Konoha Notes.

Chapter 7 Battle

The moment Shinmi completed his hand seals, the ground beneath his feet suddenly sank. A hand covered in wet mud burst from the earth and clamped down on his ankle like an iron clamp.

"Oh no!"

His pupils contracted sharply as a tremendous force dragged Shinya's body down. The earth swallowed him whole, and in the blink of an eye, only his head remained above ground.

He watched helplessly as "Shuji," pierced by the poisonous needles, turned into white smoke and dissipated in the morning breeze.

Earth Release: Heart-Slaying Decapitation Technique!

and also……

Shadow Clone Technique!

Jonin?!

The mud was pressing against his body, and Shinmi struggled frantically, but a sharp pain suddenly shot through his waist and abdomen.

"Ugh..." His face contorted. Several hardwood pierced his internal organs, growing wildly inside him. Wood fibers spread through his blood vessels, puncturing his organs. With each heartbeat, new branches sprouted from the wounds.

"cough--"

Blood gushed out, staining the ground before him. Crimson blood seeped from his seven orifices, and drops of blood dripped down his chin, splashing into the soil.

"Puppet Technique, Poisoned Thousand Needles, the style of Sunagakure." Shuji's figure appeared before Shinya's head, looking down at him. "A rogue ninja?"

Shuji's voice was calm: "The villagers of Shirakawa took only a small portion, right? Where did they hide the rest? They don't seem to have it on them."

"Is there anything you want to say? Like, the reason for your defection? It'll help with the report." Shuji didn't seem to care. "Of course, if you don't tell me, I'll just make it up myself."

As the branches inside his body penetrated deeper and began to strangle him, Shinmi's eyes bulged out, bloodshot and bulging. He opened his mouth desperately, only spitting out blood and foam, making a hoarse "hoarse" sound from his throat.

"Too...too..." The hoarse voice sounded like grit grinding together, "It's been so hard...I can't see...any hope..."

The sandstorms grew stronger year by year. The demands for service remained unchanged, yet the military budget of the Land of Wind's daimyo was being cut. The war seemed endless. Meanwhile, those weak merchants lived more comfortably and prosperously than ninjas like him.

Why? The strong endure such arduous training, still struggling on the brink of life and death, while ordinary people can enjoy peace... It's unbearable...

He took advantage of the chaos of the Third World War to escape the village. He patiently waited for the secret agents who had confirmed his fate to leave, and for the storm to pass. He carefully assembled a team, selected targets, and amassed enough money to live out his remaining years in comfort.

Then, he dealt with these followers. They were the seeds of unrest. To retire peacefully, he had to clean them up... When he realized that the Shirakawa villagers couldn't hold back any longer and decided to take action, he went along with it, and everything should have been flawless.

"Why...?" Why before the finish line.

Those damned villagers! They actually hid the fact that the people tracking them were ninjas. If... if only he had known they were ninjas, he wouldn't have been so careless...

Why? If it were ninjas, it would be ordinary people coming up the mountain to deal with the thieves. Ninjas don't operate like that. For ninjas, chasing down bandits only requires investigating along the trade routes to find traces, which are then detected by their warning puppets during the ascent up the mountain, rather than being triggered by ordinary people...

The Land of Tea… the memory is vivid: boundless green fields, warm sunshine, camellias swaying in the wind. He wants to build a villa there, white walls and a red roof, breathing in the salty sea breeze every morning…

Now, everything has vanished. His vision blurred, and Shuji's figure blurred into a black silhouette in the morning light.

A flash of cold light. The head fell to the ground. The decapitation technique in his mind was complete.

Shuji took a scroll from his chest pocket, unfolded it, placed Shinya's head on it, and formed hand seals. The scroll flickered with a faint light, the head vanished, leaving only a fleeting sealing rune. Encountering a rogue ninja from another village, after defeating him, it was assumed that his head would be brought back. The intelligence squad would try to extract information. Sufficient value would result in a special reward; even without much gain, a basic subsidy would be provided.

The moment the seal was completed, Itachi appeared at the entrance of the stronghold.

"Has an agreement been reached?"

"Yes. As requested by my senior, negotiations with Shirakawa Kisuke and the person in charge have been completed. We clearly informed them that Konoha will remain silent about the Shirakawa Village matter as agreed, and will publicly declare that the bandits were wiped out by us." Itachi took out a cloth bag. "This is the property they handed over, which has been accepted as instructed."

Shuji took the cloth bag and put it away: "Clean up the scene and see if this Sand Village rogue ninja left anything behind."

"These bodies can be disposed of by the villagers later," Shuji added. Originally, keeping the bodies was intended as evidence to the Land of Rivers for their mission. Now, that's unnecessary. The head of a rogue Sunagakure ninja is enough. The intelligence team has confirmed him as the mastermind, and Konoha guarantees the completion of the commission.

For a mere C-rank mission, killing a ninja has already far exceeded the mission requirements.

Itachi approached the broken puppet on the ground, not daring to approach the main body rashly. He quickly formed hand seals, creating a shadow clone. The shadow clone cautiously approached the remains; the moment its fingers touched the wooden surface, the contact point immediately turned bluish-purple. The poison wasn't yet potent enough to cause the shadow clone to collapse, so Itachi manipulated it to speed up its movements, carefully retrieving a scroll from inside the puppet's chest cavity.

The scroll itself was not poisoned. Itachi remained cautious, having his shadow clones conduct an inspection to confirm that no traps had been triggered before his main body approached for a closer look.

"Senior, this is a sealing scroll."

"A sealed item." Shuuji nodded knowingly. "The rest of the valuables should be here." He wasn't skilled in unsealing spells, so he could only take them back to the village. He took out a specially made small sealing tube, collected some of Shinya's blood, and carefully sealed it. This was the key to breaking the seal.

Chakra is a mixture of mental and physical energy.

After learning how to refine chakra, ninjas can retain a portion of it within their cells. Therefore, ninjas can use their own blood as a summoning medium.

Similarly, blood, before it completely loses its activity, can also be used to break the seals set by its owner on items—of course, this requires an expert who is proficient in sealing techniques.

After putting the sealing scroll into his ninja tool pouch, Shuji carefully searched the entire village again. Confirming nothing was missed, he dusted off his hands, turned to the boy beside him, and smiled easily: "The mission is basically complete. Now we just need to return to the village and submit the report."

Seeing Itachi standing quietly in place, Shuji suddenly blinked: "By the way, before we go back, how about we take a stroll around Koizumi Town?"

"Transform?" Eight-year-old Uchiha tilted his head slightly, a hint of confusion flashing in his eyes.

"Now that the mission is all done, how can we not relax a bit?" Shuuji smiled and reached out to pat Itachi's shoulder lightly.

"Yes...senpai." Itachi's voice was steady.

Shuji crouched down, his gaze level with Itachi's: "This isn't an order. So you don't need to say 'yes,' just tell me whether you want to go or not."

Uchiha Itachi remained silent for a moment. The morning breeze swept across the ruins, carrying the lingering stench of blood and the fresh scent of grass and trees. His gaze seemed to pass over the broken fence, landing on the faintly visible trade route below the mountain.

"...Meatballs?" he asked softly.

"Great idea!" Shuuji stood up, stretched, and the morning light outlined his sharp features. "Let's go try the dango in Koizumi-cho. We're out and about, so we might as well bring some local specialties back with us."