.
Fear.
But no obvious deception.
Truth.
Murakami nodded once. "Wise choice."
Saying that, he took a step towards this man, causing the leader's expression to suddenly shift as a flash of desperation crossed his face.
He abruptly tightened both hands around the axe
Murakami's eyes narrowed slightly. Was he thinking of attacking?
Just as he thought that, the man roared and lunged towards him ferociously.
Of course, that was only in the bandit leader's mind.
To Murakami, the man was only slightly faster than the other four.
The axe tore through the air aiming directly for his shoulder with a substantial force behind it.
Murakami stepped slightly to the side causing the blade to miss him completely.
Before the leader could recover his stance, he swung again, his movement rough, aggressive, and fueled more by desperation than technique.
Murakami stepped back lightly as the attack struck nothing.
The leader gritted his teeth and pressed harder, swinging the heavy axe repeatedly with enough strength to split bone if it connected.
But every strike missed.
Murakami moved through the attacks with minimal motion, his expression unchanged beneath the dark mask as he observed the man carefully.
For a moment, he gave him the benefit of doubt.
Perhaps the leader had something more.
Some hidden trick.
Some degree of experience worth acknowledging.
But after several exchanges…nothing changed.
Just wild swings, heavy breathing and a sloppy recovery pattern after each attack.
The man's movements were already slowing.
Murakami's eyes dulled slightly.
"…This is getting boring."
Hearing that, the leader's pupils shrank and aggressively swung his axe one more time at Murakami.
Murakami however, didn't step away but stepped into the attack as the axe passed just behind him.
Then…a palm struck the center of the man's chest.
The impact sounded deceptively light, but the leader's entire body froze instantly.
His eyes widened violently as all the air in his lungs exploded outward.
"GUH—!"
The axe slipped from his hands as the massive man staggered backward several steps, clutching his chest desperately as he struggled to breathe.
Then his knees buckled as his eyes rolled back into his head.
He collapsed heavily onto the dirt beside the fire, gasping soundlessly like a fish dragged onto land.
Murakami looked down at him silently for a moment.
Then he calmly reached into his pouch and pulled out a Binding Tag.
The first phase of the mission was over.
Next was to round up the remaining bandit.
"3km to the north, huh?" He muttered. "No wonder I couldn't sense them."
Just then, a familiar presence stepped into his sensory range. "Oh? Looks like you're also done here."
Murakami wasn't startled by the new arrival as he went about placing the tags on the 5 unconscious bandits.
When he finished, he turned to look at the owner of the voice.
Sora stepped out from between the trees first, breathing slightly heavier than usual while dragging an unconscious bandit behind him.
A few seconds later, Hideki emerged from another direction.
The moment their eyes landed on the camp, both of them froze as they saw the unconscious bodies.
The unleveled and shattered ground.
The axe lying several meters away from its owner.
And Murakami standing quietly in the center of it all.
Hideki asked slowly. "…You did all this already?"
Murakami nodded and calmly said. "They were weaker than expected."
Hideki stared at him speechlessly.
Minutes ago, he was sweating bullets at the thought of sneaking up on just one bandit, and yet, here was Murakami standing unperturbed with five such bandits taken out.
And from the look of things…he hadn't sneaked up on them.
There was a genuine battle and he came out victorious.
Sora, however, quickly noticed the Binding Tags placed on each of the bandits and adjusted his glasses quietly.
"…You captured them all alive."
Murakami glanced toward the forest to the north.
"There are more," he said simply, ignoring the question with the obvious answer. "The leader gave up their location before attacking."
That immediately wiped the relief from Hideki's face.
"There's more?!"
"Three kilometers north," Murakami continued calmly. "Old mining grounds." repeating exactly what the bandit leader said earlier.
Whether there was an old mining ground three kilometers ahead was unknown to him, but since the bandit leader said there was, there had to be.
Sora's expression grew serious again.
"So this really was just an outer camp…"
Murakami nodded.
For a brief moment, silence settled over the clearing again, broken only by the crackling of the fire.
Then—
a slow clap echoed from the darkness beyond the trees.
The three Genin stiffened instantly. No, Murakami didn't stiffen but his gaze narrowed a bit.
He watched as Kaito stepped into the clearing moments later, with an amused look on his face.
'As expected of a Jonin…I hadn't sensed him at all.' Murakami thought to himself. 'Still got some ways to go.' he concluded.
"Well done," Kaito said.
His gaze swept briefly across the unconscious bandits before stopping on Murakami. "Cleaner than I expected."
Hideki immediately straightened instinctively while Sora exhaled quietly in rel
ief.
Kaito's eyes shifted toward the northern forest afterward. "But don't relax yet," he added. "The real mission starts now."
The atmosphere changed instantly as whatever sense of accomplishment they had felt disappeared almost immediately.
Because all of them understood one thing now.
These seven had only been the beginning.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
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