CHAPTER 5: Problems Don't Need to Find You When You Throw Yourself at Them

Forest Clearing in Konoha

Early Morning

POV: Nick/Naruto Uzumaki

I found myself sitting cross-legged on the ground, observing my improvised kingdom with a mixture of satisfaction and existential concern.

My loot was perfectly arranged in what could now be considered a functional campsite. Nothing elaborate—not a five-star resort or anything—but definitely superior to sleeping directly on damp grass with only Twig-chan for company.

The waterproof tarp I'd acquired served as an improvised roof, supported by well-positioned branches. The thermal blankets were folded in a corner I'd designated as my rest area.

The cooking utensils rested beside a circle of stones functioning as a fire pit. Everything organized with an efficiency that would've made any survival instructor cry with pride.

My skills in that department during my past life had been… pathetic, to put it kindly.

Successfully setting up a camping tent without it collapsing in the middle of the night was already considered an epic victory.

Making a fire without a lighter or matches was basically incomprehensible witchcraft.

Those rudimentary abilities had improved dramatically during these months living in the elements.

Necessity, as they say, is the mother of invention.

Or in my case, the mother of learn fast or freeze your ass off, idiot.

I'd managed until now without proper resources, which was admirable considering I was basically a small child in a world where trees could kill you if you bothered them.

But now that I'd developed enough confidence in my infiltration skills to enter and exit Konoha undetected, I'd obtained everything necessary to make my continued stay in this world stop being complete shit.

Combining my old knowledge—very scarce and mostly useless—with the new ones I'd acquired, especially thanks to the trap-setting capabilities that Utility Jutsu had granted me, I managed to prepare a livable zone in the clearing.

Strategically located under a natural canopy of intertwined trees that protected the area from the elements. Wind couldn't simply tear everything away like dry leaves, and rains—however torrential—wouldn't destroy my camp in minutes.

Yes, I'd had more than one torturous experience with Konoha's weather.

Hi no kuni didn't mean warm, dry climate year-round. Storms here could get intense when they decided to show up.

All this progress—functional camp, organized supplies, established perimeter traps— completed in a single night.

I should feel euphoric. Celebrating my victory over Mother Nature and my successful career as a budding ninja thief.

Instead, I sat here like an idiot in my new outfit, blindfold and all, weighing the pros and cons of diving headfirst into a potentially very dangerous situation that could completely ruin the low profile I'd maintained until now.

The Kumo incident with the Hyūga.

Just thinking about it gave me a headache.

It should be much more complicated than what Kishimoto wrote in the original series. In fact, the mangaka didn't even give it real development in that story arc. It was basically a footnote on his part.

"Oh, by the way, a Kumo ninja tried to kidnap Hinata. Hiashi killed him. Kumo demanded compensation. Hizashi died in his place. End of story."

They didn't even mention the emissary's name. The guy was a throwaway character whose only narrative function was to die and create family drama for Neji.

The topic came up occasionally in some scenes related to the younger Hyūga to remind us that destiny is cruel or some similar philosophical bullshit, and then was never touched again.

That left me in a situation where I only knew that this very night—if the events happened at all, a risky bet in a world like this—an elite ninja would enter the Hyūga compound.

Probably more an infiltration expert than direct combat, but still a jōnin from one of the Five Great Villages.

And somehow, this guy would manage to sneak into a place full of people with eyes that could see at great distances and in almost all directions simultaneously.

Eyes that were also particularly sensitive to chakra and capable of detecting its flow with a clarity that would make most sensors cry.

And he'd manage to kidnap the clan's heiress without being detected until the final moment.

When I thought about it that way, it sounded absolutely impossible.

How the hell had he pulled it off in canon?

If I remembered correctly, Hiashi had realized it in the last moments.

But how?

Did he wake up by coincidence? Hear something? Did he have the Byakugan active while sleeping like some kind of paranoid psychopath?

Or had he simply gotten up to piss and casually noticed one of his daughters was missing?

"Oh look, Hinata isn't in her room at three in the morning. How odd. Better go investigate with lethal violence."

Hanabi should've been born by this point in the story, right?

Bad Tropes might have altered ages, but if we followed even minimally the canon, Hinata's younger sister already existed.

Which added another layer of complexity.

Would the kidnapper try to take both? Only Hinata because she was older? Had the ages changed and Hanabi didn't even exist yet?

Too many unknown variables.

I had to consider too many things here. There were too many factors to account for, too many failure points where everything could go spectacularly to shit.

First and foremost was how my intervention would affect things and what changes it would trigger.

Because some things had already happened that ensured events wouldn't remain as in canon.

An old Hiruzen commanding a weakened Konoha had to swallow his pride when Kumo began brazenly demanding reparations, threatening war if they didn't hand over Hiashi.

The old Hokage had yielded to international pressure, sacrificing Hizashi—Hiashi's twin brother—under the pretense that the Branch House seal would destroy the Byakugan anyway.

Politics disguised as inevitability.

But the one in charge here was Minato Namikaze.

The shinobi whose name in the Bingo Books had the instruction "flee on sight" because facing him was guaranteed suicide—was that shit canon or fanon?

I doubted he'd allow a war to break out—Minato was a softie like that—but I also didn't believe he'd just hand over Hizashi without more.

That man was lethal when something threatened his own.

And that already represented a massive change from canon.

What would Minato do? Negotiate? Use his reputation to intimidate Kumo? Find some elegant diplomatic solution that Hiruzen simply couldn't achieve?

Or worse, declare that Kumo could go to hell and risk a war that Konoha definitely couldn't afford?

Impossible to know.

There was also the matter of Bad Tropes infiltrating the Hyūga clan structure.

This clan had its own generous collection of problems in canon. Clan-sanctioned slavery via curse seals. Systemic abuse of the Branch House. Dysfunctional family relationships. An internal caste system more rigid than steel.

And the Bad Tropes for them consisted mainly of taking those problems and amplifying them excessively.

I hadn't seen enough of Hiashi to determine if he was simply the stoic type with a giant stick up his ass—like in the original canon—or if Bad Tropes had transformed him into a textbook abusive father who actively mistreated Hinata.

The kind of bastard who wouldn't hesitate to expel his own daughter from the clan like trash if he discovered she was associating with "the village demon." To be completely honest, that scenario would actually benefit me.

Well, more or less.

If they expelled Hinata under that context—rejected by her clan, homeless, emotionally destroyed—she'd fall directly into my arms. It was a classic Bad Trope that pairing fans used relentlessly.

Plus, that led to an important technical question: would she still be valid for the clan heiress count if they expelled her?

The Conquest Quota mission specifically required "3 clan heiresses." If Hinata officially lost that status, would she still count? Or would I have to find another heiress to replace her?

Either way, I'd prefer that scenario not happen.

I was never a big supporter of the NaruHina pairing, but I wasn't a rabid hater of the relationship either.

And I definitely didn't wish ill on Hinata.

In almost all her versions—manga, anime, movies, video games—she was a genuinely sweet person. Kind. Considerate. The type of girl who deserved good things in life, not trauma after trauma.

Of course I'd still go after her, Hinata was hottt—

Ahem

I mean, Hinata was a kunoichi with enormous completely wasted potential.

If I could train her correctly—give her the confidence and necessary techniques—she'd be an invaluable asset.

She'd also fulfill the mission requirements for clan heiress and potentially for Kage-level kunoichi if I developed her enough.

Benefits all around.

Setting aside possible plot changes and my questionable motivations for helping Hinata, there was the more immediate practical problem:

How the hell would I help prevent the disaster in the first place?

Assuming the incident happened tonight—which wasn't guaranteed but Bad Tropes tended to force dramatic events—I had to formulate a plan.

And fast.

Because unlike all my previous fights, this wouldn't be a simple confrontation with drunk civilians armed with rusty knives.

I'd been constantly begging that no ninja try to kill me.

Civilians were manageable. Predictable. Slow. Their emotions screamed their intentions long before they acted, and their untrained bodies couldn't keep pace with their violent impulses.

Beating them up was almost boring at this point.

But a Kumo jōnin specialized in infiltration… That was a completely different story.

Probably no regular ninja would manage to kill me at this point. Infinity guaranteed that. And the truly destructive jutsu—mass-destruction techniques capable of overwhelming my regeneration if I failed to raise my defenses in time—were in the hands of the villages’ most powerful shinobi.

And nobody in this world liked sharing their super special jutsu with just anyone.

So from a pure survival perspective, I'd probably be fine.

But "not dying" and "winning the fight" were two completely different things.

Jumping directly from incompetent civilians to an elite Kumo ninja?

Even if the guy wasn't a direct combat specialist—and infiltrators generally prioritized stealth over brute firepower—he was still a jōnin.

Years of training. Real mission experience. He'd probably killed more people than I'd seen in my previous life.

This would be a difficult fight to handle with my current level. I could use Blue and Red competently. My chakra control and quantity were criminally high for my age. Infinity would protect me from direct attacks.

But my real combat experience against trained opponents was exactly zero.

Beating up civilians who basically let themselves get hit didn't count as valuable experience.

And then there was the other giant problem I'd been deliberately ignoring:

The attention this would generate.

Until now, I'd managed to stay relatively under the radar.

I hadn't received a peep from my dear biological progenitors.

Whatever Danzō had done to them had been enough to force them to let me go.

But I'd felt their emotions during the entire process when ANBU took me from the room where the meeting had taken place.

Empath caught every nuance.

Kushina was devastated. Minato was shattered but resigned. Both barely held their positions while they took me away, their bodies tense with the effort of not intervening.

They hadn't abandoned me by choice.

They'd been forced.

And if the fact that I was constantly attacked by civilians was public knowledge—if Kushina knew her son was being poisoned, beaten, and generally abused in that orphanage—they would've come for me long ago.

Hokage or not, Minato wouldn't tolerate that.

And Kushina probably would've demolished the orphanage with her own hands.

Not even the Uchiha had regularly passed by the orphanage after that first time with the vagabond.

That had been pure coincidence—a patrol that happened to pass through the area just when the idiot was being discovered in the yard.

After that, someone else had been discretely collecting the civilians I left unconscious like trash in the garden.

Never the same Uchiha. Never ANBU I could recognize with their distinctive masks and chakra presences.

Just… someone.

Silently cleaning up the mess before it became a public scandal.

Clearly there was some person somewhere covering my back until now, preventing the incidents from reaching Minato's ears or becoming general village gossip.

And who had an interest in keeping me isolated from the general population?

Who would benefit from the Kyūbi jinchūriki accumulating convenient traumas that would make him easier to control or manipulate in the future?

Who possessed the necessary influence—and agent network—to suppress information and prevent it from reaching the Hokage?

Danzō Shimura.

The man, the myth, the walking mummy with messianic delusions.

It was quite ironic that up to this moment, Danzō had only been doing things that helped me.

Indirectly, of course. The old bastard definitely didn't realize his plans were backfiring spectacularly.

By keeping me isolated, he'd given me time to train without supervision.

By allowing civilians to attack me, he'd provided combat practice and motivation to develop my skills faster.

By suppressing incidents, he'd prevented me from being placed under constant surveillance that would've severely limited my freedom.

Every action designed to weaken or control me eventually resulted in the opposite.

Thanks, Danzō. Your incompetence is appreciated.

