— — Once the cold decision was made, consciousness, like the most precise instrument, began to operate at high speed, sifting through fragments of memory and daily observations to find the target that had to be "dealt with."
The verbally abusive? Hateful, but powerless.
The stone-throwing children? Ignorant followers.
The burly man pushing a cart? A thug, a tool.
The spy in the tree shadows? Hidden too deeply.
The cloaked assassin? Too dangerous, beyond his capabilities.
Finally, a figure clearly emerged, meeting all the "priority handling" conditions: Shimada.
A down-and-out middle-aged man. He was once a Konoha Genin who lost his wife, daughter, and his livelihood, a small shop, during the Nine-Tailed incident. Since then, he had been utterly disheartened. He was a habitual drunkard, filled with malice. He had repeatedly, in taverns and even in the foul-smelling alley near Naruto's small dwelling, publicly roared the most vicious curses:
"Fox demon brat! It's all him! He killed Miyoko and Reiko!"
"Why is he still alive?! He should die! He should have died long ago!"
"You cowards? I'll go! I'll personally strangle that little menace!"
Ability to act? Yes! He had tried more than once to charge the simple cordon outside the small house, only to be easily subdued and thrown out by Anbu or the on-duty "Crow." He even, in a drunken stupor, stumbled towards the small house clutching a can of cheap lamp oil, shouting, "Burn him! Burn it all clean!" before being knocked unconscious and dragged away by patrolling Ninja who arrived upon hearing the commotion.
This was a madman completely consumed by hatred, with nothing left, and capable of becoming a human bomb at any moment. His threat was direct, lethal, and easily overlooked due to his status as a "pitiable wretch" and his apparent incompetence. He was the most unstable and easiest to "remove" broken knife hanging overhead.
Target locked. Plan initiated.
The opportunity arrived a few days later. "Kite" pushed my creaking broken cart, "patrolling" along a relatively secluded gravel road near the abandoned warehouse district on the Village's edge. This road was a necessary path to the cheap tavern Shimada frequented.
Key location: A two-story wooden covered bridge connecting two rows of old warehouses. It had long been abandoned, dilapidated, with rotten and broken railings, and its surface was covered with years of dust, bird droppings, and some broken wooden crates and rubble. Beneath the bridge was a hard ground, about four meters below, piled with construction debris and broken rubble. At the base of several large wooden beams supporting the covered bridge, clear signs of insect damage and decay could be seen. This was one of Shimada's shortcuts to the tavern.
"Eee-yah... ah..." As we reached a relatively open area beneath the covered bridge, I immediately let out an unhappy grunt in the stroller, my small hands vigorously slapping the side of the cart, my body squirming, pointing to a nearby pile of relatively clean (relatively speaking) gravel, sending a strong signal of "want to get down and play."
"Kite" coldly glanced at the pile of gravel, then looked up at the silent, deserted covered bridge and the surroundings. The visibility here was relatively open, and she was confident she could control everything. Perhaps thinking that letting me "expend" some energy on the gravel pile would ensure a quiet return journey, she let out an impatient "tsk" and lifted me out of the cart, placing me next to the gravel pile.
"Stay put." A cold command.
I immediately "immersed" myself in the infant's "exploration." Clumsily grabbing small pebbles, tapping them, making "ding-ding" sounds, saliva dripping down my chin. The corner of my eye, however, was like the most precise radar, scanning the entrance and support structure of the covered bridge, my brain frantically calculating:
Footsteps... heavy, dragging, with a drunken stagger... It's Shimada! He's here!
Speed... slow... estimated to step onto the east end entrance of the covered bridge in thirty seconds... route... straight line... will pass directly above the third main beam... that plank... darkest color, raised edge... weakest!
Below... garbage pile... a sharp, broken concrete block... perfect position... "Kite's" position... five meters behind and to my right, leaning against a low wall, her gaze primarily on me, occasionally scanning the surroundings... angle... need to distract her for half a second... Time stretched like a rubber band, every second incredibly clear. Shimada's heavy, smell of alcohol footsteps stepped onto the decayed wooden planks of the covered bridge, emitting a grating "creak." His muttering curses faintly reached me: "...fox demon... bad luck... wine..."
Now!
I concentrated all my Mental Energy, not to form a Clone using Chakra (that would be too obvious), but to direct that pitifully weak warm current within my body, like the finest probe, to suddenly "stab" at a small black pebble, only the size of a pinky fingernail, half-embedded in the dirt at the edge of the gravel pile!
Goal: Make it "jump"! Even if only a centimeter! Make a sound!
"Chhh!"
An extremely faint sound, like a bubble bursting.
