Hayashi moved with fluid precision, keeping his body low as he advanced.
The Sand ninja captain watched in disbelief. Several Leaf Genin, accompanied by a Chunin, weren't retreating—they were charging straight at him.
Why? Why would a Chunin and three Genin dare to confront me? he thought.
It didn't take long for him to understand—their speed was overwhelming.
But Hayashi was faster still.
At ten meters' distance, lightning release chakra surged beneath his feet, propelling him forward with blinding speed. His movement rhythm shifted instantly, leaving the enemy no time to react.
With a swift gesture, Hayashi unleashed the Sharingan, targeting the young puppet master carrying a large scroll. Caught in the genjutsu, the puppet master couldn't defend himself.
Hayashi leapt from his low crouch, preparing to pierce the puppet master's head with a kunai, but the Sand ninja captain reacted, yanking his subordinate away just in time.
Then, forming rapid hand seals, the captain called out, "Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!"
A massive surge of wind, charged with chakra, smashed through the forest toward Hayashi. Trees splintered and shattered in its path.
Wind Release? Hayashi had anticipated this.
The A-rank jutsu's destructive force rivaled that of a natural disaster, but he was ready. He leapt straight up, letting the wind smash the tree beneath him. Then, he vanished from the attack's trajectory.
Body Flicker Technique.
Landing from above, Hayashi gripped a kunai in his right hand. Launching his left leg forcefully, lightning release chakra erupted around him, accelerating him further. He shot forward like a bolt of lightning toward the Sand ninja captain.
Meanwhile, his teammates engaged the captain's subordinates—Mikoto, Minato, and Nawaki all leapt into action.
"Good! Haha, good!" the Sand ninja captain boomed, charging headlong and throwing a punch directly at Hayashi's fist.
The strike combined speed, strength, and hardness. A taijutsu user could be described as Hard Fist or Gentle Fist; the Sand ninja's technique was pure Hard Fist, focused on raw impact.
Hayashi's own taijutsu wasn't strength-based—he hadn't undergone Guy-style extreme training—so his fist alone couldn't overpower such an attack.
Expecting resistance, the Sand captain had unknowingly reinforced his arm with Earth Release armor, confident his punch could withstand any strike from Hayashi's kunai or fist.
But piercing was unnecessary. Hayashi relied on his Strength of a Hundred Seal technique.
The captain, underestimating a ninja his age, collided fists with Hayashi—and the Earth Release shattered instantly.
The force struck him like a battering ram. His body flew back like a kite with a broken string, pain exploding as blood sprayed from his arm.
Hayashi didn't pause. He turned immediately toward the puppet master.
"Chidori Senbon!"
Lightning-charged senbon severed the chakra threads connecting the puppet to the master, freeing Tsunade from their interference.
Speed surged again. Hayashi flickered close to the enemy, leapt, and delivered a punishing kick to the back of the puppet master's neck. The puppet master slammed into the ground, then rebounded violently—Earth Release couldn't absorb the force.
With the enemy incapacitated, Hayashi pressed forward. Mikoto followed, attacks even more brutal in their efficiency.
The puppet master, still airborne from the first blow, was pummeled with successive kicks. One step, two steps, one step, two steps—relentless.
Each strike echoed the ferocity of a seasoned Jonin, leaving the enemy defeated beyond recovery.
The forest around them trembled with the intensity of their battle. Broken branches, scattered leaves, and torn earth marked the path of their assault.
Minato's eyes scanned the area, ensuring no other Sand ninja attempted a flanking maneuver. Nawaki readied himself, fists glowing faintly with chakra, prepared to intercept any threat.
Pakura, the Scorch Release ninja, observed from a distance, analyzing Hayashi's speed and strategy. Her fingers twitched, ready to ignite at a moment's notice.
The tension of the battlefield hung like a storm about to break, each movement, each breath, charged with the anticipation of further clashes.
Even the wind seemed to carry the weight of their fight, whistling through the trees as if heralding the next strike in this deadly dance.
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