Chapter 7: A cold fury awakens
Around 2 weeks had passed since Kai's first arrived in the village, and in that time, he has settled into a routine.
Each day began with rigorous training—100 sit-ups, 100 push-ups, 100 squats, and a 10-kilometer run—followed by hours of meditation as he tried to unlock the secrets of chakra. Progress was slow, but he could feel the spark within him growing stronger, more tangible.
[Name: Kai
Age: 11
Strength: 11
Speed: 12
Stamina: 7
Constitution: 8
Intelligence: 8
Chakra: 6
Affinity: Earth
Abilities: None
System Function: Stat Absorption (Steal stats and abilities from defeated enemies.)]
He had also spent time exploring the village and its surroundings, mapping out the terrain and gathering information about the bandits.
Today, however, was different. Today was the day the bandits would come to collect their monthly payment.
Kai woke early, his body tense with anticipation. He dressed quickly and joined Rumiko for breakfast, though neither of them spoke much.
The air was heavy with unease, and even Rumiko's usual warmth seemed subdued. After the meal, Kai stepped outside and positioned himself near the edge of the village, where he could observe the bandits without drawing attention.
It wasn't long before they arrived. Three men, each armed and dressed in ragged clothing, swaggered into the village as if they owned the place.
[Name: average bandit
Age: 28-46
Rank: civilian
Strength: 10
Speed: 8
Stamina: 9
Constitution: 7
Intelligence: 5
Chakra: 6
State: healthy ]
"Payment!" the scarred man bellowed, his voice echoing off the clay walls of the huts. "You know the deal. Hand it over, or we'll take it ourselves!"
A younger bandit, wiry and grinning, chimed in, "And don't think about holding back. We'll know if you do." He twirled a dagger in his hand, the blade catching the sunlight.
The third bandit, a burly man with a thick beard, lingered near the edge of the square, his eyes scanning the crowd. His gaze landed on a young girl, no older than twelve, who was clutching her father's hand.
The bearded bandit smirked and strode over, his heavy boots thudding against the ground.
"Well, well," he said, his voice low and mocking. "What do we have here?" He reached out and grabbed the girl's arm, pulling her toward him. She gasped, her eyes wide with fear.
Her father stepped forward, his voice trembling but firm. "Please, let her go. We've given you everything we have."
The bearded bandit's smirk twisted into a sneer. "Everything? I doubt that." With a swift motion, he backhanded the man across the face, sending him stumbling to the ground. The girl cried out, struggling against the bandit's grip.
Kai watched with a cold, straight face, his expression unreadable, a mask of icy detachment. His eyes, sharp and calculating, tracked every movement, every act of cruelty, but he gave no sign of the storm brewing beneath the surface.
The laughter of the bandits, the cries of the villagers, the crack of a hand against flesh—it all seemed to bounce off him, as if he were carved from stone.
He simply stood there, a shadow among shadows, observing, waiting. His stillness was unnerving, a quiet promise of something darker, something inevitable.
The bandits, drunk on their own power, didn't notice him. But the villagers did. They glanced his way, as if they sensed the storm gathering behind his cold, unyielding gaze.
Kai didn't acknowledge them. His focus was singular, his mind already working through the steps of what came next.
He would act, but not yet. Not until the moment was right. And when he did, it would be swift, precise, and without mercy. For now, he watched, a silent sentinel in the chaos, his cold straight face giving nothing away.
Once the bandits had finished their collection and began getting ready to leave, Kai slipped away to prepare.
He retrieved his kunai from its hiding place and strapped it to his belt, his hands trembling slightly with a mix of subtle excitement and adrenaline.
He then made his way to the woods, moving quickly and quietly through the trees until he found a spot along the path the bandits had taken. He climbed into a tree, positioning himself so he could see the path below, and waited.
Hours passed, and the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the forest.
The bandits still hadn't come. Kai's unease grew with each passing minute. Something felt wrong. The bandits should have returned by now.
The bad feeling in his chest intensified, and he finally decided he couldn't wait any longer. He dropped from the tree and began to run back toward the village, his heart pounding in his chest.
As he approached the village, the first thing he noticed was the silence. No laughter, no chatter, no sounds of life—just an eerie, oppressive quiet. His stomach churned as he stepped into the village square, and what he saw made his blood run cold.
Bodies. Everywhere. Villagers lay sprawled on the ground, their lifeless eyes staring up at the darkening sky. Among them were the bandits, their bodies riddled with wounds.
The scene was one of utter devastation, and Kai's mind struggled to process it. He stumbled forward, his legs moving on their own, until he found her.
Rumiko.
Kai stood there, his gaze icy and unyielding, but beneath the surface, rage simmered like a volcano ready to erupt.
His jaw tightened, his hands clenched into fists, and his breath came slow and controlled, as if he were holding back a storm. She lay near the entrance to her home, her body broken and still, her kind eyes—once so full of warmth—now empty and lifeless.
He didn't fall to his knees. He didn't weep or cry out. He simply stood there, his cold eyes scanning the scene, taking in every detail, every injustice.
His mind raced, calculating, plotting, as the rage beneath his stoic exterior burned brighter. This was a wound that would never heal, a scar that would forever mark him.
"No…" he finally whispered, his voice low and steady, but laced with a venom that could kill. "No, no, no…" Each word was a vow, a promise to himself and to her.
Whoever had done this would pay. They would suffer as she had suffered. They would know the same pain, the same helplessness, the same despair.
Kai's cold eyes flickered with something then—a spark of insanity, a flicker of fury.
He turned away from her broken body, his movements deliberate and precise. The man who had once been capable of warmth, of kindness, was gone.
In his place stood something colder, something sharper, something far more dangerous. And he would not rest until justice was served—or until the world burned trying to stop him.
Rage bubbled up inside him, hot and uncontrollable. His vision blurred, and he clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms. ' who did this.' his mind repeated over and over again. Everyone who had shown him kindness, everyone who treated him with respect. And he had failed.
As the rage threatened to consume him, a faint sound caught his attention. Movement. He froze, his senses sharpening as he turned toward the source of the noise.
In the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow shifting, creeping toward him. His hand instinctively went to his kunai, his body tensing as he prepared to fight.
The figure stepped into the dim light, and Kai's breath caught in his throat. It wasn't a bandit. It was a ninja-a young man no older than 20, his face cold and uncaring. He mutters "we seem to have missed one.".i