But that was precisely one of the problems with intervening in the Hyūga incident.

Even for the paranoid mummy with practically unlimited resources, it would be impossible to prevent people from knowing someone had gotten into a fistfight with the Kumo ninja inside the compound of one of Konoha's most important clans.

The Hyūga would notice. Report. Investigate.

And Minato would definitely hear about that incident because it would involve international relations.

If my participation was discovered…

Uncomfortable questions would be asked.

"How was a three-and-a-half-year-old child in the Hyūga compound in the middle of the night?"

"How did he defeat a Kumo jōnin?"

"What abilities does the jinchūriki possess exactly?"

"Why wasn't anyone supervising him?"

That last question in particular would give Danzō a very, very bad day.

And once attention was on me… Goodbye peaceful forest training.

Hello constant ANBU surveillance and possibly being taken back under official custody.

And there was no guarantee that custody would be with Minato and Kushina.

Danzō could press with support from my dear fanatics on the council for the unstable jinchūriki to be sent to "specialized training" under ROOT.

That was a nightmare I preferred to avoid completely.

So why get involved in this mess?

If I analyzed it coldly, I only saw problems.

Combat risk against superior opponent.

Potential exposure of my abilities.

Loss of anonymity.

Political complications.

And if everything really went perfectly—if I managed to prevent the disaster without being detected—no one would know I was there.

Zero recognition.

Zero rewards.

Zero tangible benefit.

So why do it?

There were only a few reasons.

But they were very, very important.

I leaned back slightly, looking toward the canopy of trees above me while organizing my thoughts.

The Bad Tropes.

That was the critical factor here.

A huge amount of Bad Tropes would activate directly as a result of this incident.

Each consequence would feed more drama, more conflict, more opportunities for the world to screw me over.

Here everything was programmed to fuck me sideways whenever it could.

Bad Tropes actively sought ways to make my life miserable, to create obstacles, to force disadvantageous dramatic situations.

All the problems that arose would involve me somehow and I'd have to resolve them.

So, wouldn't it be curious if…

I fucked up a pivotal event so badly that Bad Tropes had no foundation to stand on to activate?

That thought made me smile.

If the Kumo ninja didn't die—if he was captured alive with irrefutable evidence of attempted kidnapping—Kumo would have no moral basis to demand compensation.

They couldn't scream "you murdered our innocent emissary" when the "innocent emissary" was alive and clearly guilty of crimes against a Konoha clan.

The entire trope would collapse.

No Hizashi's death.

No additional trauma for Hinata.

No fuel for Neji's resentment.

A pivotal event completely derailed.

And that would set the pattern for how I could move through this world in the future.

It would establish a precedent.

Bad Tropes weren't inevitable. They could be subverted, redirected, or completely destroyed if I acted with enough foresight.

It was something I'd already planned before, when I thought Minato and Kushina wouldn't hand me over under any circumstances.

My original strategy had been simple: conquer Kushina and make her mine before Bad Tropes could negatively affect her.

Bring her to my side early, create loyalties the tropes couldn't easily break.

Prevention instead of reaction.

That option had been brutally cut by Danzō when he separated me from my parents.

Difficult to conquest waifus when you're a baby living in an orphanage where everyone hates you.

But this world had given me another opportunity right now.

The Hyūga incident was a second chance to implement that strategy.

I shouldn't waste it.

Besides…

Maybe I didn't want Hinata to be mistreated.

Just a little bit.

I definitely wasn't doing this primarily for her.

It was 90% strategic benefit and Bad Tropes prevention.

Maybe 85%.

Possibly 80%.

…Okay, maybe 70-30.

The point is there were perfectly logical and selfish reasons to intervene that had nothing to do with saving a small girl from being screwed by her own family if Bad Tropes decided to get to work.

Completely logical.

Nothing to do with sentimentality or morality.

Just cold pragmatism.

I stood up with a sigh, shaking my legs that had gone slightly numb from sitting so long.

The decision was made, then.

I'd intervene in the Hyūga incident.

Now I just needed to figure out exactly how to do it without ending up exposed or captured by ANBU.

Minor details.

I looked toward where the sun was beginning to rise over the horizon, tinting the sky oranges and pinks.

I still had the whole day to plan.

To observe the Hyūga compound from a distance with my eyes.

To understand how the hell a Kumo ninja planned to enter that place without being immediately detected and executed.

Because if he could find a way in without being seen… So could I.

I smiled to myself.

It was going to be an interesting night.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Several Hours Later

Location: Perimeter of the Hyūga Compound

Finding the Hyūga compound wasn't particularly difficult.

Truthfully, I thought I'd have to throw myself through the village avoiding half the world while searching for clan residence zones.

In the end, a casual encounter with a pale-eyed person—very probably from the Branch House, considering he walked alone and without escort—shopping in the commercial district was all I needed to complete my initial objective.

The Hyūga didn't seem to have the habit of activating their Dōjutsu while wandering the village doing mundane tasks.

Maybe they didn't want the general population labeling them as perverted voyeurs?

Too late for that, gentlemen.

Nick here knew perfectly well the tendencies of a certain clan heiress. And while in the canon world that could only be classified as slightly innocent stalking, in this lascivious world I seriously doubted the little Hyūga kept her thoughts completely pure.

Either way, that made it a relatively simple task to follow my target through the village, maintaining the greatest possible distance while using the numerous available alleys to avoid crowds and stay out of any direct line of sight.

When we finally started approaching a large compound—high stone walls and impeccable traditional architecture—I simply stopped following the Hyūga directly.

Instead, I abandoned the main path and headed into the wooded areas surrounding the compound's perimeter, disappearing among the trees with the ease only a small child with ninja skills could achieve.

From then on I focused exclusively on finding how to get into the place without anyone finding me, recognizing me, or deciding that executing me on the spot was an appropriate response to my unauthorized presence.

And it turned out that observing the Hyūga from a distance was simultaneously fascinating and deeply frustrating.

I was crouched on a tree branch approximately half a kilometer from the clan compound, completely motionless.

My eyes allowed me to observe the area with perfect clarity despite the considerable distance.

So I could clearly see the patrol patterns of Hyūga guards rotating in constant and meticulously coordinated shifts.

I could even distinguish which ones had their Byakugan activated at any given moment—their chakra networks glowed distinctively around their eyes when the dōjutsu was in use.

Mine didn't do that—of course my eyes worked on a completely different level.

And that was good. If any Hyūga happened to detect me accidentally with their Byakugan, at most they'd think I was a kid playing in the trees of the surrounding forest. Nothing particularly suspicious or worthy of immediate investigation.

Just a brat doing typical brat things.

And here's where I encountered the first serious problem.

Because it turned out there were always at least two or three Hyūga with active Byakugan at any moment.

Not all simultaneously—that would be a massive waste of chakra and physically exhausting even for them—but in carefully designed staggered shifts that ensured practically constant visual coverage.

One watching the northern perimeter. Another covering the south. A third making semirandom rounds through the east and west sections.

Their vision ranges surely overlapped enough to eliminate any obvious blind spots that could be exploited.

It was a security system designed specifically to prevent exactly what the Kumo ninja—and I —were trying to do.

Unauthorized infiltration with definitely questionable intentions.

So how the hell did the emissary plan to enter that place?

I'd been watching for hours, searching for patterns. Weaknesses. Something, anything that could be identified and exploited.

And slowly, very slowly, I began to notice certain things.

The Hyūga were creatures of absolutely rigid habit.

Their patrol patterns were effective but predictable to the point of being almost mechanical in their precision. They rotated every two hours exactly, as if they had synchronized internal clocks. Guards relieved each other at specific points that never varied by even a meter, following routes that had probably been established decades ago and never questioned or modified.

Comfortable routine backed by years of repetitive practice.

There were also moments—brief but definitely existent—where all guards' attention was divided or significantly reduced.

During guard changes, for example.

There was a small time margin where relief shifts seemed to exchange relevant information from the shift, reported any novelties or minor incidents from the previous period, verified everything was in order, and in that specific period their concentration was more focused on professional conversation and protocol than maintaining perfect active perimeter surveillance.

I seriously doubted the Kumo ninja—or myself, being honest—could take advantage of that absurdly reduced time period to do something significant like completely cross the guarded perimeter and penetrate deeply into the compound without being detected.

Not without speeds that would definitely draw attention even from guards without active Byakugan.

I needed to find something more substantial than a few-second window.

The more I watched the guards and their impeccably executed routines, the more difficult it seemed to penetrate their multiple, overlapping defenses.

And the more absolutely impossible seemed the achievement that the Kumo ninja supposedly would accomplish this very night according to canon events.

I was missing something crucial.

It had to be that way. There was no other logical explanation.

There was a fundamental piece of the puzzle I wasn't seeing.

I began mentally reviewing everything I remembered about this clan.

Almost 360-degree complete vision with only a small blind spot at the back of the neck.

Ability to see through various solid objects.

Extremely refined and precise chakra perception that allowed them to see complete tenketsu networks and energy flow in extraordinary detail.

Maximum vision range that supposedly extended for kilometers in master dōjutsu users. Each of these individual capabilities was a significant defensive fortress by itself.

To effectively circumvent that entire arsenal of visual abilities without being immediately detected, you'd need… What exactly?

Extremely advanced and specialized Fūinjutsu that completely hid your chakra presence from any form of sensory detection?

That existed in the ninja world, but those seals weren't available to me right now.

Or perhaps some extremely powerful jutsu specialized in stealth?

Like what the Nidaime Tsuchikage used to become completely invisible to the normal human eye while simultaneously suppressing both his visual form and chakra presence from any sensor.

I seriously considered for several minutes the genuine possibility that the Kumo emissary had direct access to something like that.

Military-grade concealment Fūinjutsu strategically combined with some special infiltration technique.

If Kumo was seriously planning an operation as audacious and potentially catastrophic as kidnapping the Hyūga clan's main heiress directly from her own fortified and heavily guarded compound…

They definitely would've equipped their special agent with absolutely all the tools, techniques and resources necessary to have at least a realistic chance of success rather than simply sending him to certain and humiliating death.

The more time I spent carefully analyzing that specific possibility, the more logical sense it made from a military planning perspective.

Maybe even— Wait a moment.

I stopped abruptly in the middle of that elaborate thought, something clicking suddenly in my brain with the subtlety of a hammer hitting a nail.

I'd just mentally mentioned one of the Byakugan's main and most prominent capabilities barely moments ago.

I think basically their eyes functioned like X-rays, right?

Progressive visual penetration that literally allowed them to see through solid walls, complete human bodies, various obstacles of multiple materials and compositions.

But crucially, seeing through as a fundamental concept automatically implied certain inherent limitations to the process.

It directly implied there were specific materials or particular densities that significantly reduced that penetrating capability.

That there were concrete and tangible things the Byakugan couldn't penetrate as easily as others without additional effort or considerable concentration.

I wanted to give myself a violent blow to the head for not having consciously considered this obvious factor much earlier.

I made an exhaustive and methodical visual review once more of the entire visible compound.

This time deliberately not focusing at all on the active patrols themselves or the repetitive movement patterns of rotating guards, but exclusively on the absolute totality of the Hyūga compound as an architectural physical structure.

