Infiltration

A dark figure darted through the forest, wisps of black mist drifting around his body. In the blink of an eye, he vanished.

Ahead lay Kumogakure's Forward Camp in the Land of the Moon. The Ninja who had surrounded Fugaku had yet to return.

The day's fighting had left a deep shadow over many of them. Those Cloud shinobi would probably need a good two days' rest before they could fight at full strength again.

Only thirty Ninja remained to guard the Camp. Fugaku slipped straight inside without stopping. His Sharingan swept the area, then settled on a Tent.

This was where the Camp sent information back to the village. The steady flutter of wings came from within; they must have been keeping Message Hawks or other messenger birds there.

He pressed an ear to the Tent and listened.

No one was talking inside. Apart from the flutter of wings, he heard only the faint, occasional rustle of paper.

Peering through a gap, he saw just two Ninja handling the Intelligence.

While both were absorbed in sorting it, Fugaku lifted the Tent flap a fraction and slipped inside.

"Who's there?"

One Cloud shinobi turned sharply toward the entrance.

"Mizuhara, don't be so jumpy. It was probably the wind. There are thirty Ninja in the Camp. If anyone had broken in, the alarm would've gone up by now."

Mizuhara nodded. He went to the entrance, lifted the flap, and looked outside. Everything seemed normal, with no sign of an intruder.

He had barely sat down again when a line of blood appeared across his throat. All strength left his body, and he collapsed.

The other Ninja stared in disbelief and looked around.

A pair of slowly spinning Mangekyō Sharingan appeared before him, staring straight into his eyes.

The tense Cloud shinobi's