I Think She Looked Less Like a Person Than a Ghost

"Then I'll leave it to you all."

In the lavish reception hall on the top floor of the Heavenly Guardian Pavilion, the largest and most central building in town, the mayor, dressed in splendid robes, sat high in the main seat and received the three ninjas below.

The mayor's face, slightly gaunt from working day and night, was filled with arrogance.

Because of their status, the Ino-Shika-Cho trio from Konoha looked thoroughly humble. They bowed respectfully and replied, "Leave it to us, sir."

"Hehehe~ Then I shall look forward to the performance of Konoha's ninjas."

"Yes!" the three answered in unison.

"Oh, right. Besides eliminating the bandits nearby as soon as possible, there is another commission I would like to entrust to you three. It won't go through your village's mission hall—it will count as a private deal between us."

Hearing this, the Ino-Shika-Cho trio exchanged glances. Then the one from the Nara Clan, acting as the leader, stepped forward and asked quietly, "Sir, may I ask what the mission is?"

"For the three of you, it should be nothing more than a minor inconvenience." The mayor smiled amiably, though a cold glint flashed in his eyes. "The generous reward for the bandit-suppression mission I posted in Konoha should have been enough to attract Jonin to compete for it. One of you is a Jonin, correct?"

Though phrased as a question, he sounded certain.

Beside the mayor, his trained samurai guard swept his blade-sharp gaze back and forth over the three, trying to identify the Jonin.

However, a ninja's strength was difficult to judge from appearance and attire alone.

As a highly skilled samurai, though, he had his own method of judgment—finding the person with the strongest killing intent through their presence.

Yet none of the three gave him any sense of danger, making him snort disdainfully and arrogantly.

The Ino-Shika-Cho trio looked at one another. The Nara Clan member spoke again. "Yes, sir. I am the Jonin." He revealed his own information.

As a team, the Ino-Shika-Cho trio had worked together for years with seamless coordination, allowing them to achieve results greater than the sum of their parts. Their individual strength was almost equal; if one were too weak, he would drag down the team and become the fatal weak link in the Ino-Shika-Cho battle formation, naturally causing the team to disband.

"Then it's simple. It won't be more troublesome than suppressing bandits." Smiling like a tiger, the mayor's eyes gleamed coldly as he said indifferently, "Recently, the townspeople have complained that a particularly troublesome ninja has appeared. She is probably a twelve-year-old girl, a little runt. Not only is she an absurdly big eater, but the key issue is that she never pays when settling her bills. She gives out high-value Explosive Tags instead."

The Ino-Shika-Cho trio looked at one another, utterly dumbfounded.

In a sense, she was indeed troublesome—and bizarre. But a twelve-year-old girl probably wasn't anyone particularly formidable.

"If this continues..." If it continued, it would affect his tax treasury. Some troublesome commoners had already started using Explosive Tags to pay their taxes, which was extremely irritating.

After a brief pause, the mayor continued coldly, "You three, deal with her however you see fit."

In a secluded inn on the edge of town, Yura leaned against the windowsill, a faint smile curling her lips.

"Interesting..."

A small hand covered her right eye. From between her fingers, a strand of hair extended into the void, stretching across half the town to the mayor's Heavenly Guardian Pavilion. Beneath the eaves of its top floor, a pure black butterfly no longer than a finger elegantly fluttered its wings, silently floating through the night like a ghost.

Inside its abdomen, a scarlet eyeball turned with cold, sinister malice, watching everyone in the room.

"Sir, we accept this mission."

The voices turned into invisible sound waves that rippled through the air. The faint ripples brushed against the pure black butterfly beneath the night sky, and the vibrations traveled through the strand of hair, translating into the conversation within Yura's mind.

Black Secret Technique: Hell Butterfly Technique

The butterflies that traveled between the world of the living and the Soul Society in the Death God realm were responsible for relaying information, guiding Death Gods and delivering messages.

Yura raised her head and looked toward the Heavenly Guardian Pavilion. Within the hollow darkness of her right eye socket, something eerie and terrifying lurked. In the distance, the scarlet eye turned, its gaze settling on the blond Yamanaka Clan youth.

It seemed he had not sensed Yura's presence.

Still, to be safe, the gaze only passed over him briefly, avoiding the human instinct to sense someone watching.

"However, sir, this mission involves fighting a ninja, and we cannot determine her rank or origins. Ninjas are beyond ordinary logic; we cannot judge a target by the standards used for children. The difficulty of this mission is at least A-rank." Since it was a private transaction, Konoha's reputation was irrelevant. A shrewd, calculating gleam flashed through the Nara Clan member's eyes.

In short, pay more.