The specific construction materials employed. The precise spatial distribution of multiple buildings. The variable thickness of walls and columns. The apparent density of different sections.

My eyes scanned each identifiable section, each individual building, each visible exterior and interior wall, each support column.

Looking for density anomalies. Structural inconsistencies. Constructions that seemed excessive or unnecessary.

And then I finally saw it with absolute clarity.

Obvious in painful retrospect now that I knew exactly what to look for.

I cursed silently but intensely at the twisted Bad Tropes world because I'd just found the Hyūga compound's massive structural weak point.

Something extremely stupid and revealing that vividly reminded me exactly what kind of perverted and lascivious world I was currently reincarnated in.

I hadn't paid any particular attention to it previously during my hours of passive observation because my perfect and superior eyes hadn't experienced even the slightest problem visually and completely traversing these particular structures.

For me personally, everything was transparent without exception. Each successive layer of material of any density was perfectly visible without effort. There were no real or significant obstacles to my perception.

But now that I observed carefully…

The entire extensive compound was absolutely filled—saturated, infested—with dense architectural structures distributed everywhere.

Precisely the specific type of reinforced construction that a standard traditional Byakugan couldn't easily and visually traverse without significant concentration and considerable notable effort.

Particularly thick exterior walls located in specific positions throughout the perimeter. Absolutely massive structural support columns built with extremely dense and heavy quality exceptional wood. Entire sections of residential buildings intentionally constructed with multiple successive and overlapping layers of heavy and compact material.

Why the hell were there so many architectural structures like this scattered apparently without logical pattern throughout absolutely the entire place?

I wasn't an architect, but many of those reinforced constructions were objectively and measurably excessive, completely unnecessary for the supposed practical purposes of structural support.

There was too much material. Too much reinforcement. Too much density in specific places.

I continued my detailed visual analysis with renewed interest, meticulously and carefully tracking exactly where these particular zones of abnormally high architectural density were geographically located within the compound's general layout.

And I found a definitive and clear pattern.

I could quickly identify that the overwhelming majority of said dense reinforced structures were concentrated specifically and deliberately in clearly designated private residence zones for Main House clan members.

More specifically still, built around and directly within personal private rooms.

Main bedrooms.

Private bathrooms.

Personal rest and relaxation spaces.

Each intentionally constructed with walls significantly and noticeably thicker than absolutely everything else in the surrounding compound.

There were also rooms similarly built with the same level of dense reinforcement in the Branch House's designated residential zone, though notably in significantly lesser quantity and with slightly less elaborate or costly final construction in materials.

But why would they construct the compound this wa….?

My facial expression gradually acquired a mask of total and complete emotional expressionlessness while my brain processed the information and inevitably arrived at an unavoidable conclusion.

These guys…

They'd constructed the compound this way to be able to fuck peacefully, hadn't they?

Everyone in the entire clan without exception were potential voyeurs—it inevitably came with the problematic territory of possessing hereditary eyes that could easily and comfortably see through solid walls and observe practically anything within their considerable range.

So when they originally constructed the compound generations ago, the architects deliberately and intentionally included specifically dense structures that would block the invasive Byakugan to provide residents some real and genuine privacy.

To be able to screw without having to worry that Uncle Hyūga from the distant other side of the compound would capriciously decide to activate his dōjutsu out of simple idle curiosity or boredom and obtain a completely unsolicited and unwanted explicit visual show of his relatives copulating.

Basic and fundamental sexual privacy in a clan where visual privacy was technically impossible by default without elaborate and costly architectural countermeasures.

Well, calm down, it's not a bad thing and I shouldn't judge them.

I'd also want some privacy if I knew I was one chakra pulse away from being seen balls-deep in my partner by anyone in the area.

But then I noticed something additional.

Because there were also identical dense structures located in places… decidedly strange.

Particularly hidden and secluded corners of the extensive compound that served no obvious private residential purpose or clear architectural function.

Small isolated constructions located in decorative gardens or public common areas that appeared to be superficially little more than simple ornamental gazebos or decorative structures without apparent practical utility.

Specific sections of interior perimeter walls that inexplicably had semi-enclosed alcoves built with exactly the same excessive and unnecessary architectural density.

Distributed places that definitely weren't officially designated private rooms but that clearly— painfully obvious in retrospect—had been designed to offer the same precise level of visual protection against Byakugan as legitimate private rooms.

Perfectly public but discreet zones.

For outdoor but practically hidden-from-observation romps.

These pale-eyed sons of bitches who spent their time talking about honor and nobility had completely compromised their compound's defenses.

To be able to fuck outdoors.

As if it were a confirmation from the universe itself, I could see a pair of teenagers approaching quite giggling one of the many gazebos scattered around the place.

I closed my eyes and looked away from the zone.

Sigh….

These absolute degenerates.

The complete clan collectively.

Each and every one of them without exception.

Organized degenerates with elaborate architectural planning and dedicated budget.

I lost several significant points of my previously existing faith in the noble Hyūga clan and all their supposedly carefully cultivated traditional dignity and publicly proclaimed ancestral pride.

Turns out beneath all that impeccable ceremonial pomp and unshakeable clan pride they constantly projected in public, they were basically a bunch of perverts who needed special rooms to be able to fuck in public.

The NSFW drawback was definitely doing its intended job here spectacularly.

But more important than my growing personal disillusionment with the questionable morality and private life of the Hyūga clan…

I'd just identified exactly how the Kumo ninja planned to successfully infiltrate.

And exactly how I could replicate and improve that same method for my own purposes.

Those multiple dense structures also completely blocked active security surveillance of the perimeter and internal areas.

They were effectively blind spots distributed throughout absolutely the entire extensive compound.

If you knew specifically where exactly they were located you could use them as effective mobile coverage while progressively moving deeper into clan territory.

Adhere physically to those extra thick reinforced walls. Move from dense structure to dense structure following pre-planned routes. Use "sexual privacy" zones as practical covert infiltration routes.

Brilliant in its stupid and perverted simplicity.

The clan most obsessively and paranoidly concerned about the absolute security of their precious kekkei genkai had unintentionally but inevitably created their own critical security vulnerabilities because they desperately needed spaces where they could screw freely without being observed by literally all their voyeur relatives.

I couldn't honestly decide if it was hilarious or deeply depressing.

Probably both things simultaneously in equal proportions.

But it worked absolutely for my immediate current purposes.

I smiled to myself with genuine satisfaction.

Thank you sincerely, perverted Hyūgas.

Your frequent and socially accepted carnal needs had just generously provided me the master key to infiltrate your supposedly impenetrable fortress.

Now I just had to patiently wait for night to fall completely and darkness to cover my movements.

And then the real dangerous game would begin.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

POV: Toroi Kazan - Kumogakure Emissary

Location: Hokage Tower

"Thank you very much for your hospitality, Hokage-sama," Toroi bowed with the exact deference he'd perfected over years. "I'm sure tomorrow we can reach an agreement beneficial to both villages."

Minato Namikaze returned the bow with his characteristic smile. Warm, genuine….. naive.

"Of course, Kazan-san. Kumogakure and Konohagakure have much to gain from a solid alliance."

Toroi maintained his perfect diplomatic expression while the two ANBU escorts—Okami and Taka, according to their masks—positioned themselves at his sides to accompany him out of the tower.

The journey to Hotel Takara was silent.

The ANBU left him at the entrance with professional courtesies about being available if he needed anything, then disappeared in a synchronized Shunshin.

External surveillance, then. There were no hidden microphones in the room when he inspected it after entering.

Konoha was too trusting.

He sat on the bed, watching through the window as the sun descended toward the horizon.

Soon it would be night.

And then the real work would begin.

Because Toroi Kazan wasn't a simple diplomatic emissary from Kumogakure.

That was his cover.

His true function was considerably different.

Sabotage specialist. Infiltration. Assassination.

Fifteen years perfecting those skills until becoming one of Kumo's most effective Ninjas.

Twenty-seven successful infiltrations into enemy territory. Nineteen high-value assassinations completed without a trace. Thirty-four sabotage operations that had destabilized Kumo's opponents during key strategic conflicts.

And now, the most important mission of his career.

He wasn't here to sign some peace treaty that wouldn't be worth the paper it was written on.

He was here on direct orders from the High Council to take advantage of Konoha's weakness and finally obtain one of this place's main Kekkei Genkai.

The sun sank completely below the horizon.

Toroi stood, opening his travel suitcase.

The top layer contained exactly what was expected. Clothes. Hygiene items. Documents. Ryō for expenses.

He pressed the lower left corner, activating the hidden storage seal.

The false bottom dissolved.

Infiltration suit. Featureless facial mask. Reinforced gloves and boots for chakra climbing. Kunai and shuriken without identifiable markings. Steel cables.

And a complete professional makeup kit.

Toroi carefully extracted it, opening the box to reveal its contents organized with military precision.

Hair bleach. Temporary dyes. Foundation makeup in multiple tones. Contour.

Feature-molding wax. Dermal adhesives. Colored contact lenses of various types.

The tools he'd use today.

He headed to the room's small bathroom, placing the kit on the sink.

He started with the hair.

His current appearance as Toroi Kazan, diplomatic emissary, included perfectly combed-back blue-black hair.

Quite distinctive.

He applied the bleach methodically, working the product through each strand with practiced movements. The characteristic chemical smell filled the small bathroom—acrid, penetrating, but familiar.

He waited the exact time before rinsing completely.

The water ran dark at first, carrying away the artificial dye, gradually clearing until only clean water remained.

He looked at himself in the mirror.

His natural hair was light brown, almost dirty blonde. A completely different tone that immediately changed the perception of his face.

But it wasn't enough.

He dried his hair quickly, then opened the temporary dye compartment. He selected an ash brown one—common in the area and very forgettable.

He applied it with the same methodical precision, ensuring he covered each strand uniformly.

Another rinse. Another mirror check.

Better.

Now the face.

Toroi studied his features in the mirror with critical professional eye.

Angular jaw. Straight and prominent nose. Thick, dark eyebrows. Deep hazel eyes.

He started with foundation, applying a tone half a shade darker than his natural skin. He used contour to round his angular jaw, making it less prominent.

He applied molding wax to his nose, subtly modifying the shape—widening it slightly, reducing the bridge's prominence.

The eyebrows were thinned and lightened with a combination of hair wax and lighter dye.

Finally, the contact lenses. His hazel eyes disappeared, replaced by a completely ordinary dark brown.

He stepped back from the mirror, evaluating the complete result.

The man staring back at him was a complete stranger.

Common features. Forgettable coloring. The type of face that would get lost in a crowd in seconds.

Everything in place.

He changed quickly, replacing his elegant diplomatic attire with simple, common clothing— the type any middle-class merchant or artisan would wear.

His black infiltration suit and the rest of his specialized equipment were stored in a separate storage seal—a small scroll he slipped into his jacket's inner pocket.

He'd need it later, but not now.

He checked everything one last time and waited for the signal that shouldn't be long.

A knock sounded at his door.

Not random.

A specific pattern.

Three quick knocks

Pause

Two slow knocks

Pause

One quick one

Toroi crossed the room, unlocking the door and opening it slightly.

A man stood in the hallway.

Perfectly combed-back blue-black hair. Angular jaw. Prominent nose. Thick eyebrows. Hazel eyes.

