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"Don't hide, I see you!"
A short figure slowly stepped out from the shadow of the tree.
"What? It turns out to be just a kid!"
"Don't relax, what if it's a ninja?"
"Two??"
"This kid doesn't even have a forehead protector, so he's definitely not a ninja."
Despite such ridicule, the men did not loosen their grip on the knives, but instead held them tighter.
Because they noticed that the kid didn't show panic after seeing them and remained calm.
"Be careful, something's not right..."
One of the men warned, then looked around to see if there was an ambush.
After walking about twenty meters away from the men, Hirito finally raised his head that had been lowered.
Veins must have popped out on both sides of his eye sockets.
"Byakugan??"
"No, it's..."
Hirito didn't give him a chance to continue talking, and four shurikens flew past.
The night concealed the black shuriken, but it couldn't stop Hirito's piercing gaze.
Four men collapsed, clutching their throats.
The others were about to fight back when their eyes flashed, and Hirito's figure disappeared.
Immediately afterward, there were all kinds of screams.
"Ah! Ah!..."
"My hand..."
"He's a ninja! He's a ninja! Ah!..."
The people on the other side were just a group of tall, strong adults. They didn't have Chakra and could only perform some ordinary swordsmanship.
However, facing an elite from the most prestigious young mercenary training base in the ninja world, these adults could only meet their deaths.
There were screams, the sound of bones breaking, and the sound of knives cutting through flesh...the noises were endless.
In just under two minutes, Hirito stood there, covered in blood, holding a short blade. The bonfire was still burning beside him, but no one was left standing...
No, there was still one kneeling.
His knees had been shattered, and he looked at Hirito in horror, as if staring at a demon.
Hirito stepped on the bloody ground and spoke slowly.
"Everyone lives, and everyone dies."
"But some people not only live a humble life, they also die a humble death. That's truly worthy of pity."
The short blade was placed on the man's neck, and the edge sliced into his trachea.
"If you can kill someone, others can kill you. You must have learned that lesson by now."
"It seems you should also understand that killing and being killed are equally painful."
The blade slowly exerted force, as if slicing through a thin layer of skin.
Hot blood gushed out.
Thud!
The man fell to the ground.
Hirito threw away the short blade and looked up at the sky with a bloody face.
"Tonight...it's a bit cold."
Hyuga kenichi and Hyuga Kenjiro appeared.
When Hirito heard the sound, he suddenly turned his head, his eyes cold and indifferent, the murderous glint in his blue and white eyes still present.
Kenjiro didn't say much: "Let's go! Wash up first, then head home and take a nap."
Upon hearing this, Hirito lowered his head and looked at himself. He was covered in blood—on his clothes, hands, and pants.
He turned around silently, glanced again at the three female corpses, thought for a moment, and walked over.
He closed their eyes, squatted down, and dressed them neatly before covering their bodies.
Then Hirito returned to Hyuga Kenjiro.
"Uncle kenichi, sorry to trouble you."
Hyuga kenichi nodded slightly, formed another seal with his hand, and once more executed the same technique.
"Earth Style—Yellow Springs Marsh."
Hirito watched silently as the ground softened, like a great maw, swallowing up all the corpses.
He realized...
The previous fear, anxiety, uneasiness, panic, regret—those emotions were no longer as intense.
"Is this the power of a ninja?" Hirito murmured.
But in this quiet night, his voice seemed especially clear.
In his previous life, when he read news reports about bullies, rogues, dishonest businessmen, and major criminals, he was filled with righteous indignation, wishing he could hold a sword and bring justice to the world.
As a martial arts teacher and self-proclaimed martial artist, he had often fantasized about riding a horse in bright clothing, wielding a sword to fight injustice and protect the weak.
But he also understood clearly that in the real world, these were just illusions.
A student once asked him if martial arts could be used in actual combat.
When he saw the balance in his bank account, he felt embarrassed and finally said, "With my skills, I could maybe take on one person at most," which made the students laugh.
But tonight, for the first time in his two lives, Hirito had "tasted blood"—and had personally eliminated twenty people.
Was he scared?
Yes, a little.
However, Hirito felt that he had done nothing wrong.
Some might argue that right and wrong are subjective.
In a place like the ninja world, where human life is like grass, there is no absolute law.
"If this man lives, others will suffer from his violent bullying, so it's justified for me to kill him."
"You can't treat everyone with kindness."
"There will always be evil people in this world, and among those, some can be killed and some must be killed."
"Kindness to the enemy is cruelty to oneself."
After all, with an adult's perspective, Hirito tried hard to counsel himself to prevent issues like battlefield post-traumatic stress syndrome from developing.
(End of the chapter).
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