Assassination

At the border outpost lounge, one night, the sixteen of them were gathered once more to take part in an assassination test.

"The criminals north of the Land of Fire have mostly been cleared out, but there are still many samurai and ninjas like them in the chaotic Land of Hot Water. Your mission is for each of you to bring back ten pairs of samurai hands. This mission requires infiltration in civilian clothes. Your identities must not be discovered. Whenever you complete the mission, you may return to the village..."

"We're finally going back to the village." Lin Chuan let out a long breath. At the border, he had to remain alert every moment and did not dare train too intensely in case he got killed. He did not even dare go all out in his grinding. Once his chakra was depleted, it had to be replenished immediately, so he could only train in secret each time.

"Yes, Captain." None of them found an overseas mission strange. After all, they had grown used to killing. During this period, the number of criminals who had died by their hands could not be counted on ten fingers.

"Set out once you're ready. I only care about results, not the process." Leopard surveyed the ANBU trainees. Once they completed this trial, his mission outside the village would be over as well.

As everyone dispersed, they changed out of their conspicuous ANBU uniforms before leaving the Land of Fire border outpost and quietly infiltrating the Land of Hot Water in search of targets. This time, everyone was on edge and did not dare let down their guard in the slightest.

If the wandering samurai who had slipped into the Land of Fire among the refugees were failures, then the samurai who had managed to establish themselves in the Land of Hot Water could not be underestimated. Samurai who did not need to leave their homeland were the strongest survivors, unlike those worthless wandering samurai. They were powerful warriors forged through killing.

Lin Chuan and Terai continued to work as a team. Standing in a tree at the Land of Hot Water border, they drew up a plan. Terai asked, "Where should we look for samurai?"

"Like ninjas, samurai are hired by nobles and wealthy merchants. We could target those people, but the samurai they employ usually aren't weak. They generally travel with five or six samurai..."

"That's not a bad idea. We only need to find one wealthy merchant to finish the mission." Terai licked his lips excitedly. He had not had a proper kill in a long time. Too bad they could not use their ANBU identities this time.

"We could also look for bandit samurai. They usually occupy major roads and rob travelers. No one will investigate if we kill those samurai." Lin Chuan preferred targeting bandit samurai. Their strength varied wildly, and with their abilities, wiping out an entire bandit camp would be easy.

If they targeted samurai employed by wealthy merchants or nobles, they might run into Low-level Samurai, or even samurai with the strength of Chunin. The swords those samurai carried might very well be chakra blades, better equipment than even the ANBU had. They did not have chakra blades themselves.

"Bandit samurai do seem safer." Terai suddenly realized that the samurai hired by wealthy merchants and nobles might include Low-level Samurai and Mid-level Samurai, equivalent to Genin and Chunin. Nobles might even hire High-level Samurai, equivalent to Jonin.

If two Genin like them tried to intercept a wealthy merchant, they might really get themselves killed. Choosing bandit samurai was indeed safer, since the fact that those bandit samurai had not been hired meant even clients looked down on that bunch of trash.

"That's what I thought too." Lin Chuan turned to look at the well-connected guy. So this fellow was afraid of dying too. There was no need to risk their lives for a small mission with no benefits. Returning to the village as soon as possible was what mattered.

"Let's go. We'll find a main road and search slowly." Terai immediately leaped away, following the mountain road refugees had used to enter the Land of Fire in search of bandits. Since merchants and refugees traveled along this road, there would be plenty of bandits nearby.

Lin Chuan followed behind Terai. Their goal was to find samurai. As long as they followed this mountain road, they would find cities or towns near the Land of Hot Water border, then search for bandits around those towns.

They searched along the mountain road and soon found a town that was still operating. Neither of them entered it. With the Jashin Cult causing trouble throughout the Land of Hot Water, they had no idea whether this town was controlled by the Jashin Cult. If they went in, they might not get back out.

They continued along another road outside the town and quickly found a bandit hideout. It stood on a hill not far from town, a fortified camp encircled by wooden fences, with several lonely thatched huts inside.

They saw no crops on the mountain. There was only one trail leading up, making it ideal terrain for a camp that was easy to defend and hard to attack. Only bandits who did not engage in production would make their home in such a place.

The two stood on another hill and observed the camp. They saw many sword-bearing samurai inside, though they did not know whether they met the captain's standards. The captain wanted the samurai's hands, presumably to determine whether they were warriors who had gripped swords year-round.

The calluses on the palms of samurai who held swords year-round differed from those of farmers and could be identified at a glance. It would be difficult to fool Captain Leopard, and they did not dare deceive him.

"There are enough samurai. When do we strike?" Terai noticed the many samurai in the camp. Their target was ten samurai each, so there would still be extras even if they split them evenly.

"When they celebrate." Lin Chuan leaned against a tree and swallowed a Soldier Pill. He would not rashly attack the camp. There were samurai inside, after all.

Though they were weakling samurai, they were still adults wielding deadly weapons. Even ants could bite an elephant to death. Besides, they were not experts either. Ninjas should do what ninjas did—launch sneak attacks.

"You're still as cautious as ever." Terai suppressed his restless urge. Thinking it over calmly, he found Lin Chuan's words reasonable. If more than ten samurai in the camp attacked together, even if he took down a few, he would still be hacked to death by a flurry of blades. The people collecting his corpse might laugh about it for the rest of his life.

The two waited and waited until noon the next day, when the samurai in the camp all headed out. They immediately followed, allowing them to find out what the samurai were doing and gauge their strength.

Terai had long since run out of patience. Following the bandit samurai, he saw them robbing a group of passing refugees while ignoring the merchant caravan behind them. They also saw the caravan delivering supplies to the bandits. The bandits had made a decent haul on this trip and returned to their camp in high spirits.

"Did you notice anything?" Terai returned to stake out the area near the camp and asked Lin Chuan, who had more clever ideas.

"They pick on the weak and fear the strong. The caravan paid a toll, so these bandits might be private soldiers raised by some noble." Seeing that the bandits only bullied ordinary people, Lin Chuan knew their strength was nothing special. But the caravan's willingness to buy peace made him suspicious.

After all, merchant caravans had the most valuable goods. Even if they had samurai guards, that would not necessarily stop these desperate outlaws from attacking.

Yet the caravan had paid for peace, and the bandits had not greedily demanded more. That meant the caravan was not afraid of the bandits; it might have been afraid of some noble.

"Do we strike tonight?" Terai watched the bandits begin drinking and celebrating. He did not want to wait any longer. He was impatient by nature.

"We can. We'll move once they're drunk." Lin Chuan nodded lightly. The food and wine had been sent by the merchant caravan. It was perfect for their final meal before death.

These bandit samurai could really drink. Perhaps the alcohol was too weak, but they kept drinking until eight or nine that night before collapsing drunkenly across the camp's open grounds.

On a dark, windy night, it was time to kill. ANBU should rely on sneak attacks; fighting head-on was not the ANBU way.