Dressed in elegant diplomatic robes identical to those Toroi had been wearing hours ago.

Toroi Kazan, Kumogakure emissary looked at him from the hallway.

He opened the door completely, allowing him to enter.

The man entered with fluid movements, closing the door behind him.

"Kenji." Toroi greeted him in a low voice.

"Commander." Kenji responded with equally reduced volume. "Everything is prepared. My room is 208. Registered three days ago under the name Takeshi Yamada, fabric merchant. Departure scheduled for tonight according to reception records."

"Luggage?"

"Minimal. A suitcase with real fabric samples in case anyone inspects. Nothing that raises suspicions."

"ANBU?"

"Two rotating surveillance on your room. Okami currently on the roof of the building across. Taka replacing him in approximately forty minutes. None watching the hotel exits—only your window specifically." Toroi nodded.

As expected.

Konoha watched the important diplomatic emissary, but didn't bother monitoring every common hotel guest.

"It's time to begin then." He said, already ready for the major operation.

"Understood." Was the simple response he received.

But the tension in the air was clear.

They looked at each other for a moment—the master infiltrator disguised as a common man, and the sleeper agent disguised as the infiltrator—two faces of the same massively complex operation.

"For Kumo." Kenji finally said.

"For Kumo." Toroi responded.

They didn't shake hands.

There were no ceremonies.

Just professionals acknowledging each other's role in the mission.

Toroi picked up the simple suitcase Kenji had brought and headed for the door.

He stopped with his hand on the handle, looking back one last time.

Kenji had already settled into the room, his posture and presence subtly changing to match that of Toroi Kazan the diplomat resting after a long day of negotiations.

Toroi exited into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

He moved toward the stairs with relaxed pace—not rushed, not suspicious, just another guest leaving the hotel.

He descended to the main lobby.

The receptionist saw him approach, smiling professionally.

"Leaving us tonight, Yamada-san?"

"Yes," Toroi responded with a friendly and slightly tired tone. "Business completed. Time to return home."

"I hope your stay has been pleasant."

"Very pleasant, thank you."

Simple and completely mundane exchange of courtesies.

He exited through the hotel's main door onto the night street.

He could feel the vigilant ANBU on the rooftops, none stopped him. None even looked at him. Their eyes were focused on the third-floor window where "Toroi Kazan" supposedly rested.

He walked casually down the street, blending with the few night pedestrians still circulating.

Two blocks later, he turned into a dark alley.

He stopped, verifying he was alone.

He activated the storage seal, pulling out his black infiltration suit and specialized equipment.

He changed quickly, transforming from common merchant to elite infiltrator in less than two minutes.

He formed the seals—Ram, Snake, Tiger—Inshi no Jutsu.

He activated his chakra suppression jutsu.

His presence reduced to practically undetectable levels.

Now the real infiltration began.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kumogakure had been coveting the Byakugan for decades.

The Byakugan. The Sharingan. Any kekkei genkai with renown from other villages.

Kumo was the strongest village militarily—numbers, training, discipline—but had always lacked significant bloodlines.

No dōjutsu of their own. No clan with inherited capabilities comparable to the Uchiha or Hyūga.

That had frustrated them for generations.

Toroi moved exclusively through dark alleys and secondary routes, avoiding main streets where occasional patrols still circulated.

Konoha looked tired even years after the Kyūbi attack.

Half-reconstructed buildings. Reduced population. Fewer shinobi patrolling than there should be.

They'd tried multiple times to obtain samples of Konoha's dōjutsu over the years.

Kidnappings during the Shinobi Wars. Covert operations. Bribes to renegades.

Each attempt had failed.

The Uchiha and Hyūga ferociously protected their genetic secrets. Corpses recovered or destroyed. Protection seals ensuring that capturing live members didn't guarantee dōjutsu access.

Kumo had been banging its head against that impenetrable wall for generations.

He used every shadow as cover, stopping frequently to verify he wasn't being followed.

Until the Kyūbi changed everything.

When news of the attack reached Kumo, the Raikage had immediately convened the High Council.

"This is our opportunity. Konoha is at its most vulnerable point since the Third War. If we're going to get their Kekkei Genkai, it has to be now."

The plan was formulated quickly.

Kumo would send "humanitarian aid"—supplies, food, materials—as a gesture of goodwill.

Mixed among all the aid would be dozens of their spies.

Toroi reached the Hyūga compound's perimeter, crouching behind a tree one hundred meters from the wall.

Konoha's security was devastated. In their attempt to maintain appearances of being the strongest village, they'd deployed most of their scarce troops on missions to project power.

Leaving the village unprotected.

Kumo's spies had entered like water through cracks in a dam.

For months they operated in the shadows. Gathering information. Studying patterns.

Identifying vulnerabilities.

From his current position he could see Hyūga guard patrols rotating in predictable patterns.

Two guards in the north section. Probably two more in the south. At least three Hyūga with active Byakugan during night shifts according to intelligence.

Originally the plan had been to attack two clans simultaneously. Uchiha and Hyūga.

But spies discovered the Uchiha were practically impossible.

The clan was isolated. They lived in their separate district. They maintained constant patrols. Their numbers had barely decreased after the fox attack—the Kyūbi had apparently avoided their district almost completely.

Plus they were extremely wary of outsiders.

Spies who tried to get too close were identified and silently eliminated.

The High Council decided pursuing the Uchiha would be a waste of resources.

So they concentrated everything on the Hyūga.

Toroi waited until the north guards completed their route and disappeared toward the east.

Exactly according to documented pattern.

He moved.

The Hyūga hadn't weakened much after the attack either, but unlike the Uchiha they weren't so tense.

Their guard was noticeably lower. They trusted excessively in their Byakugan to detect threats.

Pure arrogance.

He crossed the distance to the wall in silent sprint, reached the base and began ascending vertically using chakra.

Those pale-eyed idiots had been meticulously studied during all this time.

Spies found all their patrol patterns in the first month. They knew when guards rotated. What routes they followed. How many had active Byakugan.

They knew the guards' names. Their favorite meals. Their sleep routines. Their interpersonal relationships.

Kumo was that meticulous.

He reached the wall's top in seconds, peeking over.

The interior garden. The compound's main buildings. And there—exactly where spies indicated—a decorative gazebo built near the perimeter wall.

Dense structure. Extremely heavy wood. Multiple compacted layers.

But those bastards weren't arrogant without reason. There was a valid reason why Kumo wanted their eyes so desperately.

Even having complete guard schedules, initially it had been impossible to infiltrate.

The Hyūga never changed patterns because they didn't need to. Their Byakugan was sufficient defense by itself.

He propelled himself over the wall, falling to the other side and rolling to absorb impact.

Kumo had studied the Byakugan's strengths and weaknesses extensively for decades.

An absolute nightmare for any infiltration specialist.

The small margins found during watches simply weren't enough.

Any infiltration attempt would be detected instantly.

He moved toward the decorative gazebo, using the garden's elaborate landscaping as partial cover.

They'd been completely stalled. The opportunity window was closing—Konoha was starting to gradually recover from the attack.

The High Council had considered aborting the complete mission.

He reached the gazebo and slipped inside quickly.

From here, he was invisible to any Byakugan not specifically concentrating on penetrating this particular structure.

But then they'd discovered something incredible.

One of the spies, observing the compound, noticed something strange in the architecture.

Reported to superiors. And specialists verified it personally.

Everyone reached the same baffling conclusion:

The Hyūga residence was filled with dense structures.

Not just one or two as sensible security measures. It was absolutely saturated with them.

Decorative gazebos like this distributed through gardens without obvious functional purpose.

Apparently empty rooms within residential buildings constructed with walls double the thickness of adjacent ones.

A clan onsen completely enclosed in massive and reinforced construction.

Narrow alleys between buildings inexplicably hidden and reinforced beyond any structural necessity.

Semi-enclosed alcoves in common areas.

Small isolated constructions in secluded corners.

Sections of interior walls with hidden niches built with the same excessive density.

Distributed throughout absolutely the entire extensive compound.

Kumo knew the Byakugan's defects perfectly. The dōjutsu had significant difficulties with particularly dense structures.

*Not impossible to penetrate with sufficient concentration and chakra, but required notable effort.

During routine surveillance operations, the Hyūga didn't bother making that extra effort.

That the obsessively paranoid clan about their kekkei genkai's security had built their residential compound full of materials that blocked their defensive advantage made no sense.

Kumo analysts proposed theories.

Ancient design.

Unknown ceremonial purpose.

Simple incompetence never corrected.

Toroi didn't care about the real explanation.

Only that those dense structures were effective blind spots.

Spies had meticulously mapped each dense structure.

Identified specific routes.

Calculated exact timings.

And delivered all the information directly to Toroi.

The next structure was an empty room within the administrative building twenty-five meters to the northeast. According to intelligence, the room had been unused for months—storage for old records nobody consulted.

He waited, counting time according to documented patrol patterns.

Guards in this section would rotate in… forty seconds.

Thirty

Twenty

Ten

He launched from the gazebo, low and controlled sprint toward the administrative building.

He reached the exterior wall just as voices appeared—two Hyūga guards conversing while passing less than twenty meters from his position.

He pressed against the wall, completely motionless.

"—heard about the Kumo emissary?"

"Something. Negotiations are going well apparently."

"Hmph. I don't trust Kumo. They always target us when we cross paths."

"Hiashi-sama will know what to do if they try anything." The voices faded as guards continued their predictable route.

Toroi waited ten additional seconds, then moved.

He found the storage room's window and manipulated the latch with thin wire.

He slid inside silently.

The room was effectively full of dusty boxes containing ancient scrolls. Nobody had entered here in weeks according to the uniform dust layer on the floor.

He continued.

The next structure was more interesting—a narrow alley between two residential buildings.

Normally these spaces would be completely open and vulnerable to observation. But this one specifically had reinforced side walls and a partial roof built with the same excessive density as other structures.

It effectively formed a hidden passage through the residential section that any Byakugan would have difficulty penetrating without concentrated effort.

He moved through the alley quickly, his steps producing no sound on the stone floor.

He emerged near what spies had identified as the clan onsen.

The structure was considerably larger than others—it had to be to accommodate proper bathing facilities—but constructed completely with massively reinforced walls.

Probably for legitimate privacy.

Toroi traversed the onsen, staying glued to interior walls.

Guards passed regularly through this area—it was an important residential zone requiring constant surveillance.

As long as he remained glued to the dense structure, he was effectively invisible.

He reached the onsen's opposite side without incidents.

From here he could see his final objective—the compound's largest building, a two-story structure in the center of the residential area.

Main family residence. Where the clan's heiress candidates slept.

But there were still approximately fifty meters of relatively open space between his current position and that building.

Too exposed to cross directly.

He scanned the area until he could identify the next spot.

There—a semi-enclosed alcove in the decorative garden. Approximately halfway.

And beyond that, another ornamental gazebo.

Two jumps. Two coverage points. Then the final building.

He waited until guards in this section completed their rotation and began moving away.

He moved.

First alcove reached without problems. Small structure but sufficient to completely hide him from direct visual observation.

The walls were curiously elaborate for something that seemed purely decorative. Carved with intricate patterns.

He waited for the appropriate moment, then continued toward the second gazebo.

