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Binsu

Binsu


D-rank
Part 1




The hidden cloud village had few architectural constructions to boast, but the few that it had had fallen victim to the destructive force of a secret organisation of local criminals that sheltered their identity under the umbrella alias 'The Hive'. Buildings such as the Tower of Heaven and the Thunder Temple had been scarred with sword cuts, chips and cracks and large craters, damages that were too difficult to simply dismiss as natural disasters, but that could have quite possibly been fashioned by sharp swords, weighted hammers and other tools alike. What mind could admire such an ugly arrangement of concrete dust and rubble? Surely not the simple minded, more the sane. Still - after all the random-yet-expected attacks - no one had any idea of who was behind all of the vandalistic disturbances. The weekly reportings of missing women and children had become routine and mundane, but still no one had bothered to bat an eye at any one of the extensive list of cases. The order in which the village officials chose to deal with such impactful grievances was at best unsettling, although that had been the main reason for which Binsu, or Han, had decided to take on the perplexing task of solving The Hive Case.


Seven AM, a typical Tuesday morning on the busy streets of Kumogakure, but one not too full of routine appearances from the same faces of the public as there were a small festival-like function promised to happen sometime later in the afternoon. Local merchants chatted up passing strangers in the hopes of selling down their goods, small, academy-aged children weaved past their towering parents and found their way to somewhere troublesome and lonely whilst the occasional homeless man sat in awe of the ever-moving display. Han stood alone at a corner of one of the less-populated streets of the village, his right hand balancing the weight of a poorly-crafted sword against the ground beneath him. The sword had come with his mission briefing as one of the key pieces of evidence on the case he had, along with a poorly-lit photograph of one of the suspects who had allegedly left the weapon behind in an attempt to evacuate one of the crime scenes. Surely he'd miss his toy, so it was only right for Han to find him and return it.

Judging by the uneven weighting of the blade and hilt - and by the rough engraving of some unidentifiable creature on the blade's belly - that sword hadn't been forged by any notable blacksmith Han knew of, so it must have been purchased at some new merchant's store. Luckily enough the weather had treated him well today, as he couldn't manage to spot a single grey cloud hanging above him. The Sun had also made a generous appearance, complementary to the clear sky. The ANBU had left his Nagaya home with nothing more than his traditional ANBU armour worn under the complimentary, white ANBU cloak. His new ANBU mask, which vaguely resembled a bird, shielded his face under the cover of the hood of his cloak. Sling loosely around his back was his sheathed sword, Hada no Ken, and strapped on the back of his ANBU belt, inside his cloak, was his collapsed Fuuma Shuriken. Han wasn't too keen on wearing uniforms, which explained why he never wore his village's headband even whilst wearing his civilian clothes, however wearing his ANBU gear whilst on such high risk missions was undebatable. With the make-shift sword under the loose grip of his right hand, Han made his way slowly through the clustered crowd of people, darting his gaze from building to building until at last he saw a shop titled "Tools and Armory". What a joke.

The building’s warm, carpeted baronial interior shamed it’s condemned exterior. Shelves of mahogany wood - polished to perfection - housed a vast range of different tools and armory, none lacking a vintage touch of order and shine. Mannequins clothed with ancient samurai armour guarded each corner of the room, each with a polished sword of it’s own held firmly in it’s wooden limbs. As Han waltzed his way towards the counter he couldn’t help but dance his gaze around the painted walls of the room. Their bland colours and rough textures reminded him of his mother’s house in Sunagakure - with it’s solace atmosphere and familiar mood - he wondered if the shopkeeper and two had met before. Something lured his gaze towards the counter; the shopkeeper had appeared as if out of nowhere. His hair was a frosty shade of white and it extended past his shoulders. Through the small lenses of his glasses the man squinted his eyes towards the lonely swordsman, unsure if he had read the ‘closed’ sign or not. ”Can i help you there?” the man spoke, and instantly Han could pick up the age in his voice. Now approaching the counter with the evidence still held loosely in his hands, the ANBU confronted the man like any other suspicious man would. ”This sword,” he spoke in a different tone, courtesy of his mask, as he brought the tool up to the counter and rested it in front of the man’s gaze. ”Who did you sell it to?” He watched the man’s leathery face for any subtle signs of guilt - perhaps the twitch of an eye or the dilation of his pupils - that would hint towards the amount of truth lying in his response.

