In the dark forest, it seemed as though even the sky had lost its color.
Under these conditions, ninjas could be seen frantically fleeing.
"Why? Why is Crimson' Ink here?" a rogue ninja cursed while running, recalling the legend of the figure who had never been defeated, with no survivors ever left. Fear had already taken over his face.
If he'd known this would happen, he would've never accepted the mission. He swore that if he ever saw a Konoha ninja again, he'd run as far away as possible.
That is, if he could escape.
In reality, as he watched the figure drawing closer, despair filled his eyes. The speed difference was too great.
He couldn't escape. In that case!
The rogue ninja suddenly turned, forming hand signs with his hands, his face twisted in hopelessness, shouting, "Taste my life's work!"
In the next moment, a decently powerful stream of fire shot out from his mouth, engulfing the approaching figure.
"Haha?" The rogue ninja grinned, believing he'd hit his target. Even the 'Crimson' Ink, a figure of legend, wasn't so invincible—it was all just rumors!
However, his smile froze on his face as his head separated from his body. Natsuro silently appeared beside him, glancing at the corpse.
The rogue ninja had claimed to use his life's work in desperation, so Natsuro had been cautious, using a substitution jutsu. But...
That just now was a C-rank Fire Style: Dragon Fire Technique, right? C-rank? Life's work?
Thinking about the opponent's status as a rogue ninja, it wasn't that surprising. Learning a C-rank jutsu that fit one's chakra nature was already quite an accomplishment.
That was the third one. The ninjas fleeing in this direction had all been dealt with. Time to switch to a different direction.
In the next instant, Natsuro vanished from where he stood, reappearing in a different direction. On the way here, he had thrown a few Flying Thunder God kunai in various directions.
Because, well, Natsuro had grown used to it by now. Whenever enemies saw him, they immediately ran away, which made it a hassle to eliminate them all, even though he was a speed-type ninja. Over time, he'd gotten the hang of how to use the Flying Thunder God technique.
Before arrival, he would simulate the escape routes the ninjas might take and throw Flying Thunder God kunai in those directions. After they fled, he would start by attacking the direction opposite to the one he arrived from, killing the ones running that way first, then using the Flying Thunder God to switch directions.
This was Natsuro's current method. Not overly complex, just something he'd become skilled at through repetition.
Over a year and a half, his chakra reserves had been increasing at an exceptionally fast rate. As his proficiency with the Flying Thunder God technique grew, its chakra consumption became minimal.
Under these conditions, he no longer faced severe limitations in his usage of the Flying Thunder God technique.
Without pausing, Natsuro pulled out his Flying Thunder God kunai, and with a flash of lightning, his figure once again raced forward at an astonishing speed.
Now, Natsuro's lightning acceleration didn't even produce obvious arcs of electricity anymore. At most, it would flicker briefly, leaving only a faint trail of light behind.
Nowadays, his control over his chakra had deepened even further. Despite his high chakra levels, he wasted none of it.
Soon, he spotted four figures ahead. These ninjas hadn't chosen to split up completely, probably planning to fight together if caught. Now, seeing that they had been overtaken, they stopped.
Clearly, they hadn't expected him to catch up this quickly.
The rogue ninjas, seeing the deathly figure approaching them, sword in hand, began to panic. They pulled out shuriken from their pouches and flung them at Natsuro as if their lives depended on it.
Normally, rogue ninjas were extremely frugal, hoarding money, but faced with the danger of death, what couldn't be discarded?
To their despair, Natsuro didn't even bother dodging. Lightning flickered around his body, and the shuriken, upon approaching him, seemed to hit some invisible barrier. They spun helplessly around him before falling into his hands.
Those were expensive ninja tools they had painstakingly saved up for! How did he do that?
Natsuro glanced at the pile of shuriken in his hands. Though they were poorly made, turning them in could still fetch a decent amount of money—not bad.