From here he had clear view of the main building.

Two guards visible on first floor, patrolling the exterior perimeter in their predictable route. None visible on second floor—dark windows, closed curtains.

Bedtime for the heiress candidates.

He waited until guards completed their rotation and disappeared around the building's east corner to cross the remaining space in silent sprint, reaching the main building's exterior wall without incidents.

He adhered to the wall with chakra and began ascending vertically.

Slow. Controlled. No abrupt movements that could create detectable sound or notable visual disturbance.

He reached the second floor level, stopping beside a window.

Dark.

Closed curtains.

Impossible to see inside without exposing himself.

This window corresponded to a service hallway used by domestic staff during the day.

Empty during night.

He pulled out a kunai, inserting the thin tip between the window frame and sliding it upward carefully.

The internal latch lifted with almost inaudible click.

The window opened silently—well-maintained hinges that the meticulous Hyūga apparently lubricated regularly as part of the building's general maintenance.

He slid through the opening.

His feet touched interior wood floor without producing the slightest sound.

He remained completely motionless, allowing his eyes to adjust to the deeper interior darkness.

The service hallway was exactly as spies had described. Narrow. Functional. No decorations.

Designed so servants could move efficiently without being seen or heard by the main family.

A door at the end led to the second floor's main hallway where important rooms were located.

He moved toward it, each step placed with absolute precision on floor sections his trained eyes identified as least likely to creak under applied weight.

He reached the door and pressed his ear against the wood.

Complete silence on the other side.

He opened the door a minimal fraction, barely enough to peek through the crack.

The second floor's main hallway extended in both directions.

Impeccable traditional architecture. Perfectly maintained paper shōji walls. Polished wood floors that were probably waxed weekly. Minimal lighting provided by oil lamps placed every few meters.

And there—approximately twenty meters to his left—two adjacent shōji doors.

Both closed. Both with the Hyūga clan symbol discreetly engraved on the wooden handles.

His targets' rooms.

Hinata and Hanabi Hyūga. Three-year-old twins. Still unmarked by the Hyūga Sōke no Juinjutsu—the curse seal the clan used to control and protect their bloodline.

According to collected intelligence, the clan still hadn't officially decided which twin would be designated main heiress. Both were being evaluated, observed, basically trained. The decision would come eventually—probably within one or two years when their personalities and potentials became clearer.

Until then, both remained unmarked.

Perfect for Kumo's purposes.

Toroi was about to move when he heard voices.

Distant but gradually approaching. Two people conversing in low voices while walking through the hallway from the opposite direction to his targets' rooms.

He remained completely motionless behind the service hallway's slightly open door.

"—should check on the girls once more before retiring for the night," a female voice—young, probably one of the caretakers—said with a slightly worried tone.

"You already checked them an hour ago, Natsu," another voice responded, also young but male. "They're sleeping peacefully. No need to disturb them again."

"I know, but after the reports of that strange presence detected near the outer perimeter this afternoon…"

"It was probably a wild animal that got too close. The sensors didn't detect anything unusual after the initial check. Just natural chakra fluctuation consistent with wildlife."

"Still. It'll only take a moment to verify. It's my responsibility." Toroi heard an audible sigh coming from the younger guard.

"Fine. If it'll let you sleep peacefully tonight." The voices continued approaching.

Toroi heard them clearly now through the door—the guards passed directly in front of the service hallway without stopping or looking in that direction, continuing toward the candidates' rooms.

Shfffft

"See? Sleeping completely peacefully. Hinata-sama hasn't even moved since the last check." Brief pause.

"Hmm. I suppose you're right."

"And Hanabi-sama?"

Another door sliding.

"Also sleeping deeply. See, Natsu, you worry too much."

"It's literally my job to worry about their safety."

"And they're perfectly protected. Come on, you need to rest too. Your shift ends in twenty minutes anyway."

"Alright, alright. Let's go."

The voices began moving away again, gradually fading as guards retreated from the hallway section.

Toroi waited.

Five complete minutes ensuring absolutely the guards wouldn't return for some unforeseen reason.

Complete silence reestablished in the hallway.

He exited the service hallway.

The main corridor was empty now. Silent except for the occasional sound of night wind hitting the building's exterior windows.

He moved toward the candidates' rooms with steps that literally produced no sound detectable by normal human ear.

He reached the first door—the one the young woman had verbally identified as Hinata's room during her check.

He placed his hand on the handle carefully.

He began sliding the shōji door centimeter by centimeter. No rush. No hurried sound. Patient as a snake stalking prey.

The interior room gradually revealed itself as the opening widened.

Impeccable traditional decoration typical of noble family. Futons carefully folded and stacked in a corner for daytime use. A small polished wood desk with meticulously organized calligraphy materials—brushes, ink, practice paper. Some traditional dolls arranged on a low shelf near the wall.

And there—on futon fully extended near the window with partially open curtains—a small girl sleeping.

Short, dark hair spread around her head on the futon. Delicate and soft features dimly illuminated by moonlight filtering through curtains.

Hinata Hyūga.

Completely vulnerable and unconscious of the infiltrator's presence meters away.

Toroi entered the room silently, closing the shōji door behind him with the same meticulous care.

He formed hand seals quickly—Sheep, Snake, Tiger, Boar—Suimin no jutsu.

A subtle genjutsu he'd perfected specifically for this type of situation.

It wasn't an elaborate or powerful technique. It didn't require significant amounts of chakra that could be detected by vigilant sensors. It left no obvious residual chakra signatures that could be traced later.

It was simply a small, efficient genjutsu designed to deepen existing natural sleep and keep the target unconscious for extended period without causing permanent damage or notable side effects.

Hinata's breathing became imperceptibly deeper. More regular.

Transitioning from natural sleep to induced unconsciousness without any movement or reaction indicating discomfort.

He moved efficiently, conscious that every additional second spent at this location exponentially increased detection risk.

He pulled out steel cables from his equipment bag—thin but extremely resistant, designed specifically to secure targets without causing unnecessary physical damage that could complicate transport.

He tied her small hands together in front of her with cable wrapped multiple times but not excessively tightened. Secure enough to prevent movement if she woke prematurely, but not so restrictive it would cut circulation or cause tissue damage.

He repeated the process with her ankles.

He connected the hand and ankle cables with additional cable, creating a system that would allow him to carry the child relatively comfortably over his shoulder while maintaining complete control over her extremities.

He gagged her—not because she could scream while unconscious from genjutsu, but as absolute precaution in the improbable case the genjutsu failed prematurely during exfiltration.

Once everything was finished, Toroi turned toward the door connecting this room with the adjacent one.

He opened it carefully.

The second room was practically identical in decoration and layout to the first. Same level of traditional meticulousness. Same type of orderly furniture.

But the girl sleeping on the futon was noticeably different in appearance.

Dark hair too, but considerably longer—reaching her shoulders even at this early age. Features that, though still soft and age-appropriate, showed more hardness and a small frown.

Hanabi Hyūga.

Toroi knelt beside her futon, forming the same seals and applying the same subtle genjutsu.

Her breathing also deepened, smoothly transitioning to controlled unconsciousness.

Now both were completely unconscious and wouldn't wake for several hours without external intervention.

He repeated the complete process.

Hand bindings. Ankle bindings. Connector cables. Preventive gag.

Everything appropriately secured in less than three minutes.

He returned to Hinata's room, opening the discreet closet near the wall.

He found exactly what he was looking for—a large, dark blanket probably used during colder winter months.

He spread it on the floor, placed Hinata in the center, then returned for Hanabi and placed her next to her sister.

He carefully wrapped both girls in the blanket, creating a relatively compact package he could transport over his shoulder without it being immediately obvious what it contained to any casual observer at a distance.

It was time to get the hell out of the place.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

POV: Nick/Naruto Uzumaki

"Decorative" Gazebo Within Hyūga Compound

Night (quite late)

I found myself sitting inside one of the numerous gazebos scattered throughout the Hyūga compound.

I just hoped those degenerates had cleaned it well after their recreational activities.

Specifically, I was in one located near the Main House's residence section.

Proximity was key here.

Since the emissary would be caught quickly by Hiashi—according to canon—I had to remain close enough to be in range and knock him out before the Hyūga father took care of him permanently.

While watching earlier during the day, for a moment I even thought the kidnapping simply wouldn't happen.

I hadn't seen either Hiashi or Hinata at any point.

The compound had been busy with its normal routines—guards patrolling, clan members doing their business, servants moving discreetly and of course the occasional couple heading to secluded places—but no trace of the most important characters for my plan.

That was quickly corrected roughly an hour before nightfall began.

When Hiashi appeared in my vision range carrying a rather beaten-looking Hinata.

Weren't the Hyūga supposed to train inside the compound?

You know, to not mix with the common rabble and keep their clan secrets safe.

But there was the little heiress with her clothing full of dirt and torn in some parts.

Plus quite a few bruises distributed throughout her body.

Her arms showed dark bruises. Her legs equally. Even her face had a notable scrape on her left cheek.

Unfortunately that wasn't sufficient clue to determine if Hiashi was a genuinely abusive father or simply a tough instructor.

It wouldn't be at all out of place for clan heirs—rather any child belonging to one—to begin training from very early ages in this world.

The standard for them was far above what a child from a civilian background could expect to achieve.

Neji was recognized as a Jūken prodigy before entering the academy. Sasuke was already throwing fireballs at six. Kakashi had been jōnin at twelve.

And this would doubly apply to little Hinata if we considered the notably unempathetic behavior that members of this clan constantly demonstrated with their own relatives.

So yes, Hiashi could simply be being a very demanding instructor instead of an abusive father.

Or could be both things simultaneously.

Something I couldn't determine for the moment.

After seeing them arrive, I'd stopped paying them much direct attention.

Hiashi had locked himself in his personal office and started working on a quite considerable pile of documents—probably administrative paperwork related to the clan or village.

While Hinata was taken by one of her caretakers—I remembered her from the anime, I think she was called Natsu—very probably to be properly cleaned and healed.

Since then I'd simply relaxed in the tree, patiently waiting for night to arrive so I could get inside the compound.

The emissary would surely arrive in the wee hours of the morning, when almost everyone was sleeping and surveillance was minimal.

I could afford to enter a bit earlier, avoiding guards wouldn't be a problem for me.

Entering the place became an absolute joke when you were aware of this clan's small perverted oversight and your vision was much better than theirs.

So, what exactly did I have planned to prevent Hiashi from screwing up and his brother— potentially—ending up being the one who paid in his place?

Truth is my plan wasn't particularly complicated.

I'd simply send a Red push at maximum power directly toward the infiltrator's head.

Preferably making him violently crash against one of the many hard walls generously provided by my involuntary pale-eyed servants.

If I did that to a civilian, he'd simply end up as a pretty red stain decorating the wall.

But this wasn't a civilian, he was a jōnin-level shinobi.

Surely he could survive without major problems.

He definitely wouldn't die from something so relatively small.

Right?

RIGHT?

Okay, stop judging me, dammit.

I know it sounds dumb when I put it in words.

But what do you want me to do?

I can't simply throw myself at him to do my Chucky impersonation like I did with incompetent civilians.

I definitely won't surpass him in pure physical strength.

Have you seen the general body design of Kumo ninjas?