The man squinted his eyes more, were it ever possible, and reluctantly took the sword into his hands for close inspection. ”I, I cannot remember the face of the man, but i do remember handing him a sword just like this one only a few weeks ago. Han arched his eyebrow underneath the cover of his mask, but just before he opened his mouth to speak the old man continued. ”He had a short man with him, who constantly addressed him by a name, eh..” The man struggled to summon his memory, but Han was confident he was willing to tell him anything he could remember, so he gave him time. ’Today would be nice. ”Gido!” A miraculous breakthrough, it had taken the man the good part of a minute to remember but at last it had hit him. ”Ye Gido was the name he used, right before they left with the sword. They didn’t even pay for it them rascals,” and at that he had lost interest in what more the man had to say. Han waited until the man had averted his gaze, before suddenly vanishing in thin air. It would’ve taken Dyami a few seconds to realise the ANBU had disappeared, but he wouldn’t be phased at all. Oh yeah, Dyami was his name. Han had seen his name tag.

The ANBU made his way around the streets looking for the face he had seen in the picture, only this time he was also keeping his ears open for the name Gido. He heard names like Yuri, Desu and even Menma pop up whilst casually eavesdropping on the conversations of strangers, but not once did the name Gido come up. It wasn’t until he spotted a poster with the name decorated with blood stains that Han discover something new about his suspect. ’So he runs a fighting ring, exclusive to swordsmen,’ Han read the poster’s inscriptions before making his way down towards the Akako Dojo. Upon arriving he changed his appearance and masqueraded as a rich gambler. He had never been accepted faster into a function as he had there. Inside the Dojo there were multiple sword fights occurring at the same time at different parts of the large area. Sounds of metal clashing against metal and the curses that followed after added to the fierce atmosphere of the fighting rink. He was quickly escorted to the viewing chambers - a small bunker built to look over the entire dojo from an area above - where he was introduced to a few other gamblers, and Gido himself.

”Welcome gentlemen, to my exclusive symphony of unchoreographed swordplay. I’m sure you are all busy men, so let’s get right to it then. On the ground below us there are four separate fighting rings; each represents one of four classes, in ascending order of difficulty, and the highest classes require the highest minimum bids per match. Shall we start the bidding at five hundred ryo for the first ring, eight hundred for…” Han cut the man’s speech short with an unexpected comment. ”I’ll bet all the money you have i can kill every soul in this building in less than a minute. Deal?” The entire tone of the room fell silent. For once he could hear his own ambitious thoughts. Gido opened his mouth to speak, hesitated once, twice, but just before the words came out one of the other investors in the room beat him to it. ”Where is this madness coming from?” he asked, and every soul in the room was tuned in to hear the answer. ”If you don’t mind staying around to find out the truth, so be it. If you have any sense, leave this building now.” Han’s face, the one he had fashioned for his disguised, eyed down the occupants of the room with a stare as cold and emotionless as his tone of voice. It took a good long minute for anyone to react, but reluctantly one by one they all left the room in silence. All, but him. ”Are you trying to mock my establishment? Just who the hell are…” Han cut the man’s speech short once more. ”Tell me everything you know about the hive and i might just let you live,” he spoke, changing his tone of voice back and dropping his disguise to reveal his ANBU uniform, laced with all it’s authority and mystery.

”Thunder Grounds,” was all that escaped the man’s dancing  lips. ”A few of their members come here regularly to recruit more men into their group. I always ask them to leave me alone, but they always return.” The man was lying, his eyes were blinking too rapidly, something that hadn’t happened during his opening speech. He could’ve arrested the guy here and there and taken him back to headquarters for questioning, but he didn’t know what the bandits would do if they found out he had gone missing. ’Best to squeeze out of him as much information as possible,’ the ANBU thought, as he cleared his throat before asking the man more questions. ”What about the thunder grounds?” He was sure he’d fallen into the man’s trap; one doesn’t use a red herring when answering an official’s question, unless he wanted to draw attention towards the very thing he had failed to address. ”They said something about attacking the thunder grounds, but i doubt they’d be so ballsy,” Han swore he had seen the man smirk, but he accepted the man’s explanation nonetheless. ”Thank you for your cooperation.” ’You sly bastard’. And with that the swordsman vanished once more, only to reappear on the roof of some isolated building, glaring over the sight of the famous walls of the Thunder Ground Temple.