"Hehehe..." After a low chuckle, the mayor said, "Bring me her head!"

The Nara Clan member bowed, his gaze cold as he said, "I guarantee in Konoha's name that we will complete the mission."

The scarlet eye turned, sweeping over the Ino-Shika-Cho trio, the samurai, and the mayor one by one, as though looking at corpses.

The mayor waved his hand to dismiss them.

The three answered energetically, then followed the maid waiting outside and took their leave.

The butterfly flew back through the night sky and lightly landed on Yura's fingertip.

Looking at herself through herself was rather strange and interesting. She could even use it as a mirror.

With a flick of her finger, the Hell Butterfly beat its wings and flew up, settling in Yura's eye socket. It slipped back inside as the strand of hair withdrew from her face, and the eyeball returned to its place.

Yura rubbed her eyes. Cool moonlight poured down over her, making her pale skin seem to glow. She stretched lazily, flipped down from the window, and dove headfirst onto the bed.

The next morning, the Ino-Shika-Cho trio left town. Sitting atop the city wall, Yura watched their backs recede into the distance.

By dusk, the bloodstained trio returned in high spirits, chatting and laughing.

The C-rank bandit-suppression mission had been completed with ease.

There was nothing wrong with picking the softest persimmon first.

Yura watched the three return from atop the city wall but did not follow them. They were merely wandering samurai; Human Bullet Tank alone could easily slaughter them all. There was simply no useful intelligence to gather.

On the second day, the Ino-Shika-Cho trio began secretly investigating Yura's information throughout town.

Following the clues and list provided by the mayor, they found people who had come into contact with Yura.

Most were restaurant owners, and based on the information, they quickly pinpointed Yura's lodging.

Yura sat atop the city wall with her back to town, softly humming as her little feet swung gently in midair. She paid no attention to the three men's actions.

"Strange..." Looking over the information recorded in his notebook, Pineapple Head furrowed his brow.

"What's strange? Is it that she has a large number of Explosive Tags?" The Akimichi Clan member asked indistinctly while holding a pig trotter.

The Yamanaka beside him looked at him as though he were an idiot and let out a soft sigh.

"No..." The Nara Clan member shook his head, frowning. "That is not what I find strange. Other than those who came into direct contact with the target, most people said they had never seen her and had no impression of her at all. That is far too strange."

"Smart people just overthink things." The blond man smiled. "Maybe you're being too suspicious. The target may have used genjutsu to erase her presence. Perhaps she's carrying out some secret mission."

Giving the blond man a look that said he was not so smart himself, Pineapple Head took a deep breath and explained, "If she were carrying out a secret mission and wanted to erase her traces, she wouldn't be openly feasting on expensive meals. She wouldn't refrain from using genjutsu on restaurant owners, and she certainly wouldn't pay with Explosive Tags."

Patting the notebook in his hand, the Nara Clan member said, "I cannot even piece together the target's movements throughout town. Other than where she eats and sleeps, I have no idea what she does the rest of the time. With so many eyes in town watching, that is incredibly unbelievable. She appears and vanishes like a ghost!"

The blond man chuckled awkwardly. "Does it have to be so complicated? We've already identified her address. Why not just go to the inn and find her?"

"No..." The Nara Clan member shook his head solemnly. "There is something deeply strange about this. It isn't how ninjas operate. Her reckless behavior reveals immense confidence in her own strength, as though she fears nothing. The only ninja I have ever seen with such confidence was the First, the God of Shinobi, Senju Hashirama. Ordinary ninjas, no matter how arrogant they appear, possess caution deep in their bones. The methods she has displayed alone prove she is an extremely formidable ninja. She is definitely not some twelve-year-old brat! Do not let your guard down!"

"Hey, hey, hey, don't compare some random ninja from who knows where to Lord Hashirama," the fat man said.

"Sorry..." The Nara Clan member said, "Perhaps I am overthinking it. To be safe, we still need to gather more information on the target."

Closing his notebook, the Nara Clan member said, "This is the final lead. Little Bamboo Women's Wear. Someone said the owner of that store also possesses Explosive Tags."

As soon as he finished speaking, the three vanished in a Body Flicker and headed for the women's clothing store.

The moment they entered, they began questioning the owner. Seeing three obviously powerful adult ninjas, the female owner fearfully spilled everything she knew.

After careful questioning, most of the information was repetitive, and aside from the target's appearance, she knew nothing else.

It was truly...

A headache.

"Do you know her name?"

The shop owner shook her head.

Nara bared his teeth, then thought for a moment and changed his approach. "You said she was a ninja. Did you see her use any ninjutsu? Did she glare at you with her eyes, or form hand seals? Do you remember what seals she made?"