They all have the height of professional basketball players and most look like they consume steroids like candy.

I probably won't even reach his knees with my current height—even if I'm much bigger than I should be for my age.

And something told me biting his ankles like a rabid dog wouldn't be a particularly effective strategy against a trained jōnin.

Plus, one of my main objectives was to take him down without anyone discovering me in the process.

Blue and Red are extremely fast execution. They don't leave residual chakra traces once I stop actively feeding them and also don't produce obvious visual effects that alert everyone.

With my eyes, I produce almost no detectable chakra emissions that can be seen by the Byakugan—especially if I remain inside this gazebo with dense walls that block observation… Wait.

Is that a butt plug I see lying in the dark corner?

I squinted my eyes, focusing on the object partially hidden among shadows.

THAT'S A DAMN BUTT PLUG.

Definitely, unequivocally, a butt plug.

God.

These Hyūga were even more degenerate than I thought.

And I was sitting in their outdoor sex gazebo like it was the most normal thing in the world.

I had no doubts.

I'd be taking total advantage of that in the future.

I shook my head, trying to regain focus again.

Focus, Nick. You have a kidnapping to prevent.

Anyway, back to the original topic.

Using Red—or Blue—to knock out the emissary was literally my best option.

My only realistic option, actually.

I couldn't afford to throw a half-assed or conservatively calculated blow.

If I connected the attack but didn't leave him completely out of commission, there were very real probabilities that Hiashi would simply eliminate him anyway in the resulting confusion.

But if the emissary fell in a heap in front of Hiashi—completely unconscious, clearly incapacitated, representing no immediate threat—he wouldn't finish him off instantly like it was nothing.

At minimum he'd be confused enough by the inexplicable situation not to simply aim to kill with his first reflex attack.

This would also be a perfect distraction for me to escape the compound without being detected.

I wouldn't have much time after everything exploded.

As soon as the captured intruder was reported, the entire compound would enter maximum alert status and it would be almost impossible to leave without being seen by someone.

If I didn't have access to a significantly improved version of Shunshin, I probably wouldn't even have a real chance to leave the place without being chased.

But with my current speed I should be able to disappear in the initial confusion. Now I just had to patiently wait for the emissary to arrive and the—

Huh?

I noticed an ANBU approaching.

I immediately focused on the masked figure moving quickly toward the Hyūga compound.

Why would an ANBU come at this hour of night?

It wasn't unusual for ANBU to patrol the village during night hours—even with the Uchiha still active—but specifically approaching an important clan's compound in the middle of the early morning generally meant something significant was happening.

I saw him hand a sealed scroll to one of the Hyūga guards at the compound's main entrance.

The guard accepted it with appropriate reverence, verified the seal—probably confirming it came from legitimate source—and then began moving quickly toward the compound's interior.

His body language screamed urgency.

I diverted my attention toward the main residences area, following the guard's probable trajectory.

Almost everyone in the compound was already sleeping at this late hour.

Residents' chakra networks glowed softly in my vision, most in rest states consistent with deep sleep.

Even Hiashi was no longer in his office working on that endless paperwork.

I could see him clearly resting in his bed in the main rooms.

And look at that.

There was even a female figure sleeping beside him.

Chakra network considerably smaller and less developed than Hiashi's—definitely not an active kunoichi of comparable level, surely retired—but present and stable.

Could that be Hinata's mother?

There wasn't much canonical information about that woman.

Truth is all I vaguely remembered about her is that she'd died at some point before the canon's main story started.

Kishimoto never gave her a name, detailed design, or any significant character development.

She was basically Hyūga Mother: Existed. Died. End.

Thanks for nothing, Kishimoto.

I was very tempted to make a closer inspection of the woman with my eyes.

See her facial features clearly. Confirm similarities with Hinata. Obtain information the canon never provided.

But the guard had finally reached the main residence and was heading directly toward the clan leader's room.

I could see him kneel respectfully near the closed door and knock softly but persistently.

Hiashi woke almost immediately—a veteran ninja's instincts in action I suppose—and didn't look particularly happy about the interruption.

Or maybe that was simply his normal face. Difficult to distinguish with male Hyūga.

The woman beside him also seemed to wake from the disturbance, moving slightly as if about to get up.

But after what appeared to be reassuring words from Hiashi—I seriously need to improve my lip-reading ability, another thing for the endless training list—she lay back down.

Hiashi got up, dressing quickly with practiced efficiency, and exited to attend the guard.

He received the scroll, opened it, read the contents in seconds.

His expression didn't change noticeably but his body language tensed slightly.

Whatever that message was, it was important.

Barely a few minutes later, a Hiashi completely dressed in appropriate formal attire was leaving the clan compound at a brisk pace.

And I could only watch him march off toward the village center.

Moving away from the compound.

Moving away just when I needed him in the place most.

WHAT WAS THIS SHIT?

Who the hell could call a clan leader at this absurdly late hour of the early morning and make him rush out of his house so fast?

The realization didn't take long to hit me like a freight train.

It had to be that blond idiot.

Minato.

Damn it.

Why had Minato called Hiashi at this specific precise moment?

Surely it was about some last-minute bureaucratic stupidity related to the peace treaty.

"Oh, Hiashi-san, I need you to come to the Hokage Tower immediately at three in the morning to sign these additional documents and discuss minor clauses before tomorrow's official meeting."

A treaty that was pure worthless shit if the Kumo emissary had really come to the village exclusively to take a clan heiress.

I needed Hiashi to be present in the compound to detect and stop the Kumo ninja when he attempted the kidnapping.

That was literally the complete plan.

Step one: Hiashi detects intruder.

Step two: Hiashi confronts intruder.

Step three: I knock out intruder before Hiashi kills him.

Step four: Intruder captured alive, time to get the hell out.

Except now Hiashi wasn't here to execute steps one and two.

I'd meticulously reviewed the compound all day with my eyes.

I hadn't seen any of the present ninjas have a chakra network that remotely compared to the clan leader's.

Hiashi was clearly the strongest ninja currently residing in the compound.

The clan's strongest ninjas were surely on some exterior mission for the village and those remaining as guards were strong chūnin at most.

Competent for routine security. Completely inadequate to detect on their own an elite jōnin specialized in infiltration from Kumogakure.

This was a big problem.

A very, very big problem.

I could still call the guards' attention to catch the intruder when he appeared.

Even if they were only chūnin, they should be able to stop him eventually with their superior numbers and known terrain advantage.

The Byakugan would make it almost impossible for the infiltrator to escape once detected inside the compound.

But if I did that the entire clan would automatically be on alert for potential additional infiltrators.

They'd activate emergency protocols. Seal the compound completely. Check every corner with active Byakugan.

And I definitely couldn't escape without being detected in that scenario.

They'd catch me. Interrogate me. Discover my abilities.

What do I do now?

Risk exposure to save the girls?

Or maintain my anonymity and let the kidnapping happen?

Neither option was particularly attractive. The Kumo emissary could arrive at any mome— Movement.

My attention immediately focused on a new presence entering my vision range.

Someone was approaching the Hyūga compound from the north side.

Moving quickly but in a controlled manner, using available cover, minimizing exposure.

Chakra network suppressed to levels that were barely detectable.

Definitely not a compound resident returning late.

Definitely not a guard on routine patrol.

It was him.

The Kumo emissary.

I watched with fascination as he approached the compound's perimeter wall.

He waited patiently until the guards in the north section completed their predictable rotation and disappeared toward the east.

Then he moved.

Silent sprint toward the wall. Vertical ascent using chakra. Reached the top in seconds.

He peeked briefly, verifying the interior.

Then propelled himself over the wall, falling to the other side with a roll that absorbed impact without sound.

This guy knew exactly what he was doing.

And here's where things got interesting.

Because I could see exactly where he was heading.

Directly toward one of the decorative gazebos near the wall.

He reached the gazebo and slid inside, pressing against the reinforced walls.

Yep, that confirmed it. Kumo had really discovered the Hyūga’s little problem.

The emissary was using them as a progressive infiltration route.

Moving from dense structure to dense structure. Jumping between blind spots.

I watched as he continued.

Second structure—another ornamental gazebo near an administrative building.

Third—an apparently empty room inside the building, but with inexplicably thick walls.

Fourth—a narrow alley between two residential buildings, roofed and reinforced for reasons I probably didn't want to know.

Fifth—the clan onsen, massive structure built with walls that definitely blocked observation.

Each movement was calculated with millimetric precision.

The emissary continued penetrating deeper into the compound.

Sixth structure.

Seventh.

Eighth.

He finally reached a semi-enclosed alcove in the decorative garden—approximately fifty meters from the main building where the girls slept.

From there he'd have clear view of his final objective.

He waited until guards in that section completed their rotation.

Then launched in final sprint toward the main building.

Reached the exterior wall. Began ascending vertically.

Slow. Controlled. No movements that could create sound or visual alert.

Reached the second floor. Stopped beside a window—service hallway according to his apparently detailed knowledge of internal layout.

Manipulated the latch with tool. The window opened silently.

He slid inside.

The guy was really going to do it.

I watched as he moved through the service hallway toward the door leading to the second floor's main corridor.

Waited when two guards appeared to make routine check of the girls.

The guards briefly entered the rooms, confirmed the girls slept peacefully, and retreated.

He waited five complete minutes after they left before moving.

Exited the service hallway. Approached the first room.

Slid the shōji door centimeter by centimeter.

Entered.

I could clearly see him kneel beside the futon where Hinata slept.

Formed hand seals and his chakra network pulsed briefly.

Genjutsu, probably.

Hinata’s breathing imperceptibly deepened.

The emissary then pulled out steel cables and began tying her up. Hands. Ankles. A preventive gag.

Only after securing Hinata did he move toward the door connecting with the adjacent room.

Opened it. Entered the second room.

He already had Hinata. What more was he looking for now?

And that’s when I fully processed what I was seeing.

There was another girl.

Is that Hanabi?

Chakra network practically identical in development to Hinata’s. Same approximate age. Sleeping in the directly connected room.

Twins.

Hinata and Hanabi were twins.

Not sisters with years of difference like in canon.

How many other things had changed without me noticing, simply because I’d been isolated?

Well, welcome to the club then.

Now he couldn’t help but wonder if anyone else from the Konoha 12 had arrived in this world with an extra companion.

The emissary repeated the entire process with the second girl—genjutsu first, then the bindings.

Then he wrapped both girls together in a dark blanket, creating a single transportable package.

Loaded the package over his shoulder.

Headed for the window.

Well… shit. This is actually happening.

He was really going to escape with both girls.

And I was sitting here in my contaminated gazebo watching like a useless.

What should I do?

Call the guards' attention now? But that meant getting trapped in the compound when they activated security protocols.

Let it happen? That would mean allowing two little girls to be used as breeding stock by some random bastard from Kumo.

And yes, technically I also wanted them for my eventual harem according to Conquest Quota requirements.

But there was a world of difference between eventually seducing Hinata—and now Hanabi as well—when the time was right and letting them get kidnapped to be raped over and over until they pumped out Byakugan babies.

A quite significant difference, I'd say.

The emissary exited through the window with his package, descending down the building's side.

Reached the ground. Began his exfiltration.

Moving in reverse through the same route of dense structures he'd used to enter.

And it was working perfectly.

