In the cemetery battle, "Gonbei" played by Senju Chen and White Zetsu Clone, can be regarded as a complete GG.
"This account Gonbei is useless. I will change my skin next."
In a dark corner, Senju Chen and White Zetsu Clone quietly seeped out from the shadow of the wall, complaining casually in their hearts.
"But this time I got quite a lot of experience packs, and I also got two future Mizukages to work as free labor, so it's not a loss."
He raised his head, his eyes penetrated the heavy fog, and accurately focused on the tallest and most depressing stone tower in the center of the village.
There is Kirigakure Ninja Academy, a veritable slaughterhouse of "talents".
Then, it's time to upgrade your business.
With a thought in his mind, the figure of Senju Chen became illusory again, like a drop of ink thrown into the water, silently blending into the slippery bluestone beneath his feet.
Mayfly Technique!
In the face of White Zetsu Clone's BUG-level stealth skill, Kirigakure's airtight patrols Anbu and perception barrier are in vain. Senju Chen moves silently. He is just like a stone on the ground and a piece of moss on the wall, perfectly integrated with the entire environment. Not even a trace of Chakra fluctuation will be leaked.
Like an invisible ghost, he easily passed through the layers of guards outside the stone tower and "flowed" directly into the bloody building.
As soon as he entered the tower, a smell of blood that was so strong that it almost solidified, mixed with the smell of sweat, fear and some kind of metallic rust, hit his face, making him almost nauseous.
My ears were filled with all kinds of heart-stopping sounds.
There are the suppressed cries of children, the sharp sounds of weapons clashing, the insensitive scolding of instructors, and even the short and desperate screams before death.
This isn't a school, it's simply a colosseum.
Senju Chen did not rush to find the target, but patiently used Mayfly Technique to "stick" itself to the cold wall, like a top observer, indifferently watching the "ecosystem" inside this giant tower.
He needs a new identity, a perfect "new skin".
This identity cannot be too high-profile, otherwise it will easily attract the attention of senior management, and every move will be under the spotlight; it cannot be too low-key, otherwise it will not be able to reach the core and implement his "talent wholesale" plan.
An instructor who has a certain amount of real power at the middle level, has a withdrawn personality, has a simple social circle, and is not top-notch in his own abilities and can be easily "replaced" is the best choice.
Soon, a target entered Senju Chen's field of vision.
On the training ground, two boys who looked to be no more than seven or eight years old were holding a bladed Kunai, engaging in a life-or-death duel.
One of the slightly stronger boys attacked fiercely, with deadly moves. The other, a thin boy, was retreating steadily, his eyes full of fear, and his movements had begun to deform.
"Trash! What are you waiting for? Are you waiting for me to treat you to dinner?"
On the sidelines, a tall and thin man with short, messy gray hair and a hideous scar from his eyebrow bone to the corner of his mouth was leaning against the wall in boredom, scolding in a hoarse voice.
His name is Kirisame Ryo, and he is a Chunin instructor in this slaughterhouse.
"Pfft!"
Just when the thin boy paused fatally out of fear, the strong boy's Kunai pierced his chest without hesitation.
Warm blood splashed on the strong boy's face. He just blinked numbly and pushed the body away.
Kirisame Ryo turned a blind eye to this and just scratched a piece of wood in his hand, as if what had just died was not a living child, but an insignificant livestock.
"Next!" he shouted numbly.
On the wall, Senju Chen's consciousness was quietly observing this scene.
'Good guy, this KPI assessment is hard-core enough. The elimination system for the last place directly eliminates it physically, right?'
In the next few days, Senju Chen almost became the shadow of Kirisame Ryo.
He followed him around the training ground and watched how he "motivated" those children in the cruelest way; he followed him to the cafeteria, and found that he was always sitting alone in the corner, wolfing down hard rice balls; he followed him back to the narrow and dark single dormitory on the third floor of the tower.
Senju Chen discovered that this Kirisame Ryo was simply a "new skin" tailor-made for him.
His strength is at the peak of Chunin, and he is not eye-catching. He is withdrawn and has almost no friends. His only communication partner is a few other equally numb instructors. His daily life track is the training ground, canteen, and dormitory, and he is as regular as a robot.
What's even better is that after a few days of observation, Senju Chen also discovered several little-known little habits of his.
For example, he would go to the rooftop of the tower alone late every night, smoke a cigarette in the cold wind, and watch the thick fog for half an hour without saying a word.
For example, when he walks, his left leg will feel slightly stiff, which seems to be an old injury from his early years.
For another example, when he was talking to others, he would subconsciously use the little finger of his right hand to rub the scar on his face.
These details will be perfectly reproduced.
Late at night on the third day.
Kirisame Ryo As usual, he finished his day's "work" and dragged his tired body to the empty rooftop of the tower.
The howling sea breeze made his shabby gray robe rustle.
He skillfully took out a low-quality cigarette from his arms, lit it, and took a deep breath. The smoke ring he exhaled was quickly blown away by the strong wind.
He looked down at the village shrouded in thick fog, his eyes empty, and he didn't know what he was thinking. Perhaps he was recalling how he crawled out of such a bloody fight.
However, he did not notice that in the shadow of the cold stone guardrail behind him, a "shadow" was slowly creeping and rising.
"Click."
There was a slight sound, like a pebble falling to the ground.
"Who?!"
Kirisame Ryo turned around suddenly. As a ninja, his vigilance made him tense up instantly. His right hand had already reached for the ninja tool bag on his waist.
However, he only saw a pair of eyes.
A pair of calm, deep, emotionless eyes.
The next second, a pair of hands stretched out from the shadows without any warning. At a speed that he could not react at all, one hand covered his mouth, and the other hand gently scratched his neck with a knife.
There is no murderous aura, no Chakra fluctuation, just like an old friend greeting you.
"You..."
He only had time to utter a hoarse syllable before his consciousness fell into boundless darkness.
Senju Chen's clone has an expressionless face, and White Zetsu's devouring characteristics are fully activated.
The jaw-dropping sound of bones dislocating and muscles squirming sounded. Kirisame Ryo's body shriveled and melted at a speed visible to the naked eye. The clothes and ninja tools on his body were all turned into the purest nutrients, which were absorbed by White Zetsu Clone.
[Ding! An effective kill was detected, a moderate amount of Chakra and a large amount of combat experience were stolen]
In Senju Chen's mind, countless memory fragments belonging to Kirisame Ryo came flooding in.
He saw an equally thin boy stabbing Kunai into a companion's body for the first time in order to survive on the bloody training ground; he saw his left leg being severely injured by the enemy during the mission and was almost disabled; he saw him standing here day after day, looking at batch after batch of children with the same numb eyes, repeating his own fate...
"Just a poor guy who was also crushed by the system."
Senju Chen commented in his heart.
When all the memories and experiences were digested, the white figure had disappeared.
Instead, there was a tall and thin man with a hideous scar on his face.
The new "Kirisame Ryo" stood up straight, paused slightly with his left leg habitually, then raised his right hand and skillfully rubbed the scar on his face with his little finger. His movements and expression were the same as the previous one.
He picked up the half-cut cigarette that fell on the ground, put it to his mouth, took a puff, and then flicked the cigarette butt accurately into the night fog.
After doing all this, he turned around and walked downstairs.
The footsteps echoed in the empty corridor, carrying a familiar stiffness that belonged to old wounds.