The site was without any inhabitants, at least none the naked eye could see. Han surveyed the area for brief moment, taking in it’s vacant scenery and hollow atmosphere, before leaping onto the centre of the run-down temple floor. He landed swiftly on the limestone stage, is knees bending to absorb the impact of the fall and his ankles working to quickly stabilizing his stance. After raising his stature and giving the area one last glance he soon realised why Gido had sent him here. ”Attack!” he heard the man call out from a distance, his whereabouts still unknown to the ANBU, but his presence well accompanied by the steadfast company of bandits. Four men emerged from the shadows of the broken down pillars, just east from where he stood and two more appeared from his left. He could the shuffling feet of another pair of feet from behind, roughly twenty paces away from his left another from his right. Eight men in total came charging at the lonely ANBU, none lacking in motivation and none without a weapon of some sort in their hand. Most of them wielded rusty swords, two were armed with maces and the last of the lot - and quite arguably the biggest in size - carried a war hammer between his hands. They’d all reach him within seconds, maybe longer at the pace at which they were running. Ten paces, six paces, four...The first member of the herd threw his sword in a lateral swing against the ANBU’s torso, but Han side stepped the swing with ease and regained his stance soon after. The gutsy bandit shifted his weight onto his other foot and after taking a small step forward, threw the swing back towards him. This time around Han dashed quickly towards the man and reached him in time to catch his right arm with his right hand. The man grit his teeth, but the swordsman knew better than to show mercy here. Once he had caught the man’s arm mid-swing he’d jerk his arm downwards, pulling the man towards the ground as he did so. He heard a thud and the clanking of loose metal striking the limestone floor and sliding across it’s rough texture afterwards, whilst his opponent fell face-first in the opposite direction. The siege didn’t stop there.

Han had left himself open for an attack from behind, which the man with the war hammer took as an opportunity to sneak a hefty swing of his weapon through this stranger’s back. Han felt the hammer’s disturbance in the air only inches before he ducked under it’s trajectory. He’d then quickly pounce up into a backwards spin, rotating his right leg in front of his left in order to deliver a powerful kick against the man beside him, before he could swing his massive tool again. His kick landed a mark on the man’s right shoulder; he had managed to knock him off balance but had caused not much more damage than internal bruising. After landing his spin, Han noticed a man had swung his katana towards his neck from his right using a backwards, lateral, right-hand cleave. The attempt was slow enough for him to block, but Han decided to duck under it instead whilst simultaneously reaching for the sword’s guard with his left hand and gripping the swing to a premature halt. The man acted surprised, or perhaps he really was, which slowed his reaction time too much for him to avoid Han’s timely retaliation; a right-legged roundhouse kick to the left side of his head. The kick left him unconscious as his body fell with it’s weight onto the damaged floor. Han let his arm go as it felt limp in his hand and quickly darted his gaze towards the next incoming move.

A sword came lunging towards his chest, but after twisting his torso anticlockwise and leaning away from the lunge he was able to avoid it’s path. His attacker fell into the lunge, but he was soon brought to a jerky stop by a solid knee to the gut from the ANBU. Once the man had fallen on his ass it was easy for Han to kick his worthless body away to the side using his left leg, exposing his eyes to the incoming duo’s combo. ’A sword sweep to my feet to force me into the air and another to catch my neck from above, both swinging in opposite directions. Bothersome at best. Why don’t they just throw water balloons at me instead?’ Han mused to himself, as he kicked his feet against the ground to send him sliding backwards a few meters. His attention was then brought back to the guy with the warhammer, ’This guy again,’ as he now approached the swordsman with an elevated swing towards his neck. Han swiftly pulled his Fuuma shuriken from his back, unfolding it as it swung towards his front, before catching the heavy war hammer by it’s neck in between two of it’s blades. The brute’s quirky smirk faded away into a disturbed frown as he struggled to force his hammer against the giant shuriken’s blades. The ANBU’s strength with one hand alone was enough to keep the brute from moving any closer, but after swiftly collapsing the shuriken’s blades into one and sweeping the weapon from underneath and over the warhammer form, Han left the brute to fall on his own force. ”Pathetic, he spat, taking a lot more pleasure from the fight than he should have. He had managed to force two men into submission, one into a makeshift coma, had punted the massive brute away with his strength and wit alone and was prepared to handle the rest without drawing out a single sword or wasting a drop of his chakra on their worthless lives.

