Your Assassination, My Dango

This crew's job wasn't complicated. Once they put the scroll in the target's hands, they were done.

Whatever mess came afterward wasn't their problem.

That took a fair bit of tension out of the group.

After traveling for a while, Naoya Kuchiki scanned their surroundings and spoke up.

"There's a clearing up ahead. Let's all sit down, rest, and have something to eat."

Everyone pulled out their rations.

"Are you really eight?"

During the break, Kiyota Sato turned to ask Gojo Satoru.

No matter how he looked at him, the boy was a good bit shorter than his little brother, who was still in school.

How had someone this small passed the assessment to join ANBU?

Talent?

Judging by his appearance alone, there wasn't a trace of genius to be found.

He just looked like a kid who hadn't even grown his first hair.

He didn't have so much as a hint of the cold, sinister air an ANBU member ought to have.

Could he really handle that kind of life?

Kiyota Sato lowered his eyelids as those thoughts churned through his mind.

"An old guy who keeps sucking on strawberry milk doesn't look thirty, either," Gojo Satoru replied flatly.

Then he cast a rather complicated look at the unsettling sight.

A handsome, burly man was quietly sipping from a carton of strawberry milk.

Was this what adult life was like?

Creepy!

Then he tilted his face up toward the sky.

At the rate this mission was progressing...

Once they finished, there should still be time to go...

Wait, what the hell?

Gojo Satoru's mental calculations broke off as he suddenly sensed something wrong.

Within the perception of his six eyes, something was off.

Could it be...?

Meanwhile.

Kiyota Sato still hadn't climbed out of the hole that last remark had knocked him into.

Old guy? Thirty?

Those two words stabbed him like knives.

The corner of his mouth twitched twice.

Did his face really look that old?

He was only sixteen.

In the end, he could only shake his head helplessly.

Just then.

Gojo Satoru shoved Kiyota Sato away from beside him and shot backward himself.

Boom-!

The instant they dodged, an explosion blasted a huge crater into the spot where they had been resting. A figure sprang out of the smoke-the ninja who had been lying in wait to ambush them.

The newcomer was broad and thickset, with pale, unruly hair bristling like a mane and bulging muscles beneath his white skin.

His vicious eyes were filled with disbelief.

Then he fixed his icy gaze on Gojo Satoru, hatred at having his scheme foiled still written across his face.

How did this little bastard sniff me out?

A lucky guess?

He had used that concealment technique to ambush and kill plenty of well-known ninja.

He had never imagined it would fail him today.

And against an eight-year-old brat, at that?

Unacceptable!

He didn't charge into battle like the ninja behind him.

Instead, he kept his eyes locked on Gojo Satoru and demanded an answer.

"Kid, how did you see through me just now?"

Gojo Satoru didn't answer. He leisurely dusted off his clothes.

Misjudged the blast. Packed in too many explosive tags.

Now I'm covered in dust.

What a lousy deal.

Then he spotted the skewer of Three-Color Dango that had been blown apart on the ground.

"..."

And it had to be my favorite flavor.

Now...

There wasn't even a crumb left!

After a moment of silence, he abruptly raised his head.

If it weren't for this asshole...

"How did I spot you?"

"Did I even need to look?"

"This damn terrain practically screams ambush. Anyone hiding in the woods can see everything outside. Where else would you find such a convenient hidey-hole and such a perfect spot for an ambush?"

"So I prepared a deluxe explosive tag package in advance."

"Never thought some idiot would actually show up to claim it."

Gojo Satoru threw off his usual listless laziness and unleashed a barrage of vicious mockery.

His entire aura changed.

Was this the power unleashed by exploding Three-Color Dango?

Beside him, Kiyota Sato silently marveled.

At that same instant, six hostile presences locked onto Gojo Satoru from above, below, in front, behind, and on either side.

Shuriken?

Listening to the sound of the air being sliced apart, Gojo Satoru curled his lips.

Those projectiles cut through the air so smoothly, without the slightest wobble or drag. They didn't sound like they had explosive tags attached.

Old man, your tricks were outdated!

Bare projectiles like those couldn't kill anyone!

Before Kiyota Sato's startled cry could escape his throat, Gojo Satoru twisted and leaped, flinging every projectile in his hands.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The dizzying flurry of projectiles collided in midair.

Cold light flashed several times, all in the blink of an eye.

Every projectile that had just flown at him bounced back along its original path as though it had eyes.

Then.

Boom!

The thunderous blast flooded everyone's ears.