Renjiro felt an eerie calm wash over him, a calm that had become familiar in moments like these. The silence of the clearing was thick, the smell of iron and blood hanging in the air, but Renjiro's mind was far away, recalling a time when everything had changed.
It was back when he first used his fourth tomoe, against Date, the swordsman from the Mist. Where he first used his Sharingan with the fourth tomoe. That encounter had been something of a revelation for Renjiro during that battle, he had felt it—the shift in power, the change in the way his Genjutsu functioned.
At first, it had been subtle. A slight difference in how his chakra moved when he cast the illusion, a faint sense of something more at his fingertips.
He hadn't paid it much mind in the heat of battle, focused instead on weaving his illusion with the precision he'd honed over years of practice. But when Date had fallen into the Genjutsu, Renjiro had felt it fully. The control he now had within the Genjutsu was unlike anything he had experienced before.
It wasn't that he had struggled with control in the past—on the contrary, his mastery over Genjutsu had always been one of his assets—which he put conscious effort into improving.
Before, he had always been able to dictate what his targets saw or experienced, but it was limited. The boundaries of the illusion had always been set by the jutsu's template and the target's mind, their own subconscious affecting how deep or intricate the Genjutsu could be.
But now, Renjiro felt like those limitations had been lifted. The illusionary space felt larger, more malleable. He could push the boundaries of it further, controlling not just what his target saw, but how they felt, and how they reacted, in ways that had once been impossible.
And then there was the new discovery—the ability to create a Genjutsu within a Genjutsu. This was the true power of the fourth tomoe. It was a technique that required an incredible amount of focus and control, but Renjiro had mastered it quickly.
The ability to trap his targets in a layered genjutsu made it nearly impossible for them to break free, as they would think they had escaped, only to find themselves still trapped within another layer of false reality.
"I'm not sure if even Fugaku could do this," Renjiro mused aloud, a small smirk playing at his lips.
"Even if he can, I won't be able to experience it,"
Renjiro said as he glanced down at the bodies strewn about the clearing. The idea of having a strong genjutsu technique like the future Uchiha clan head filled him with a quiet sense of satisfaction.
Takao and his group of rogue shinobi had been a formidable force, but Renjiro had been more than prepared. The moment he felt them surround him, he had already set his trap, casting the Genjutsu without them even realizing it.
The brilliance of the technique was in its subtlety. They thought they had the advantage, thought they could catch him off guard. But Renjiro had been ready for them from the start.
"I swear I've seen something like this in a movie before," Renjiro muttered with a chuckle, though the exact memory eluded him.
Renjiro then walked among the other rogue shinobi, slitting their throats with precision, just as he had done to Takao. It had been swift, methodical, and cold.
But there was more to be done.
"I should probably read their memories," Renjiro said softly, his eyes narrowing as he knelt beside one body.
He made a quick hand sign, and in an instant, four shadow clones appeared around him. The clones moved silently to the other bodies, placing their hands on the foreheads of the fallen shinobi.
Memory extraction from corpses was not a skill Renjiro had fully mastered, but he was getting better. His success rate was about sixty per cent, but with each attempt, he grew more proficient.
Renjiro placed his hand on the cold skin, closing his eyes as he concentrated. The process was delicate, requiring precise chakra control to sift through the fragmented memories left behind in the brain.
It wasn't always a clean process, and often the memories were disjointed or incomplete, but Renjiro had learned how to navigate the chaos.
As he focused, flashes of images and sounds began to fill his mind—faces, conversations, places he had never been. He sifted through them quickly, discarding the irrelevant and honing in on the details that mattered.
The shadow clones worked in silence, each focused on their task, and after several minutes, they began to expel themselves, their work complete.
Renjiro stood still for a moment, letting the memories flow back into him as the clones disappeared. His eyes remained closed as he processed the influx of information, piecing together the puzzle that Takao and his group had left behind.
"So they were from Takigakure?" Renjiro muttered, opening his eyes as the realization settled in.
The memories revealed that Takao and his group had been declared rogue shinobi by their village, but the ties to Takigakure were far from severed. Despite being labelled as outlaws, they still maintained a close relationship with the village, operating in the shadows. It wasn't something Renjiro had expected to find, and it raised more questions than answers.
But the ambush itself had not been planned. The group hadn't been lying in wait for him. One of their spies had spotted him travelling through the Land of Fire and had notified them immediately. They had acted on impulse, hoping to catch him off guard and collect the bounty on his head. Renjiro couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at how thoroughly they had underestimated him.
"Well, that's interesting," Renjiro said to himself, glancing down at Takao's lifeless form. "But not particularly surprising."
With a swift motion, Renjiro sealed the bodies into storage scrolls. The rogue shinobi had to have bounties on their heads, and it wouldn't hurt to collect the reward for his troubles. It was a small bonus to an already successful mission.
Though he no longer needed the practice, Renjiro decided to complete his last two missions. The tasks were straightforward, and he moved through them with ease, finishing both without any complications.
By the time he had completed the final mission, he felt a sense of closure. His proficiency in memory reading had improved, reaching a level of about eighty per cent accuracy, which he found acceptable for the time being.
As he made his way back to the village, Renjiro felt a sense of anticipation building within him.
"I can't wait to get back," he muttered, the thought of reading Ohashi's memories at the forefront of his mind. There was so much he could learn, and once he had access to those memories, he could begin experimenting with natural energy manipulation.
The village gates loomed behind as Renjiro quickly went to the mission center, where he handed over the scrolls containing the bodies of the rogue shinobi.
The attendant at the counter gave him a curious look as they counted the scrolls, clearly surprised by the number of bounties Renjiro had brought in.
"You've been busy," the attendant remarked, sliding a pouch of Ryo across the counter as payment.
Renjiro accepted the pouch with a nod, ready to leave when the attendant added, "By the way, the Jounin Commander, has been looking for you. He said you were supposed to meet him three days ago."
Renjiro paused, a slight furrow forming between his brows. "Three days ago?" he repeated, more to himself than to the attendant.
The attendant nodded. "He left word for you to meet him in three days' time."
Renjiro let out a sigh, realizing that the distance between his missions had delayed his return more than he had anticipated. "Well, I guess I have a meeting tomorrow," he muttered, already thinking ahead to what Nara Shiba might want from him.
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