The duo that had attacked him from before suddenly broke into a chase towards him and he smiled at the pathetic sight. The last two of the eight bandits he had counted from before were still nowhere to be seen, but based on their cohort’s strength he wouldn’t need to pay them any notice until they decided to attack. With his Fuuma shuriken still held firmly in his right hand, and his eyes locked on the desperate pair advancing towards him, Han glanced over at the recovering brute before darting his eyes back at the incoming duo. The closest of the pair threw a mediocre downward swing across his chest whilst the other side stepped beside him - on his right - to stand ready to intercept the ANBU during his evasion. Han purged a snicker underneath the cover of his mask before pushing his left shoulder fowards to line up with the incoming swing. His ANBU armour stopped the sword from cutting through, but it was the sudden impact of the swing that had dealt the most damage, albeit ineffective against a shinobi of his strength and endurance. At the moment of impact Han would quickly send a roundhouse kick towards the man’s neck, which would send him crashing into his partner on the right. The swordsman's foot would back towards the ground to catch his weight and re-stablise his stance.

The brute charged from behind, this time swinging his hammer above his head and threatening to force it over the Sannin's head. Han forfeited a second of stillness, before quickly spinning his head - and soon-after his entire body - around to greet his attacker. The man suddenly stopped in his tracks about two arms's reach away from the ANBU, before swinging the large mass of his hammer from behind his back, over his head down towards the Sannin's head. Both his hands gripping tightly on it's handle. Han would quickly force his weight onto the balls of his feet before kicking against the ground and forcing his body to rapidly slide forwards. He'd simultaneously twist his body ninety degrees to his left and point his right-hand-elbow towards the man's gut using his other hand for support. Half a second later he'd ram into the brute's belly and feel his elbow sink into the man's stomach. He had tried to tense his stomach muscles, but had started too late. Frozen with pain on the spot, the brute would force a loud grunt in protest, but it'd only intensify his sensitivity to the pain in his stomach. Then just as his arms were about to move Han would ram his left fist into the tall man's jaw, pushing against the ground a little to eliminate the height difference, before gripping his stiff leather jacket with the same hand and tossing the brute's body aside with such ease. The man dropped his hammer behind him as he flew through the air. It'd flip around as it fell and land with it's handle pointing to the sky, perpendicular to the ground just inches away from Han's body. The hammer would hit the ground the same time as the brute would, though it'd kick up a larger ammount of dirt as it dropped.

The final two stooges - that had decided to keep their whereabouts unkown till now - would suddenly approach the ANBU from his left and his right, each with a raiton-infused sword in either hand. They charged at a slow pace it was almost maddening to witness. As they approached the Sannin, one earlier than the other, each would throw either a downwards slash across his chest or back or an upward return whilst the other did the opposite. Han was easily able to trace the paths of each of the men's swordswings - watching one whilst keeping track of the other in his peripheral view - and easily sidestep each man's attempt with little to no effort. He dragged the dance for a little over six seconds, finally noticing a shared pattern between each man's swing arc, target and speed. In final two seconds he'd bring his right leg upwards behind him to send a kick towards the man behind him - shattering several of his ribs on either side and causing his entire ribcage to cave inwards, possibly piercing into a few of his interanl organs - all the while forcing him five meters behind him. As he felt the man's chest connect with bottom of his shoe, Han would quickly pull his leg back down to re-stabilise his stance, before ducking under the second man's incoming lateral swing towards his head and simultaneously catching his arm with his left hand. A small 'tch' sound would escape the man's mouth through his gritting teeth as he'd feel the Sannin's overpowered pull towards him. As the ghoon's body came towards him Han would send his right knee towards the side of the man's torso, breaking several bones on the right side of his ribcage and leaving his windpipe airless. "Now imagine what i could do if i tried," the ANBU called out to their cowardly leader, who thought he couldn't be seen whilst constantly peering out to see the scene of the fight from behind the cover of pillar twenty feet to his right. A second later the damaged ghoon fell to forwards towards the ground, his legs crippled from the shear excrutiating pain from his now-shattered ribs. Face frozen with shock.

Han walked over the bandit's body and let him and his fallen comrades indulge in their own painful positions. He could hear many of their whimpers and not-so-silent curses, no matter how much pain it cost them. The Sannin slowly began to make his way over towards their leader's hiding spot, but the coward took off in the opposite direction before he could reach him. 'Run. There isn't a place you can hide from me coward. His hands rolled into a pair of tightly-clenched fists and for the first time today he heard his own teeth grit against each other. He watched the running man's shadow shrink into a thin line, before breaking into near-full speed chase after him.