How did he do it? The answer was simple: magnetism. A year and a half of practicing railgun techniques wasn't just about launching projectiles. He'd also developed an electromagnetic field.
Of course, if the shuriken had been too powerful, the electromagnetic field wouldn't have been enough. But Natsuro had contingencies. Small iron fragments rotated within his magnetic field, ready to act as shields if necessary.
And if all else failed, the Flying Thunder God technique was always an option.
Now that the electromagnetic field was in play, Natsuro thought, "Why waste it?"
If anyone had been standing next to him, they would have seen a bullet-shaped piece of iron float out of his pouch, hovering in front of him.
Natsuro extended his hand, and under the terrified gaze of the rogue ninjas, flicked his finger. The electromagnetic field around him surged violently, propelling the bullet forward like a streak of light.
At the same time, he finished forming a series of hand seals.
"Ninjutsu—Shuriken Shadow Clone Technique!"
In the next instant, to the utter despair of the rogue ninjas, the single bullet, which they could barely see, multiplied into dozens of streaks of light shooting toward them.
Had it been just one, they might have tried dodging, but with so many, they had already given up.
In the blink of an eye, their bodies were riddled with holes, as though they'd been turned into sieves. Dodging? From the moment Natsuro flicked that bullet, escape was impossible. They didn't even have time to form hand seals.
Watching the scene, Natsuro thought that if "Biri Biri" saw this, she'd probably think the attack was embarrassingly weak. But for him, it was good enough for now.
When speed reaches its limit, even if it's right in front of you, can you still dodge it?
Looking at their corpses, the blood-red hue in Natsuro's eyes deepened, and he murmured to himself, "Four more."
With that, his figure disappeared again. There was no need to check the bodies. If anyone had managed to trick him under his sensory ability, then they deserved to escape.
So far, no one had been able to hide from his chakra sensing. Using ninjutsu to escape required chakra, and where there was chakra, there was no escape from his senses.
...
"Boss, do you think we've escaped?"
Elsewhere, a rogue ninja breathed a sigh of relief, speaking to the only special jonin in their group.
"Hmm, looks like we have. Seems like that Crimson Ink is just a myth," the boss replied, forcing a smile. The legend of the undefeated figure with no survivors had been too terrifying. If it were just a one-time thing, fine, but it had persisted for so long, they had no choice but to believe it.
"Exactly! Boss, you're a jonin. There's no need to fear that kid. If you took him out, just think about all the treasures he must have on him—plenty of powerful jutsu for sure!" one of his subordinates chimed in, flattering him. He didn't have the courage to go back, but talking big was well within his comfort zone.
"Haha, let's not get carried away. We'll let him live," the boss laughed, but he wasn't swayed by the flattery. After all, the Crimson Ink had killed an upper-rank jonin from a major village, something he, a mere rogue, couldn't compare to.
They had all survived this long by being cunning, but unfortunately, this time they miscalculated.
Soon, the special jonin's laughter froze, and he came to a halt, landing on the ground.
His comrades, confused, followed his lead. Then they noticed their leader's face was drenched in sweat, as if he'd seen a ghost.
Following his gaze, they saw a faint silhouette. Their hearts sank—no way, right?
They were just talking about it!
As the silhouette became clearer, the rogue ninjas' expressions mirrored their leader's shock and disbelief.
How had he gotten ahead of them? He had even been waiting for them... Was this even humanly possible? They remembered that he had first chased in the opposite direction, not theirs.
Could he have just been feigning pursuit and then circled around? But that didn't make sense.
Natsuro smiled at the last four rogue ninjas, pleased they had grouped together. It saved him the trouble of chasing them down individually.
Seeing their expressions of disbelief, he knew exactly what they were wondering. What was so surprising about him getting ahead of them?
Gripping his Flying Thunder God kunai, Natsuro spoke in an emotionless voice.
"Congratulations... you've chosen the worst possible direction."
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