The guards had no idea. The compound remained silent. Nobody knew the girls had been taken.

By the time they discovered the empty futons in the morning check, the emissary would be outside Konoha's boundaries.

I really didn’t have any other option, did I?

I made a decision.

I couldn't alert the guards—that would trap me here and expose my abilities.

But I also couldn't simply let this happen.

So I'd do what I apparently always ended up doing in this shit world.

Improvise something stupid and hope it worked.

The emissary was escaping toward the forests.

I'd intercept him there.

Take him down with Red as I'd originally planned—except now there'd be no Hiashi present to conveniently capture him.

I'd have to knock him out myself. Then somehow return the girls along with the unconscious emissary without being discovered.

Maybe I could leave everything strategically placed where guards would eventually find it during morning patrol.

Or drag him back toward the compound and leave him unconscious in front of the door with the girls still wrapped.

I'd see the details after successfully taking him down.

The important thing now was to act before the guy reached his extraction point and disappeared with the girls.

I stood from my position in the gazebo—definitely burning these clothes afterward, dammit, I'd stolen them recently—and moved toward the exit.

The emissary had already crossed the perimeter wall and was moving away rapidly.

But I could see him perfectly with my eyes. Following his movement through wooded zones was trivial.

I exited the Hyūga compound with the same method as the Kumo ninja.

Once outside the immediate perimeter, I used Shunshin to start getting ahead.

The world blurred around me as I moved at high speed.

The emissary had distance advantage, but he moved slowly—for a jōnin—and carefully.

I didn't need to restrain myself as much with my displacement.

Unlike him I knew there wasn't a soul nearby following us.

So I was catching up rapidly.

I made sure to widely circle his trajectory so he wouldn't see me overtake him.

Konoha's giant trees would provide excellent cover.

The dense canopy blocked most moonlight.

And there were deep shadows everywhere.

I'd also have to suppress my chakra as much as possible, it was impossible to know if he was a sensor.

I could see his route clearly through my extended perception.

Moving in relatively straight line toward the north.

Probably navigating toward where there'd be an extraction team waiting for him.

I calculated angles. Speeds. Distances.

I needed to align ahead of him to give him a perfect blow.

Two more minutes of movement at maximum speed.

I identified the ideal interception point—a small natural clearing roughly a couple of kilometers ahead of his current position.

Relatively flat terrain. Sufficient space to maneuver but insufficient for quick escape on his part.

Once I arrived, I positioned myself on thick branch behind an ancient tree at the clearing's edge, approximately six meters above ground level.

I suppressed my chakra presence as much as possible—I really loved my eyes—based on pure trained control.

And waited for him to approach.

He was increasing his speed more and more as he neared Konoha's terrain limits.

The wrapped package still over his shoulder. No indication he suspected pursuit or ambush.

Why would he suspect?

He'd executed the infiltration perfectly. Nobody had seen him. Nobody knew the girls had been taken.

He emerged into the clearing from the south side, exactly as I'd calculated.

Began crossing the open space.

This was the moment.

I focused my complete attention on him.

Specifically on his head.

I needed absolute precision here. Too much force and I'd kill him—then I'd be screwed.

Too little force and I'd simply stun him temporarily without knocking him out properly—and he'd screw me.

I had to calibrate Red perfectly to deliver sufficient force to incapacitate but not to liquefy his brain against his skull's interior.

No pressure.

The data based on my extensive training with civilians wouldn't be much help, the durability of a civilian compared to a trained jōnin was the difference between wet paper and steel.

Ninjas reinforced their bodies passively with chakra even without conscious effort.

So I needed to apply significantly more force.

But how much more exactly?

I had no experimental data on that because I'd never fought a real ninja before.

Guess and pray, that was all I had left.

The emissary was almost halfway across the clearing now.

Twenty meters distance.

Fifteen.

Ten.

Now.

I activated Red.

Space directly beside his head expanded violently, generating massive repulsive force concentrated in small area.

The effect was instantaneous and brutal.

His head snapped to the side as if hit by giant invisible hammer, his entire body following the violent momentum.

The package with the girls shot off his shoulder, flying in dangerous trajectory toward the trees.

I was already prepared.

With Blue I pulled the package immediately, altering its trajectory mid-flight.

I caught it with my technique just before it crashed, guiding it gently toward the clearing's ground instead of allowing it to slam into trunks or rocks.

The package landed with a muffled but controlled thud on relatively soft grass, rolling barely a few centimeters before stopping.

The emissary, meanwhile, literally flew several meters before crashing into a large tree near him.

CRACK

The sound of wood splintering with impact resonated through the silent forest.

His head bounced against hard bark with force that definitely caused severe concussion at minimum.

He collapsed motionless at the tree's base.

Completely unconscious.

Or so it seemed.

I remained on my branch, watching him intensely.

Breathing was slow but steady.

Enpath wasn’t giving me anything from him.

His network flickered weakly.

Erratic flow—definitely affected by the blow—but stable.

Still alive.

I waited thirty complete seconds, verifying any sign of recovery.

He didn't move. Didn't get up.

It seemed I'd succeeded.

See? A plan is only stupid if it doesn't work.

I jumped from my branch, landing silently on the clearing's ground.

I approached cautiously, ready to activate Red again if he showed any sign of recovery.

I reached the package first—needed to verify the girls were okay after that controlled but still violent landing.

I partially unwrapped it.

Two small girls. Both tied. Both gagged. Both unconscious from genjutsu.

Stable breathing. No visible damage beyond some red marks on their wrists from the cables.

Good.

I turned toward the emissary, approaching to verify his condition more thoroughly.

I knelt beside him, extending my hand toward his neck to check pulse— His eyes snapped open.

His hand shot upward faster than my small body could react, grabbing my wrist with force that made my bones crunch.

Pain exploded in my arm.

The bastard was faking being unconscious.

I hadn't activated Infinity in time—the attack was too fast, too close.

His other hand was already in motion, kunai appearing from nowhere and launching straight for my throat.

But it didn't reach me.

The kunai slowed, this time I raised my defenses in time.

Distance dividing infinitely, stopping centimeters from my skin.

But his grip on my wrist didn't stop—he already had me grabbed when Infinity activated.

He was already adjusting, releasing my wrist and forming seals with both hands at speed I could barely follow with my eyes.

I needed to gain space now.

Red was fired in panic, pushing him away from me before he completed the sequence.

The repulsion hit him in the chest, launching him back several meters.

He flew, but was already rolling on landing, recovering, getting to his feet with fluidity of someone who'd done this thousands of times.

His mask had twisted during impact, partially revealing his scarred face and cold eyes evaluating me with professional intensity.

"A damn kid," he said with grave voice. "What do they feed these tree-fuckers?" He launched himself at me.

Jōnin speed my brain barely processed.

He was a blur of movement crossing the distance between us in fraction of a second.

This guy wasn't holding back, doesn't he see he's fighting a small child?

I activated my defenses preventively.

But it was only a feint.

He quickly changed his blow's trajectory and his foot that was aiming for my head ended up connecting with my side.

Pain exploded in my torso. I felt ribs crack.

I was launched like a rag doll, flying several meters before rolling violently across the forest floor.

Each rotation was agony, my body hitting roots and stones.

Damn, I didn't have enough training with Infinity.

Looks like this wasn't a good idea after all.

I finally stopped, gasping, trying to recover the breath that had been expelled from my lungs.

Things had gotten too out of control.

He was too fast. Infinity required me to detect the attack and consciously activate the defense.

It wasn't passive yet—I lacked too much to reach that mastery level.

And against a jōnin moving at real combat speeds, my reaction time was pathetic.

I got to my feet with difficulty, spitting blood.

I'd bitten my tongue during impact—didn't matter, my regeneration would handle it.

But the emissary didn't give me time to recover.

He was already in motion again, closing distance.

Three kunai flew from his hand in triangular formation calculated to corner me no matter which direction I moved.

I used Blue to pull the kunai toward a specific point between them.

The three weapons deviated from their trajectories, being attracted toward the artificial center of gravity I'd created, colliding with each other with metallic sound and falling harmlessly to the ground.

But the throw had been a distraction.

My eyes barely detected a blur.

He was already in front of me, his true attack coming from different angle.

His fist flew straight for my face.

But it didn't connect.

His expression flickered with frustration, but he was already adapting.

A rain of blows began falling on me.

Most connected without me being able to do anything.

One particularly strong one sank into my abdomen.

Pain pierced me completely, I wasn't used to receiving blows—neither in my previous life or this one.

I needed to gain space.

I threw Red desperately, pushing him before he could chain another attack.

The expansion sent him flying violently, making him crash and destroy the trees in his path.

It wasn't enough.

He got up visibly injured—I could see I managed to break a couple ribs with that last attack.

But now he evaluated me with cold eyes.

I guess the small child who could send you to hell with an unstoppable attack was a pretty big problem, wasn't it?

The wounds he'd given me had already recovered completely.

And he'd noticed it if his eyes sweeping my body were any indication.

The Kumo ninja was much tenser.

I'd been able to stop all his ranged attack attempts until now.

But undoubtedly he noticed I didn't react well to his direct attacks.

So we were at a stalemate.

Maybe it wasn't as bad as I thought.

His blows were torture but I'd recover from them.

The real problem is if I could take him down before my chakra network reached the point where I couldn't use more abilities.

Red was my best blow.

But the bastard received two of them at my current maximum capacity without many problems.

How did he even withstand the first one?

Did he feel the attack and reinforce before receiving it?

Definitely his chakra reserve descended after I connected the second attack.

Now I was almost certain he was a sensor.

If I could give him a few mo—

The emissary began forming seals rapidly.

Raiton: Kangekiha!

I heard him announce before a wave of water surrounded by lightning exploded from his mouth, arcing toward me instantly.

I covered myself with Infinity completely.

Was he trying to test my defenses' limits?

A jutsu like this wasn't fast enough to hit me.

The electrified water crashed against the invisible barrier, surrounding me on all sides, its electricity arcing harmlessly around me before dissipating.

But I also couldn't keep my body protected this way for long.

I used Blue to pull his legs.

Barely unbalanced him for a fraction of a second.

But that was all I needed. Once more I made space explode.

This time directly above him.

The enormous weight of the attack crushed him against the ground.

Huge cracks spread around him while a layer of dust was raised.

I couldn't help but show a small smile at the success.

But the small victory was cut short when he felt how something sharp pierced him from his back.

"Graaah—!"

Followed by a kick that sent him crashing into one of the stumps of trees that were knocked down when I attacked the emissary.

SHIT SHIT SHIT

God this hurts TOO MUCH.

I had a kunai buried to the hilt in my back.

I directed my gaze to where I'd—supposedly—stamped the ninja against the ground.

The dust had settled and only a chunk of pulverized log was visible.

Kawarimi?

"This is simply incredible."

My attention returned to the ninja who was now standing next to where I'd been before receiving the kick.

A cruel and appreciative smile plastered on his face.

"Which clan do you belong to, boy?" I heard him say.

"A barrier that protects you from attacks you can detect," he started approaching me.

"You also have telekinesis you use to deflect, pull and push things." The bastard was right in front, examining me with curiosity.

"And I noticed how you regenerated from my blows," he started crouching and extending his hand toward me.