Binsu

Binsu


D-rank
Part 2



Han arrived at the bandit’s hideout shortly after catching up to the would-be escapee. He had shadowed his trail the entire journey, keeping a close-enough distance to avoid losing sight of his movements altogether, whilst far enough to avoid detection. The armour he donned beneath his ANBU cloak played an important role in masking his presence, effectively hiding his chakra signal from all most sensory techniques below it’s calibre, though ultimately it was his superior training in stealth that had kept him hidden for so long.

His retracted march and gentle chase behind his victim, coupled with his instinctual evasion of large open spaces and areas of high visibility made him a riddle in the face of detection and a vague blur at best. Soon enough however the two figures had arrived at the not-so-secluded location: the hidden temple: an upside-down temple underneath a cliff, rather than a specific mountain top. It made sense that they’d base their operations within the sheltered caverns of an overgrown cliff top, it’s entrance most likely hidden from unsuspecting trespassers. ‘No doubt I could just as easily find the entrance or carve one in myself, using the byakugan as a screening mechanism, but that would leave him in a far more difficult situation than I would like,’ the lone shinobi gathered his thoughts, as he fell back to observe how his victim would enter the base. The bandit made his way around a shrouded part of the mountain side, an area heavily covered by lounging boulders and tall standing trees. He placed one hand against one of the barricading boulders and a few seconds later it gave way to a narrow opening. After disappearing inside in a hurried
chase the man’s footsteps finally dyed down into an escaping echo, resonating throughout the trenches of the compound. The swordsman’s acute sense of hearing could still make out his target’s trailing footsteps, with their rapid frequency and heavy take, even beyond the now-closed-off barricade of rocks. It was then he decided to act, swiftly leaving his post and instantaneously arriving at the location of the entrance, where the man had once disappeared from.

The ANBU operative placed his open palms against the belly of the entrance before feeding a minute amount of chakra through it, surveying the material composition of the boulders in order to determine whether or not they were reinforced with any chakra. He was able to spread his chakra throughout the stone structures without resistance or disturbance, a clear sign that the boulders were more of an unconventional door than a serious barrier. ‘Amatures,’ was the internal verdict the swordsman stopped at, shortly before phasing through the stone masses as though there were mere holograms.

The other side of the cave greeted him with a tunnel vision view of the first part of the cave, with only one other exit point presenting itself at the other end of the room. Binsu knew he couldn’t proceed throughout the compound blindly following the walls that appeared before him. A visitor’s march within this cave could potentially lead him into unforseen traps that the occupants might have put as a way of weeding out those that were meant to be there, and those like him. No, the ANBU operative was too cautious for such a daring manoeuvre and a clear display of carefree planning, if even that. Forming the one-handed dragon seal, the swordsman would easily tap into the ANBU sensory range technique he had inherited with the mantle, suddenly picking up all the different conversations that were taking place within the isolated caverns of the compound. A multitude of individualized chakra signals made their locations apparent almost involuntarily, the lone swordsman counting nineteen in total within range. His nose was suddenly flooded by a tidal wave of particular odors and aromas that all radiated from different locations, but all trailed back towards his location. This somewhat secret technique gave the user an unfair advantage over those that sought to hide from it, at the expense of fooling the user into believing that the added benefits were a result of their sudden heightened senses, when in reality all it did was make the apparent that more apparent. It threw their ordinary senses at further distances, rather than amplifying their sensitivity per-say, which was the difference between being able to smell something rotting a kilometer away from your location and having your nose there in the first place. Still it remained his most underused asset within his entire arsenal of sensory abilities, as he often relied on his stolen dojutsu to shed light on the scene at hand, though it was always his first utility choice whenever he wanted to expend the least amount of resources for a similar gain. ‘One...six...twer...no seventeen, and nineteen’ Binsu bounced his senses from one end of the compound, internally marking out the various locations of all the persons he could make out with his sensory technique.

