The night was the demons' hunting ground.
But from tonight onward, it was his, too.
Uesugi Sasuke moved through the cold, deathly still forest like a solitary ghost.
The dark blue training clothes that had appeared on him out of thin air already had several tears from branches, but compared with the wounds inside him, these were nothing.
The agony of his broken ribs had yet to fade. Every deep breath brought a sharp stab of pain.
Yet he seemed unable to feel it, following the red arrow in his vision that only he could see, his face expressionless.
This was his first time entering this familiar forest at night.
The woods, filled with birdsong and fragrant flowers by day, were now shrouded in boundless darkness, full of the unknown and danger.
The wind swept through the treetops with a whimpering sound, like the whispers of departed souls.
Occasional howls from distant beasts made the mountain forest beneath the night sky even more sinister.
Before, he would have been too frightened to move.
But now, fear had been replaced by something deeper and colder.
Hatred.
A hatred that sank into his marrow, enough to freeze everything.
He knew nothing about tracking prey himself.
The system's arrow only pointed him in a vague direction.
Finding a moving target in this mountain forest's complex terrain was like searching for a needle in the ocean.
He could only rely on the knowledge and instincts of a "ninja" that had appeared in his mind.
He began to slow his steps, deliberately controlling his breathing until it became long and faint.
He no longer stepped haphazardly, but consciously chose soft soil covered with fallen leaves, landing on the balls of his feet to keep the noise to a minimum.
His body was like a young leopard learning to hunt, clumsy yet deadly.
He began to observe.
He observed the patterns of tree shadows in the moonlight, and every unnatural trace on the ground.
He was no longer a fugitive, but a hunter.
An avenger who would claim a demon's life.
After traveling through the forest for an unknown length of time, he suddenly stopped.
By the faint moonlight, he crouched and saw a trail of footprints that belonged to none of the beasts he knew.
The footprints sank deep into the soil, their shapes distorted with an inhuman strangeness.
A faint, nauseating stench of blood and decay rose from them.
A demon.
Not a ripple stirred in Sasuke's eyes.
He raised his head. The red arrow pointed steadily in the direction the footprints led.
He was on the right track.
He tightened his grip on the kunai in his hand, its cold touch bringing him a sliver of reassurance.
He followed the footprints, creeping forward even more carefully.
Soon, a sound that made his scalp prickle reached his ears.
It was the crunch of bones being chewed to pieces, and the ripping sound of flesh being torn apart.
Sasuke's heart clenched sharply.
Not from fear.
But because the rage he had suppressed to its limit had been ignited once again.
Without a sound, he crept behind an enormous old tree, peeked half his head out, and looked toward the sound.
In a small clearing, a humanoid monster covered in long gray hair crouched on all fours, its back to him and its head lowered as it gnawed on something.
Judging by the scraps of clothing scattered across the ground, it was probably an unfortunate traveler who had lost their way in the mountains.
The monster ate grotesquely, crudely stuffing large chunks of flesh into its mouth with nauseating chewing sounds.
This was a demon.
This was the kind of monster that had taken his parents' lives.
Sasuke's pupils shrank to pinpoints in an instant.
He forced himself to calm down, suppressing the urge to charge forward and tear it apart immediately.
He began to analyze.
This demon seemed completely absorbed in the pleasure of eating, with no guard against its surroundings.
It was somewhat smaller than the one that had attacked his home that night, and was probably weaker as well.
This is the best chance.
He drew another kunai from the small ninja tool pouch that came with the system.
He held one in each hand.
In his mind, the information the system had provided was perfectly clear.
[Objective: slay. Weak point: neck.]
He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the agony of his broken bones.
What I need to do isn't fight.
It's assassinate.
An assassination that kills in one strike.
He lowered his center of gravity, bending his legs slightly, like a fully drawn bow.
The chakra in his body began to flow slowly into his limbs along the routes he remembered, bringing a faint sense of strength.
He stared at the demon's unguarded nape, his gaze utterly cold.
The mountain village boy who had cried and laughed so readily had died completely before the ruins and the fresh graves.
The one standing here now had only one name.
Avenger.
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