Assassination Game

The streets were in chaos, vegetable leaves scattered everywhere. No one wanted to be accidentally hurt by these spoiled young masters.

Besides, this place really was just as that samurai had said—law?

It was nothing more than paperwork in the great hall. To truly stand outside that hall, they still had to ask whether the samurai's blades would listen to them!

All they had to do was kill this rough brute. As for punishment?

Who would know what they'd done? These lowly commoners wouldn't actually report them.

"What wind blew you all over here? This really is rare."

Orochimaru slightly flicked out his tongue. He was delighted to see that Kakashi Hatake and Itachi Uchiha were also part of this group. Those were Sharingan he had coveted for a long time.

Especially after witnessing the legendary divine power of Susanoo last time, his eyes had filled with envy.

Was this the advantage of a Bloodline Limit?

If all these things were transplanted onto him, they would surely grant him immensely powerful techniques as well.

This is what power feels like!

"If I'm not mistaken, the man ahead is the daimyo of the Land of Rice Fields, Ishiyama Sanae. He's also the sponsor funding your ninja village project this time."

Kakashi sneered and drew a dagger. The Anbu beside him took several steps back and spread out their formation. If anything changed, whether they needed to pursue or disperse, they could react immediately.

This mission had never simply been about bringing the S-rank rogue ninja Orochimaru back. They also had to destroy the power and connections he had painstakingly built, allowing Konoha to consolidate the surrounding forces.

That was the primary objective.

Otherwise, how could they atone for their crimes through merit?

"What, are you thinking of killing him? I'm still standing right here, yet you dare act so recklessly?"

Orochimaru watched this group of Anbu clowns with great interest, directly taking a kunai coated in white saliva from his tongue.

When it came to assassination methods, he was practically their grandmaster.

"We might as well have a contest. Let's play an assassination game and see whether you can prevent our assassination—or whether you think we can violate his wife right in front of you."

Kakashi Hatake swallowed, his entire body taut. After the lesson last time, he couldn't let Orochimaru successfully ambush him again.

Unlike those underground dark spaces, this street was far more open. This was their true battlefield.

"How presumptuous."

Seeing the samurai draw their swords, the strongman flew into a rage. Before anyone could speak, he charged forward. The sudden burst of force blasted a small crater into the bluestone pavement. His several-hundred-pound body shot ahead like a speeding mountain of flesh; anything struck by him would likely be crushed to powder.

Swallow Reversal, Three-Sword Style!

The samurai lowered his stance slightly, letting his blade arc and reverse like a swallow. In an instant, it shifted through three directions in rapid succession. The sword didn't slow at all, yet its movements were unfathomably strange.

Worthy of being elite samurai from an entire nation.

Clang!

The blades struck the strongman's pale flesh, but the leading samurai immediately felt as though he had hacked into metal and stone. The sharp pain and numbness shooting through his wrist made his whole body shudder.

Damn it.

What the hell is this thing?

His eyes filled with disbelief, but before he could react, the horrifying hand before him seized his head as easily as one might grab a chick.

Bang!

With a slight squeeze, a mist of blood instantly spread through the air.

"Big brother!"

The samurai cried out in shock. They had never imagined that just moments ago, they had been laughing and chatting about finding a restaurant, picking up girls, or raiding villages for supplies.

Yet in the next instant, one of them had been separated from his head.

"This is the fate of defying your lord's orders. The chief culprit has been executed. The rest of you may disperse on your own."

The young man in golden robes behind the strongman called out to the subordinates. Only then did many of them realize what kind of giant they had offended.

"Lord Ishiyama."

"Why are you here?"

"We were wrong! Please spare us!"

Their earlier arrogant swagger spilled away like piss, leaving only limp weakness. Their faces crumpled as though they had lost their parents.

The civilians hiding nearby cautiously poked their heads out. When they looked at the man in brocade robes, their eyes no longer held only fear and panic. More than that, they flickered with affection and delight.

Why execute these bandits? Because they robbed official carriages and defied the daimyo. Executing them was meant to let everyone understand the consequences of opposing the daimyo. The daimyo had come, and now they would have peace. The daimyo had come, and justice was here!

"Don't worry, fellow townsfolk!"

Seeing the looks in everyone's eyes, Ishiyama Sanae happily launched into an impassioned speech.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Several hidden weapons suddenly shot out, only to be knocked down midair by Orochimaru's kunai.

They fell to the ground like withered branches and leaves.

"Assassins!"

Cries of alarm rang out, but in the next second, Itachi had already thrown smoke bombs around them.

Dust instantly filled the air. Figures that had been visible just moments ago became nothing but outlines. With visibility reduced to almost nothing, coughing erupted everywhere.

"Protect the lord! Quickly, protect the lord!"

Chaos broke out. The clatter of running wooden sandals merged into a single din, while blood and severed limbs flew everywhere. The Anbu moved like ghosts amid the samurai's screams and groans.

In the blink of an eye, Itachi had silently cut down three men.

Blood dyed their masks red.

Those masks, godlike in the darkness, nearly made everyone who saw them lose the will to resist at first sight.

"You despicable assassins, don't you have even a shred of Bushido? Come out and fight me for three hundred rounds! I'll show you how formidable a samurai is! Stop being cowards! How could this be—"

One man shouted in terror, but before he could adjust his gaze, he felt the world spin. Had he gotten dizzy from the blood?

A qualified samurai shouldn't possibly have been cowardly on the battlefield.

"My body!!!"

Only then did he suddenly discover that his vision was spinning on the ground. His own head had somehow been cut off.

Blood sprayed through the air, filling it with a nauseating stench.

These terrifying Anbu ninja were truly this horrifying when carrying out their mission.