Alas the swordsman finally focused his attention towards the most saturated room within the compound, which just so happened to be the geographical center of the whole cave. ‘Hmm, not a bad place to start’. Binsu darted towards the door at the end of the hallway, cancelling his sensory technique moments before the chase, whilst simultaneously drawing his Hada-no-ken sword out towards his right side of his hip as he ran. The door gave way to his incoming left knee, bursting into a thousand splinters on impact and painting the floor on the other side with a light coating of wood chips and sawdust. After landing on his outstretched left leg, bending at the knee to dissolve the fall and counter-balancing his weight with his other leg loosely scraping along the ground below it, the swordsman’s line of site caught the appearance of a desperately confused pair of men, both having prematurely stopped in their tracks and were now looking back over their shoulders in shock. Their facial expressions held a couple stares hostage, as they tried to remaster their thoughts in time to meet the… On the other side of the room the swordsman stopped in his tracks, legs bent at the knee as he hunched forwards and braced his dominant leg against the direction of his stride for a quicker stop. With the edge of his sword now stained in blood, fresh with a trail of the crimson liquid’s free falling pearls merely inches away from hitting the ground behind him and the necks of the men it was drawn from now splitting in two across each’s jugular, Binsu advanced towards the curving corridor, leaving his victims to fall behind in a gathering pool of their own vitality.

A few seconds into his chase and the shinobi was met again by the appearance of yet another pair of unsuspecting men, this time heading towards the direction he had left and each gripping the handle of a rusted katana: a bulk order from the black markets of a neighbouring village most likely, as no such marketplace existed within the walls of his own country’s borders, under his watch. These men were more reactive than the previous lot, quickly piecing together the swordsman’s uninvited status by his mere appearance and bloodied sword. The one on his left launched a right-handed downward swing against his torso shortly after bridging the gap between the two within seconds, whilst the other dashed a meter backwards and readied his free hand to form a one-handed seal. All that left the daring bandit’s lips was a suppressed grunt when the ANBU operative met his slice with an opposing back-handed upper parry, instantly followed by a driven lunge to the neck. Each movement and counter-attack was carried out with insane precision and was met each time with a suicidally slow reaction from his clearly-weaker foe. The swordsman danced effortlessly through his opponent as though he were frozen in time, barely tapping into his full potential, withholding most of his strength throughout the whole 3 seconds, but even that was overkill. His prey collapsed with his own weight, eyes permanently frozen in shock and his blood slowly gathering beneath his fallen form to encompass his fallen form. His partner finally activated his jutsu in fear, after having witnessed the blindingly fast execution of presumably his accomplice and equal, though the transformation it had granted him did very little to stop the incoming hand. Binsu latched at the man’s frail neck and picked the man up into a choke hold, before slamming his body against the wall beside them and holding him up in interrogation. “Where is your leader?” the ANBU would speak out in his signature muffled tone, granted by his ANBU mask’s voice-altering mechanism. The man’s eyes slowly began to roll at the back of his head as he desperately fought for his breath, neck slowly collapsing under the swordsman’s deadly vice and the rest of his body going limp from the lack of oxygen. It was then that a loud, thundering march could be heard throughout the halls, originating from the other end of the hallway, the end these two bandits had come from. It sounded like a stampede of footsteps was making its way towards their location, growing louder and louder by the second. The man finally collapsed under the swordsman’s grip, his head finally slumping against his clenched fist and his hand letting go of the grip it had on his rusted katana. The metal struck the ground, but its sound was drowned out by the incoming herd, the earth beneath Binsu’s feet now vibrating and kicking up loose stones as the band drew nearer and nearer. ‘Great, at least now I don’t have to go looking for them,’ the swordsman would think to himself as he let go of the bandit’s corpse and prepared to meet the incoming horde.

Two by two they marched through the dusty hallways, eight in total and not a single one empty handed. Their heavy tread echoed throughout the chambers, growing louder and louder as they approached. Binsu caught sight of the leading pair, swords caught in between each’s hand and thick black masks covering the lower half of their faces. The rest of the pack followed closely behind, all dawning the same barbaric suit. It wasn’t until they saw the lone swordsman’s isolated figure that their march came to a sudden halt, eyes sharply darting between their fallen comrades’ lifeless expressions before landing back on the unforgiving culprit. Binsu rested his gaze on the body of men as a whole, avoiding direct eye contact with any of the individuals, as he waited for the right moment to act. “Bloody scum! Ye’ will pay fur this! was the speech that finally broke the silence, which was immediately drowned by the chorus of reaffirming chants that followed after, merely seconds before the horde broke into chase once more. This time the swordsman was prepared. He had just finished weaving the very last of the required hand signs when the mob started charging towards him, though each was unable to plant their second step before the ground below them was robbed of all its form. The men’s hearty chants died out in a sea of horrid screams as all fell into the twenty meter deep hole. A flat plane would catch their fall below, but the swordsman quickly shut the lid on the pit and began to compress the room into an impossible amount of space, squashing the horde together into a bloody three centimeters cubed box of mangled flesh and crushed bones.

