The wind blew across his hood which covered his red hair. His forehead protector poked out from underneath the hood. His tattoos exposed to the salt water air for everyone to see. Samuru finally made up his mind to actually go check out new weapons. Today, he was being quite indecisive. It was good that he was finally able to make up his mind. The days were too short to be careless. Plenty of his days have been constantly wasted by either travelling endlessly or just doing nothing at all. He needed to make sure that wasted time would be a thing of the past. There was so much to do and he would make plans to figure to accomplish his future goals. Samuru already started to build an arsenal of weapons. He would just need to find what would be the best thing for him. His axe and his bow had been adjusted and sharpened and were currently in a fine condition. The newest weapon to his collection was a scimitar. He was a Kirigakure shinobi after all. The sword was quite unique. Its design was quite well conceived. The only thing he hadn’t done with it was spill blood. It had been a long time since he wielded a sword, but picking it up seemed natural. It was like it was built into his genetics.
Samuru was contemplating a few other things in his head. He almost created a new technique. It was a technique that was to replicate one of the forefathers of his clan. The technique was known as the Raikiri. He only was able to read about it through other’s perspective from books. The best way he could describe it in his own words was an attack that shredded what it touched. Some material said that it was more of a jab, but he couldn’t really critique it do to him never seeing it from the creator. Samuru figured that it was an extremely condensed flow of raiton that was to be thrust into the opponent. A smile would have grew across his face, but one didn’t form. He thought that he was close, but at the same time it was like he was far away. The technique he had so far only covered his hand in lightning, but it didn’t do what he thought it would do. The technique would be in continued development until he could figure out a way to make it useable.
As he walked, he heard a cry of some kid, as he was being jacked up by what looked like street thugs. Samuru thought that he should probably intervene, but it wasn’t his fight. The kid would need to learn to fend for himself. The street thugs began throwing kicks and punches toward the boy. It was pretty sad that the boy didn’t bother to fight back. There were four of them against the one kid. It sort of reminded him when he grew up in the Land of Demons. No one did anything to stop the thugs. There weren’t too many capable fighters that were around from what he could see. It seemed like somebody would need to do something. Unfortunately, Samuru really didn’t understand what conviction was. The kid would probably need some help. Samuru huffed out a breath of air as he walked over to the thugs that were beating him in the middle of the street.
“Hey, couldn’t you have done this in an alley or something. You guys aren’t too bright are you?” Samuru started.
“Oh, a shinobi. We can deal with you next. We’ll be glad to show you a good time.”
“Is your life worth it? I’m a bit new to this whole Hidden Village thing. I’m pretty sure the new Mizukage wouldn’t mind if I cleaned up the village a bit.”
The thugs turned around and looked at him. The thugs drew their swords and dropped the kid. The kid gained some distance between the group that now formed in the street around his would be savior. Samuru drew his scimitar as its blade was held across his body. The way the men held their weapons, they had some experience with them. It flagged a bit of caution within his mind. These weren’t quite ordinary thugs. Someone at least attempted to train them in how to handle the weapons they wielded. Samuru almost wanted to keep the thugs alive just to find out who trained them and why.
The first thug came out him as he swung his blade toward him as it was parried upward. Samuru then slung his weapon downward toward the thugs neck. He would drag his blade downward cutting open the man’s neck. Samuru would then spin kick the thug to the side. The other thugs looked at Samuru and became tense. Samuru formed a fake smirk on his face trying to incite rage or some other emotion to throw them off their game. He wondered what they would do next. This was considered brief practice for him. Though, he still wasn’t going to let his guard down.
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