Based on the compiled information from multiple people, the target's scarlet eyes might have been some sort of genjutsu eye.

"Yes, yes!" The shop owner eagerly cooperated. "She just hooked her finger like this, and a wooden box weighing two jin went flying up with a swoosh!"

The three exchanged looks. The Nara Clan member said, "What do you think?"

"There is no mistake." The fat man said in a muffled voice, "It is a technique of Sunagakure's secret puppet division: chakra threads, Manipulating Blade."

Although the Shinobi World had entered a period of peace, missions abroad inevitably led to conflicts with ninjas from other countries. There had been no shortage of clashes, so they possessed intelligence on ninjutsu.

The blond man muttered, "Genjutsu and puppetry? What kind of ridiculous combination is that? It's completely useless."

Unable to understand, the shop owner's eyes darted about before she said, "Oh, right, Ninja-sama. If one isn't a tailor or in a similar profession, one might not notice certain details."

The Nara Clan member's gaze sharpened. "What details? Explain."

"She..." The shop owner swallowed and lowered her voice, speaking in a nervous, mysterious tone. "Though I only met her once, she left an extremely deep impression on me. Not only did she walk lightly without making a sound, but even barefoot, her feet never picked up any dust. And she wore clothes the way corpses are dressed. Aside from tailors, only morticians from funeral homes would notice that. She even asked whether she looked like a person or a ghost. I think she looked less like a person than a ghost! She must be some kind of monster!"

The three quietly stared at the shop owner with expressions that clearly said, See if we believe that.

Under those stares, the shop owner's face fell. "I have nothing else to say."

The Nara Clan member nodded and decisively turned to leave with the others.

"Wait!" The shop owner hurriedly cried out. "Ninja-sama, do you want Explosive Tags?"

Nara turned around and asked with interest, "Of course we do. How much? If you only have a few, forget it."

"A full 109." A smile blossomed across the shop owner's face. "Three thousand ryo each."

The Nara Clan member promptly turned away. The other two followed, while the blond man cast the shop owner a teasing glance.

With a mournful face, the shop owner hurriedly shouted, "Wait! Two thousand five hundred!"

The three did not stop walking.

"Two thousand!" The shop owner raised her voice!

The three did not look back.

"One thousand!!!" The shop owner screamed, her voice nearly breaking.

The three stepped onto the threshold.

This might have been her last chance in life.

Tears welled in the shop owner's eyes. As though she had burned everything she had, she said calmly, "Five hundred. That is my final bottom line."

The three stopped and turned around, identical grins spreading across their faces. "Deal."

Seeing those smiles, the shop owner went blank for a moment and could not help recalling that girl's faint smile. That girl was a ghost! She was absolutely a ghost!

After leaving the women's clothing store, the three exchanged a tacit glance and headed straight for the inn.

In the streets and alleys around the inn, using the buildings for cover, the ninjas watched the old inn. The three-story building stood silently, like a ferocious beast lying in wait to devour someone.

"How is it, Futa?"

"She isn't here. I can't sense any chakra fluctuations." The blond man shook his head.

Had they come up empty-handed?

"Let's go in."

He led the way into the inn and approached the kindly old grandmother who ran the place.

"Excuse me, Grandma. Has the twelve-year-old red-eyed girl staying here checked out?"

At the front desk, the old woman adjusted her reading glasses, carefully examined the three, then calmly closed her eyes without any intention of speaking.

Seeing this, Nara took out a stack of money and placed it on the counter.

"A small token of appreciation. Please accept it."

The old woman opened her eyes, glanced at the money, then closed them again, completely ignoring him.

The blond man stepped forward with a kindly fake smile. "Grandma, we are Konoha ninjas, from the strongest ninja village in the Shinobi World. We are good people."

"There are no good ninjas." With her eyes closed, the old woman said, "No matter which village you are from, this old woman knows nothing."

The expressions on the three men's faces stiffened, faint anger appearing in their eyes. With a trace of arrogance and contempt, the fat man said, "Old lady, don't force me to use violence."

"Heh..." The old woman chuckled and leaned back in her chair, looking completely unwilling to resist.

"You do it, Futa," Nara said coldly.

The blond man nodded. With a cold laugh, he formed hand seals rapidly, then suddenly leaned forward and grabbed her head with one hand.

"Old woman! Let me see what's inside your brain!"

The old woman's feet left the ground as she struggled violently in agony.

After a while, the blond man tossed aside the unconscious old woman and said playfully, "I saw her face. She was rather cute. The target has not checked out, and this old woman doesn't know her whereabouts either. She has only seen her a few times. The girl comes and goes like a ghost, so she may have merely left temporarily. Her room is 306. Hopefully, she left some clues behind."