As the ground sealed itself shut below his feet, Binsu suddenly broke into chase, running towards the corridors the fallen men had once emerged from. His bloodied sword still held in between his digits, and using his previous revelation with the byakugan, Binsu navigated the cavernous halls in search of the last of the bandits. He’d turn towards the faint whispers and accompanying clatters of metal striking rock and adjust his tread towards their general direction, before finally reaching the door that stood between the noisy room and himself. He counted eighteen heads before, but twelve had met their maker at the end of his judgement. ‘Six remain,’ the swordsman thought to himself, as he now activated his byakugan once more to peer inside the room before him. The same coward that had lead him to the hideout now stood before a small group of armed men with a small, red scroll in one hand and a closed fist in the other. It seemed as though he was shouting out orders to his men, occasionally pointing towards the barricaded door and darting his eyes between faces and various points around the room. He knew of the swordsman’s presence, but he was furiously rejecting his volition and insisting on his pawns to put an end to his crusade. After a few seconds had passed since his arrival, the swordsman finally observed the small group of men disperse away from their apparent leader, only to stand shoulder-to-shoulder waiting on the other side of the door in a straight line, hands tightly gripping the handles of their katanas and eyes glued on the only entrance to the room. Five men they were altogether, not counting their cowardly leader who had backed himself up against the furthest wall in fear. They all stood but a measly two meters away from the door, which made his soon-to-be attack that much more effective given the short range it had to cover.

“Heavenly attack!” the swordsman cried out, as he slammed his right palm flat against the earth follow, his body crouched low and his other hand hovering above the pommel of his hidden blade. The raiton chakra he had built up, within the chakra network that coursed through his hand, escaped into the earth in all directions in a rushed chase, quickly catching the bandits within its increasing reach in less than a second before stretching past their leader. Every figure that occupied the room froze still, their bodies fuming with residual steam as the raiton scorched the surface of their skins and left various inch-deep cuts across the soles of their feet. Their delayed cries lay in wait within the trenches of their gaping mouths, eyes stunned and all their hair standing impossibly on end. As Binsu heard the sounds of their metal striking the stone floor beneath them, their hands having given up grip over their rusty weapons, the ANBU kicked down the wooden door and burst into the room with his sword drawn to his side.

He made a beeline for the bandit that was caught in the deepest corner of the room, having recognised him as the one that had led him into the ambush that took place at the thundergrounds. Picking the man’s paralyzed body up by the throat with his free hand, the swordsman backed the coward up against the wall behind him and held him up for interrogation. “I said, you can’t hide...from me,” the ANBU spoke over the worried expression of the bandit, his grip tightening on the handle of his sword as he watched the man struggle against his chokehold. “Argh-m...shhhoo, gahht! the man desperately forced the words out, his mouth quickly filling up with his own blood. The swordsman slowly released his hold, just enough to let the man speak without giving him the chance to run away. “Omashu! alas he said, before coughing up the built-up blood and spitting it away from the ANBU’s face. The crimson tide flew out of the man’s bloodied grin and splashed onto the floor below. Binsu stared the man down until he had retained his breath, before saying, “Omashu? What does that mean?” A few seconds later the rest of his crew gave into the weights of their bodies and collapsed lifelessly onto the ground beneath them. Some dead and some merely stunned, but all unable to move themselves despite their conscious wills. “O-Omashu is our leader. We, he plans to blow up the entire village. P-uhh, he planted, he planted paper bombs around the village and only he knows where they are, the bandit stumbled over his words, fear finally taking over his senses. Binsu held his stare, the eyeless sockets of his mask peering deep into the coward’s soul as he willingly gave away what seemed to be classified information of their organisation’s plot. “And why should I believe you?” the ANBU asked rhetorically, more than confident that the man was in no position to even consider lying to him, but merely wanted to stretch the man’s case for more information. “I can show you where he is. He-he doesn’t yet know about all this, so he won’t detonate the bombs if I turn up first and lure him out for you, the bandit reasoned, his mouth still holding back big gulps of blood.

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