The Cat-and-Mouse Game

He gritted his teeth and was about to form hand seals again when a chill suddenly swept over him from behind.

Somehow, Aoba himself had slipped behind him without a sound. A Kunai in his hand pointed straight at the back of the man's neck.

"Don't move."

Aoba's voice was low and cold, carrying an authority that brooked no argument.

The spy froze. Cold sweat streamed down his forehead, and his hands trembled slightly. He clearly knew he was at a complete disadvantage.

At the same time, another spy wielding a war scythe noticed his companion's predicament. With an angry roar, he lunged at Aoba.

He moved as swiftly as a leopard. His scythe traced two cold arcs through the air, aimed straight at Aoba's chest.

But Aoba seemed to have anticipated it. He leaned aside, and the scythe skimmed so close to his clothes that it stirred a faint breeze.

His Sharingan caught every detail of his opponent's movement. With a light push off the ground, he drifted backward like a ghost and flung two Shuriken at the spy's shoulders.

Clang! Clang!

The spy reacted instantly, knocking the Shuriken aside with his scythe. But the moment his attention shifted, Aoba's shadow clone charged in from the side and drove a heavy punch into his stomach.

The spy grunted and staggered backward, his face twisted in pain.

"One more."

Aoba turned his gaze toward the lanky spy, who was trying to circle behind him amid the chaos. The Ninja Blade in the man's hand was poised to strike.

Aoba gave a cold snort and formed hand seals again. He drew a sharp breath, his chest swelling slightly, then spat out searing flames. They formed a huge fireball that swept toward the lanky spy.

The fireball roared through the air. Heat