"Let's go!" Nara shouted coldly. The three went upstairs to room 306 and slid open the paper door. The next second, their bodies abruptly went cold as they froze in place, their pupils violently expanding and contracting.

The room was covered from floor to ceiling with densely packed Explosive Tags. The walls, ceiling, floor, even the bed and chairs—everywhere they looked, there were at least ten thousand of them.

An explosion from that many Explosive Tags would be enough to blow away the inn and every surrounding building.

"Scatter!!!" Amid a shriek so sharp it broke his voice, there was no need for a reminder. The three used Body Flicker in perfect coordination, turning into flashing afterimages. In less than a second, they fled in all directions as though for their lives, crashing through the inn walls in a storm of splintered wood. Suspended in midair with nowhere to gain leverage, their chests heaved rapidly from the surge of adrenaline, their breaths roaring like bellows, and madness filled their eyes.

Could they still escape in time!?

Listening to the wind at their ears, which seemed to have slowed, their ninja experience told them they could not! There was absolutely no time!

Thick despair appeared in all three pairs of eyes at once, while visions of their lives flashing before them seemed to flicker madly before their eyes.

The next moment, the three landed and repeatedly flickered away, rising and falling across the rooftops of low houses. After retreating over a hundred meters in frantic bursts, they formed a triangular formation with their backs to one another, panting harshly as they stared at the inn standing silently in the distance.

There was no explosion. A long silence followed.

Their bodies had gone weak and trembled. Beads of sweat the size of beans rolled down their foreheads and struck the roof tiles with heavy slaps.

After a long while...

"We were played..." Nara muttered darkly.

Behind him, the blond man's knees gave out and he dropped to the ground, smashing the roof tile before him with a vicious punch as he roared continuously.

"Damn it—!!!"

The fat man took out grilled meat and silently tore into it bite by bite, trying to ease his fear. Then he said in a muffled voice, "Three years of peace have dulled our vigilance somewhat. This time, we really encountered someone with a twisted sense of humor."

Nara took a deep breath and said, "No, not someone with a twisted sense of humor. She is an extremely troublesome opponent. She has already discovered us, and by now, she has likely withdrawn somewhere safe."

Unwillingness flashed across the blond man's and fat man's faces. Then the blond man, radiating killing intent, said, "Are we just letting it go?"

"With no clues, how do we pursue her? Given how troublesome she is, she definitely will not leave any traces." Nara gave the inn one last deep look, then turned around. "Let's go. The mission does not count as a failure. The target has already left town."

A forced attempt to save face.

"Damn it!" After punching the roof tiles once more in helpless rage, the blond man stood and followed the others away.

Hearing the commotion and coming out to investigate, the homeowners could only swallow their anger as they watched the ninja masters bounding across their rooftops and damaging them.

On the city wall, Yura yawned, resting her chin in both hands as her little feet swung leisurely through the air.

As long as she did not refine chakra, it was practically the same as having no chakra. This was a ninja's concealment technique, and for a ninja like Yura, whose chakra reserves were already low, it was especially useful.

Yura softly hummed a tune as the strands of hair in her hands danced nimbly around her ten fingertips, weaving cat's cradle patterns while she entertained herself. As sunset gave way to moonrise, she tilted back her head and raised her hands. The intricate-patterned string between her fingers aligned with the moon, and the pattern of the Nine Tomoe Rinnegan overlapped with it. She quietly watched the lonely full moon as cool moonlight bathed her entire body, as though she were firmly holding the moon in her palm.

At the same time, beneath the same moonlight, a middle-aged man in crimson Warring States ninja armor stood amid deep mountains. His wild, spiky long hair framed his face, and a massive war fan was strapped to his back. He looked up at the moon as the scarlet Sharingan in his eyes spun rapidly, gradually transforming into magnificent Eternal Mangekyo. He suddenly raised one hand and pointed it domineeringly at the moon, as though he wanted to seize it in his palm.

Yura gently closed her eyes. No one knew what she was thinking when she suddenly let out a soft laugh.

She whispered softly...

"Do you want to dance too~"

The next day.

At the gate beneath the city wall, three ninja masters in foul moods set off on the road back to their village.

With her long life ahead of her, Yura had learned to be patient. She opened her eyes and calmly watched the three figures gradually grow smaller in the distance, a gentle, bloodthirsty smile curling her lips.

"My turn now."

She stood up and, as though walking through the air, clasped her small hands behind her back. Like an elf, she lightly skipped forward step by step, elegantly walking along the strands of hair.