Focus on the Mission

Aoba did not turn around. He merely said calmly, "I'm not sure yet.

But if there is an ambush, there won't be many of them. They may be elites.

They don't want to reveal their position."

"Elites?"

The wandering ninja grinned, a flash of fighting spirit in his eyes. "Now that sounds interesting! Come on, let me see how well these guys can fight!"

Asuma frowned and whispered to Aoba, "This guy looks like he's afraid the world won't be chaotic. I really don't know if he'll be a blessing or a curse."

Aoba did not answer. He only narrowed his eyes slightly, fixing his gaze on a patch of shadows ahead.

There, amid the swaying tree shadows, something seemed to be hidden.

He stopped and raised a hand to signal the other two to halt. In a low voice, he said, "Careful. Something's moving."

The moment he spoke, a faint whistling sound tore through the air from the left. Several flashes of cold light shot straight toward the three of them.

Aoba reacted instantly. With a flicker of his body, the Kunai in his hand had already flown out, accurately knocking down an incoming shuriken.

At the same time, Asuma twisted aside to evade. He swiftly threw the throwing knife in his hand, pinning it into a nearby tree trunk with a dull thud.

The wandering ninja, however, did not dodge. Standing where he was, he rapidly formed hand seals and barked, "Wind Style: Gale Palm!"

A fierce gust erupted from between his palms, blowing away all the remaining shuriken and scattering them across the ground.

"Tch, you've got some skill!"

The wandering ninja grinned and swept his gaze around. "You sneaky bastards, come out! Don't make me drag each of you out one by one!"

The forest fell