"You're blond, maybe some Yamanaka who developed a new Kekkei Genkai?"

Damn, I have to get the kunai out of my back, I can't heal with it still going through me.

"Your eyes glow strangely, perhaps a Dōjutsu, there should be a medic in the extraction squad, you'll be a good extra prize." My blindfold slipped off after that last strike, letting him see my eyes.

His hand hung suspended in air before making contact.

"Don't touch me, you fucking piece of shit." Even speaking was painful.

"Tsk, still have strength to resist?"

If I only attacked him with a concentrated Red he could dodge it again.

But for now I just needed to gain space.

Then I just had to make it explode in a way he'd have to retreat no matter what.

I gathered chakra quickly—the ninja's tension showed he'd felt it too—and then used it to feed my next attack.

A completely invisible to the normal eye expansive wave exploded over his head, expanding in all directions.

The guy retreated rapidly to avoid being caught by the attack.

The power diminished from using it that way, but the enemy ninja couldn't know that.

Now I had to get rid of the kunai.

This was going to hurt.

A strong pull from Blue made the kunai exit quickly from my back.

"Nngh!"

This sucks, but the pain would be fleeting, I could already feel how the wound's flesh was beginning to close, if the kunai was poisoned it wouldn't be a problem.

Now what?

I needed to change something. This wasn't working.

He was too fast, too experienced, too superior in pure combat skill.

Infinity only worked against attacks I could detect and process.

Blue and Red were powerful but I couldn't execute them before he escaped.

Unless I took him by surprise.

They also consumed significant chakra with each use.

Which made my network tense more and more.

My reserves could hold out enough, but my network couldn't.

He launched himself again, giving me no respite.

His attacks intensified, pressing his advantage mercilessly.

Combo after combo.

Jutsu after jutsu.

Weapons after weapons.

I blocked what I could with Infinity.

The rest hit me directly.

My body was being progressively destroyed.

Blood dripping from multiple wounds. Cracked bones. Severely bruised muscles.

Regeneration was working—I could feel my tissues repairing—but that didn't mean I didn't feel the beating they were giving me.

I used Blue to pull him when he tried to create distance for another jutsu, interrupting his seals.

And Red when he got too close, creating desperate space.

But it was pure reaction. Desperate defense. No real strategy beyond surviving the next second.

"Impressive resistance for a brat," he admitted mid-fight. "That kekkei genkai of yours is troublesome. But you have obvious limitations." He attacked me again.

With a kick destined to crush my skull.

But I could stop it.

Infinity had activated in the last possible microsecond.

I could feel space protesting, my concentration slipping.

He pressed harder, putting more force, trying to overcome the barrier through pure brute power—he wouldn’t make it—.

The guy had committed too much to this blow.

I should take advantage of it.

This time I didn't attack him directly with Red, instead I'd try something much riskier.

I generated six focal points of Blue around him.

Two of them for each of his limbs—the smallest ones—and the last ones located behind and in front of his torso.

The result didn't take long to show.

"What the hell!? L-Let go you midget shit." His body floated in the air.

His arms and legs were completely extended in X shape and he could only move his head.

Thick drops of sweat slid down my face while the tension of suppressing all a jōnin's force weighed on my chakra network.

The maximum amount of focal points I'd used at the same time until now had been two.

Going directly to six was frying my brain.

I could also feel how my eyes burned with pain.

But I couldn't waste this opportunity.

The asshole's eyes widened with alarm when I aimed my arm directly at him.

My network protested at every step while now I accumulated more and MORE chakra.

Red manifested right in front of his face.

To his eyes it glowed with great intensity, I wish the bastard could see it.

"Hey," I called the emissary's attention who kept struggling to escape.

"If you want to take something to Kumo so badly, take THIS," I said with a mocking smile while making him a gesture that would make Michael Jackson proud.

The anger showing on the shinobi's face fed my inner troll.

I didn't let him answer anything.

I immediately unleashed the explosion.

BOOM

The loud crash caused by the emissary's body while leaving a long line of destruction as it was dragged across the ground was deafening.

Almost a hundred meters of pure devastation.

And himself? He fell to his knees.

"Cough—haughk."

He spat a mouthful of blood.

Everything was pain.

I was at my limit, my regeneration kept working.

But I could observe how several of my tenketsus had exploded and were now recovering very painfully.

My spirals pulsed constantly as if they were about to burst at any moment.

And my eyes were bleeding, just like the pinkish eyes of the Uchiha when they began to fail from overuse.

If my precious eyes ended up ruined because of that Kumo bastard I'd go to his damn village and drop a Purple in the middle of it out of pure spi—

A movement caught my attention.

"This can't be happening."

My tired sight diverted to where the emissary's battered body was standing slowly from the ground.

With his right arm hanging uselessly at his side, completely broken in two distinct parts.

The suit he wore was almost completely destroyed, barely enough remained to cover his modesty.

His face disfigured after being violently dragged across the ground.

One of his eyes completely closed and the other looking at me with pure hatred.

I… could lose this fight, couldn't I?

I checked myself again and grimaced.

My network was still a mess, I doubted I could use Infinity for a good while. And at most I could only throw Blue and Red at minimum output.

This was the same ninja who'd been killed by Hiashi instantly in canon.

How was it possible he managed to tank my attack?

I tried to stand, but only managed to fall face-first to the ground.

They hadn't been particularly quiet during the fight so it was possible someone had already noticed something weird was happening in the area.

I’d fucked this up completely.

I saw Hiashi handle the guy with such ease that I believed I could also take him down safely with my current level.

And now I was neck-deep in problems.

"SHITTY BRAT, NOW YOU REALLY DID IT," the scream resonated in the forest's night tranquility.

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT TAKING YOU ALIVE ANYMORE, YOUR FRESH CORPSE WILL BE ENOUGH FOR OUR SCIENTISTS."

Ugh

With great effort I got up from the floor.

I really should've called the guards while I could.

But there was no time for regrets now.

If I lost tonight, at least I'd make sure Kumo didn't win shit.

My attention diverted again.

This time to the only part of the clearing that remained intact.

Where the girls were—who miraculously hadn't woken up with all the noise.

Then I focused on that thought through the pain's fog.

If I lost here, they were taken to Kumo anyway.

All this—all this pain—would be useless.

And I was nothing more than a spiteful and petty person.

I turned my head toward where the wrapped package still lay on the clearing's ground.

Using precise application of Blue I pulled on the sack and the bindings, specifically the knots in the cables the emissary had used.

These tensed and stretched under my weakened power's artificial force, and finally broke.

The emissary noticed—I saw his expression change, eyes widening.

"No!"

The bastard launched himself directly toward them.

But a Red—sadly weak—from my part sent him eating dirt again.

The agony of using chakra with my fucked network didn't compare with my determination to give Kumo the middle finger.

My march was slow but I managed to reach the place.

Hinata and Hanabi were still unconscious from genjutsu, surrounded by broken cables.

I placed my hands on their foreheads, sending a chakra pulse directly to their networks.

The genjutsu dissipated like smoke.

Both girls gasped simultaneously, eyes opening confusedly.

The emissary was already in motion again, launching himself toward us with desperate speed.

I fired Red backward without looking, feeling his nearby presence.

The repulsion hit him and pushed him violently, interrupting his charge.

Not so fun when you couldn't dodge them, right?

I bought seconds.

I turned toward the girls, who were staring at me with wide, unfocused eyes—still half-awake —, clearly struggling to make sense of where they were and why everything felt wrong.

Hinata was the first to start understanding the situation.

The moment her gaze flicked around and she realized she wasn’t in her room anymore, her breath hitched and her small body began to tremble visibly.

Hanabi followed a second later.

Fear was there too, but it didn’t freeze her—her jaw tightened, her hands curling into small fists as she took in her surroundings, instinct already pushing past the shock.

Frankly, the two of them looked absolutely adorable—shit situation and all—but unfortunately, we didn’t have any time to waste.

“Hey, girls,” I called out, trying to get their attention while forcing a charming smile onto my face.

Both of them stopped spiraling and focused on me instead.

It was time to put Aura of Safety to work.

“I know this might feel a bit rushed,” I said, keeping my voice as calm as possible, trying to project reassurance.

“But I need both of you to run from here immediately and go back to the Hyūga compound.” Then I pointed behind me, in the general direction where the emissary was.

“That man over there is a very bad person. He was trying to kidnap you.”

Both girls seemed to fully understand the situation after that last clarification.

Hinata opened her mouth but no sound came out, too scared to speak.

Hanabi spoke first, voice small but surprisingly firm. "Who are you?"

"Someone who doesn't want you hurt," I responded honestly. "But I don't have time for explanations. You need to move. Now."

I pointed south with my arm. "In that direction is your compound. Run in a straight line. Don't stop. Don't look back."

The emissary was already standing, evaluating the situation with those calculating eyes.

I saw his expression change—cold determination replacing any frustration.

He tried to lunge again, but with a Blue pull I made him lose balance.

“I really need you to get out of here. I’m having some trouble keeping him at bay.” I said, making a small grimace.

Hanabi reacted first, grabbing Hinata's hand and pulling her. "C-come on," she said with trembling voice. "We have to go." Hinata nodded, tears in her eyes, but got to her feet.

Both girls began running, clumsily at first—legs still numb from the bindings—but gaining speed with each step.

Haaah…

It seemed his investments into social skills had been worth it.

The girls followed his instructions without protest and ran off exactly in the direction he’d pointed.

The emissary watched them leave, his expression of complete defeat.

He knew I wouldn't let him advance, and in his state he couldn't evade my attacks even if he sensed them.

"Your death will be slow and painful, brat." I only gave him a crooked smile.

"But at least I completely screwed you over." I always get the last word hehe.

He launched himself at me.

Kunai in his functional hand aiming straight for my throat.

I couldn't dodge it. Couldn't block.

But I still had one last card.

A suicidal one.

After all, what use was worrying about my body if I was just going to lose in this place?

The emissary reached me.

His kunai descending.

I gathered every fragment of chakra I had left.

Everything.

I concentrated it in a single focal point.

Right between the two of us.

And generated Blue and Red simultaneously.

In the same point.

Attraction and repulsion collapsing against each other.

Space screeched—a sharp, unnatural sound that shouldn't exist.

And then exploded.

BOOOOOOM

The shockwave launched us both in opposite directions.

A failed attempt at Purple, I had to try it at least once.

The emissary shot backward, crashing through multiple trees.

CRACK CRACK CRACK

I was thrown in the opposite direction, hitting the ground and rolling violently.

I finally stopped.

Through my blurred vision, I saw his motionless form among the debris.

He wasn't moving.

Good.

Fuck him.

You don't mess with this world's ninja Jesus and come out smelling like roses.

Darkness swallowed me.

And I felt nothing more.

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[END OF CHAPTER 5]

Author’s Note:

As you’ve seen, the MC decided he could handle this event on his own. Unfortunately, things didn’t go quite the way he planned.

Those of you who read the first chapter should already have realized why the Kumo ninja was able to put up such a strong fight. Those drawbacks weren’t there for decoration.

This is an OP protagonist story, but the MC’s decisions—made in pursuit of more points and the chance to jump every woman he comes across—will make sure he always runs into trouble, no matter how well—or how poorly—prepared he thinks he is.