That small black pebble, disturbed by the faint Chakra, actually bounced! It slightly popped out of the dirt, hitting a slightly larger stone nearby, making a soft "tap" sound!
The sound was very small, but in the silent environment, it was enough to attract the attention of a vigilant person!
"Kite's" gaze, as if pulled by an invisible thread, instantly shifted from the back of my head, precisely directed to the source of the sound—the gravel pile one meter to my left! Her eyes were sharp as an eagle's, her muscles instantly tensed, and her right hand instinctively reached for her Ninja tool pouch! This half-second shift in vigilance was the key to the plan!
Almost at the same instant!
On the covered bridge, Shimada, still muttering curses and stepping on that darkest-colored, raised-edged, rotten wooden plank, was startled by the sudden "tap" sound from below, as if some small animal or mechanism had been triggered! He was already hazy with drink and disoriented, now even more like a startled bird!
"Who?!" He suddenly lowered his head, his cloudy, drunken eyes trying to peer through the gaps in the covered bridge's planks to the source of the sound below! His body instinctively leaned forward, his center of gravity shifting instantly!
Crack — !!!
That wooden plank, already hollowed out by termites and rotted by dampness, let out a desperate groan the moment his body leaned forward and his entire weight pressed down on it! Then, without suspense — it completely broke!
"Ugh ah — !!!"
Shimada's curses turned into a terrified scream! He instantly lost his balance, like a heavy broken sack, suddenly falling forward! In his panic, he tried to grab the nearby rotten railing, but the fragile wood shattered with a "crash" under his desperate tug! Several broken railing splinters savagely pierced his arm!
"Bang! Clang! Crash — !!!"
A series of heart-stopping crashes!
Shimada's body tumbled, colliding with the decayed structure of the covered bridge, carrying countless shattered wood splinters and dust, falling from a height of over four meters, squarely and heavily smashing into the pile of construction debris below! Landing precisely on that sharp, broken concrete block!
After the dull thud, there was the grating "crunch" of breaking bones! Then, everything fell silent. Only dust slowly drifted in the dim light.
Next to the gravel pile, I "was" so "frightened" by the huge falling sound and impact that I plopped down on the ground, my small face pale (this time I was genuinely a bit shaken), my small mouth pursed, and then I burst into an earth-shshattering wail, "Waaah —!" My small hands flailed wildly, pointing to the dusty pile of garbage beneath the covered bridge.
"Kite's" figure had already appeared beside me like a ghost, her cold eyes no longer vigilant as before, but filled with shock and solemnity! She scooped me up, shielding me behind her, her sharp gaze locked onto the point of impact, and her other hand had already drawn the short sword from her back!
She cautiously approached the mess.
Shimada lay there in a twisted posture, his neck strangely askew, dark red blood seeping from beneath the back of his head, staining the sharp concrete block. A broken wooden splinter pierced his side. His eyes were wide open, still showing the horror and bewilderment of his last moments, his breath long gone.
"Kite" quickly checked, confirming his death. Her cold gaze swept over the broken, rotten planks, the shattered railing, and finally returned to the messy pile of garbage. There were no traces of anyone else at the scene, only evidence of dilapidation and a drunkard's misstep.
She put away her short sword, expressionlessly picked up me, who was still "wailing," and quickly left the troubled area. Before leaving, she cast a final glance at Shimada's corpse, her eyes devoid of any pity, only a hint of cold disgust at having to deal with a nuisance.
The infant's wails echoed through the silent, abandoned warehouse district, gradually fading away.
The crying gradually ceased. I buried my face in "Kite's" uniform, which smelled of gunpowder and dust, my body still trembling slightly from the fright (and the Mental Energy exhaustion from earlier).
However, deep within my consciousness, there was a frozen stillness.
Shimada's terrified eyes in his final moments, his twisted body, the sound of his bones breaking... these images were clearly etched in my mind.
No fear.
No disgust (aside from the physiological trembling).
No... ripples whatsoever.
Only a cold sense of confirmation.
Like wiping an annoying, dangerous chess piece off the board.
An indescribable sense of relief, as if a burden had been lifted, quietly slid through the frozen ground of my Soul like a cold stream.
This was the Law of this world.
Naked, cruel.
Either silently endure, waiting for the butcher's knife to fall at an unknown time.
Or... take the initiative to nip the threat in the bud.
There was no third way.
"Kite's" footsteps echoed on the empty road. I closed my eyes, feeling the lingering tremor in this infant body gradually subside.
That seed named "ruthlessness," watered by Shimada's warm blood, finally pierced the frozen ground of my Soul, sending forth a cold, dark, and lethally spiky sprout.
The path of the ruthless truly began here.