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Silence enveloped the scene, the mist around them a physical manifestation of the uncertainty that hung in the air. Zabuza's grip on his sword loosened slightly, a small but significant sign. Horyu kept his own weapon at the ready, prepared for any outcome. He wasn't one to lower his guard until the threat was fully neutralized.
Finally, Zabuza spoke, his voice a low rumble of suppressed emotion. "This doesn't change anything. We're still enemies." But his words lacked the conviction of earlier threats. He glanced at Haku, who was slowly releasing Horyu, his breaths shallow and uneven from the wound.
Horyu nodded, acknowledging Zabuza's stance. "Enemies, perhaps. But today, we can choose not to be," he countered, his tone pragmatic yet edged with an unspoken understanding. He knew the world of shinobi was a complex one, where today's enemy could be tomorrow's reluctant ally. It was a dance of power and survival, one he was learning to navigate with a mix of caution and boldness.
As Shino and Hinata arrived at their side, with Tazuna close by, the tension on the bridge was palpable. The once quiet mist was now teeming with activity, hundreds of shadows converging at its edge. Leading the pack was a short, stout man, his smug smirk cutting through the tense air. He eyed Zabuza and Haku with a mix of amusement and disdain. "Well, they certainly did a number on you, Zabuza," he jeered, "What a pity."
Zabuza's eyes narrowed at the sight of the newcomers, his annoyance clear. "Gato. Why did you bring them here?" he demanded, his voice a low growl.
Gato chuckled, the sound grating and smug. "There's a change of plans, well, in yours. I've decided your price is too expensive, and you're not worthy at all. So, you will die, Demon of the Mist." His words were casual, as if discussing something as mundane as the weather, not the assassination of a renowned ninja
Zabuza was not impressed by Gato's betrayal, his expression one of disdain rather than fear. He was still in top condition, a formidable shinobi capable of tearing through thousands of thugs with ease. But the reality of his current predicament was not lost on him. If he was injured, he could be easily overwhelmed by sheer numbers. The thought of being taken down by common thugs, after barely escaping a fight with two skilled Konoha shinobi, gnawed at him. The idea of falling in such a disgraceful manner was intolerable.
Gato, oblivious to the simmering rage in Zabuza's eyes, continued his gloating. "It's always such a hassle hiring skilled shinobi still affiliated with major villages. They're expensive, and their comrades often object when I decide to dispose of them. But renegades like you? You're perfect. Nobody cares about losers like you. It's far more efficient to let you shinobi wear each other down, then take you out. No payment, no fuss. It's almost comical how you shinobi love to fight to the death."
Zabuza's grip on his sword tightened, his body tensing like a coiled spring. He had been a tool for far too long, used and discarded by those who thought they could control him. Gato's words were like fuel to the fire of his anger, a reminder of all the manipulations he had endured.
Zabuza looked at Kurenai and Horyu, a hardened gaze reflecting a lifetime of battle and betrayal. "I accept," he said, his voice low and gruff. The proposition Horyu had made was now his lifeline, a chance to retreat with what little pride he had left. He was no longer bound to Gato's twisted agenda, and the respect for the young shinobi before him, who might have foreseen this turn of events, began to take root.
As Gato walked forward, a misplaced sense of courage emanating from his small frame, he sneered, "That reminds me. I have a revenge to settle." His eyes were on Haku, the boy he believed dead, a sword still protruding from his chest. Gato remembered the humiliation he felt when Haku had nearly broken his arm in a previous confrontation, a burning desire for retribution flickering in his eyes.
Before Gato could reach Haku, Horyu stepped forward, his posture unyielding, "We are Shinobi of Konoha, here under the order of Hokage Uchiha Shisui-sama to ensure the bridge currently being built by Tazuna-san can be completed without any outside interference. As this is the Wave Country and its people support this decision, we can undertake this quest without breaking any laws governing sovereign nations. I ask you to take your battle outside and leave this place right now."
From the beginning, Shisui's covert mission for them was clear – eliminate Gato and disrupt his operations. While Zabuza's involvement was unexpected, it added a twist to their quest. Horyu's warning to Gato wasn't just a display of mercy; it was a strategic maneuver to assert Konoha's moral and legal superiority. If Gato retaliated, it would justify Konoha's aggressive response. But Gato, surrounded by his legion of thugs, was blinded by a false sense of security. To him, the seasoned shinobi were mere obstacles, not realizing the lethal force he was antagonizing.
Gato's approach towards Horyu, his stature dwarfed even by the young Uchiha, was marked by a misplaced arrogance. "Who gave you the courage to speak to me?" he sneered, raising his cane to strike.
Before his cane could strike, Gato's vision tumbled. A swift blur of motion and his head hit the ground with a dull thud. Kurenai stood next to Horyu, her face a mask of steely determination. "Attacking a Konoha Shinobi. That is a declaration of war," she stated, her voice cold as ice.
The thugs, shocked into stillness, watched as their employer crumpled to the ground. They were a motley crew of miscreants and cutthroats, but even they understood the gravity of what had just happened. Their eyes shifted nervously, unsure of their next move, the sudden shift in power leaving them paralyzed with indecision.
Then, as if the air itself had shifted, Zabuza, with his giant sword, charged forward. The Demon of the Mist was a terrifying sight, his massive blade cutting through the air with a deadly grace. The thugs, realizing the tide had turned, scattered in fear. Some dropped their weapons, their will to fight evaporating in the face of such overwhelming force. Others turned and fled, their shouts of alarm echoing through the mist.
Zabuza's movements were a brutal ballet of violence. Each swing of his sword sent bodies flying, the thuds of their falls a grim accompaniment to the metallic ring of his blade. Blood sprayed, painting the ground in gruesome splatters. The thugs were no match for him; they were like lambs to the slaughter, their crude weapons and numbers meaningless against the skill and fury of the Mist ninja.
Gato, his body lying motionless on the ground, was a stark reminder of the fate that awaited those who crossed the line. His cane, once a symbol of his authority, lay discarded, a pitiful remnant of his misplaced arrogance.
Horyu watched the carnage unfold, his expression unreadable. He wasn't a softy, but neither did he revel in the unnecessary slaughter. He understood the harsh necessities of the shinobi world, the pragmatism that sometimes required bloodshed. But there was no joy in it, only a grim acceptance of what needed to be done.
As the last of the thugs fell, Zabuza stood alone amidst the bodies, his chest heaving with exertion. The mist, his constant ally, swirled around him, as if to cloak the scene in a shroud of forgetfulness. But the bloodstains and fallen men were a testament to the brutal reality they all faced.
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