Chapter 8 — They Escaped
The morning sunlight slowly illuminated the forest once more, restoring its brightness and gradually bringing warmth back to the woods.
'Under the morning sun, I recover 5, 8, and 10 energy points per hour… Does that make me solar-powered?'
By a stream in a clearing free of tree cover, Tsukigami Ren lay sprawled on a stretch of broken bluestone riverbank like a corpse, lazily basking in the morning sunlight with as much surface area exposed as possible. Meanwhile, his consciousness observed the Technology Template System, calculating silently.
After sunbathing for three hours: during the first hour after sunrise, he recovered 5 energy points; in the second hour, 8 points; in the third, 10 points. As the sunlight grew stronger, the energy recovery rate increased. Although it was slow, over the eleven or twelve daylight hours, he could recover nearly enough energy to cast Lightning Release: Earth Walk ten times.
And this didn't interfere with chakra refinement—though at the moment, Tsukigami Ren wasn't refining chakra.
"Whoosh—whoosh—!"
A sharp whistling sound suddenly cut through the air from the forest by the river. Two pitch-black kunai shot out from the shrubs beneath the trees, hurtling toward Tsukigami Ren.
"Thud—thud!"
The sound of metal piercing flesh rang out as the two kunai struck true—one embedding itself in his neck, the other in his head.
"It's a dead Konoha ninja!"
"Sensei, how can you tell he's from Konoha?"
From the forest, three teenagers roughly Tsukigami Ren's age emerged from the bushes under the guidance of a Sand chunin. As they spoke, they approached the figure lying on the ground.
"Because he's not wearing our flak vest, nor does he have our forehead protector, yet he's dressed in clothing styled after Sunagakure. And he's about your age, but wearing adult-sized clothes."
"Sensei, then why would he be wearing clothes in our Sand Village style? And where's his forehead protector?"
"Stripping clothes from enemy corpses is common on the battlefield. It can confuse inexperienced enemy ninja, and sometimes even allow infiltration by disguising oneself as the enemy. If your own clothes are too damaged in battle, you might wear an enemy's instead—after all, you can't very well strip the clothes off a fallen comrade from your own village. As for his forehead protector, either he hid it, or someone took it as a trophy."
"Sensei, if you can disguise yourself as the enemy, why strip only the clothes and not the flak vest to pose as one of us?"
"The battlefield is cruel. Wearing enemy clothing alone is already troublesome and dangerous. Unless absolutely necessary, you wouldn't take their flak vest—especially when operating alone. You'd risk being killed by your own comrades, and there's a high chance enemy ninja would see through the disguise. Besides, such clothes are usually discarded once you return to camp to avoid misunderstandings."
"Remember—on the battlefield, even small details can determine life or death."
The Sand chunin remained alert to his surroundings while patiently instructing his three students. As they spoke, they reached Tsukigami Ren's side.
"There's no blood flowing. He's been dead for quite some time; the blood has already coagulated inside his body. That's why there was no bleeding when the kunai pierced him. If it were a freshly killed ninja, you'd have to be careful—there might be enemy ninja lying in ambush nearby. Even with a corpse that's been dead this long, you must not lower your guard."
The Sand chunin analyzed the situation for his students.
"Mm! Mm!"
The three Sand genin nodded repeatedly, hurriedly committing their teacher's words to memory. These were the hard-earned lessons of survival on the battlefield.
"What if the enemy on the ground is playing dead?" a cold voice suddenly asked.
"Playing dead isn't uncommon on the battlefield either. It deceives inexperienced ninja. That's why you probe the body to confirm death. If they're pretending, they'll reveal a flaw. Otherwise, they're truly dea—"
The Sand chunin suddenly froze. That wasn't his student's voice.
His expression changed drastically. With one hand, he grabbed one of his students and retreated quickly, shouting to the other two, "Enemy! Spread out!"
The two Sand genin didn't hesitate. They immediately withdrew ten meters and stood back-to-back, vigilant.
"Your analysis was excellent. Very valuable experience. However…"
The cold voice continued. Under the watchful eyes of the four Sand ninja, Tsukigami Ren calmly reached up and pulled the kunai from his neck and head. He sat up from the ground as gray material rapidly spread across his neck, sealing the wounds in seconds.
"…there are always ninja with special secret techniques and abilities that make them impossible to guard against. For a teacher guiding students… you were still careless."
Watching his wounds regenerate in such an eerie manner, the three Sand genin felt their scalps tingle.
'A kekkei genkai ninja… and he's already killed this many of our comrades!'
The Sand chunin's body bristled with cold sweat. It wasn't just Tsukigami Ren's strange ability—it was what he saw as Tsukigami Ren rose: dozens of Sand forehead protectors pinned beneath him like trophies.
They had encountered a monster.
"Reiko, Jōgo, Aoba—run. Split up. I'll hold him off. Find a way to report this intelligence."
After only a moment's hesitation, the Sand chunin stepped forward, eyes locked on the bizarre enemy, issuing orders to his students.
He was already middle-aged. Compared to himself—a chunin who had reached his ceiling—these children, like his own, were the village's future. He didn't know if they could survive this perilous battlefield, if they could live through the war and grow strong. But at the very least, he would let them escape this certain death.
"But, Sensei—?"
"Go! That's an order!" the Sand chunin barked before they could finish. "If you stay, you'll all die. Only if you bring the intelligence back will my death have value. Split up!"
"Let's go!" one of the Sand genin gritted his teeth and called out, leading the other two as they turned and fled toward the forest by the river.
"You are a good teacher. I respect that. Unfortunately, in this war, you are Sand ninja—and I am from Konoha. My parents died at the hands of Sand ninja."
Tsukigami Ren's voice was cold. His raised hand transformed into a SPAS-12 shotgun, aimed directly at the Sand chunin.
The chunin's muscles tensed. He stared unblinkingly at Tsukigami Ren—and at the strange weapon his hand had become.
"Bang!"
The gunshot rang out, echoing far into the distance.
The tremendous impact of the shotgun blast sent the Sand chunin's body flying backward. He crashed to the ground three meters away.
"Ugh…" He groaned in agony, trying to push himself up—but no strength remained. Darkness crept into his vision.
"Sensei…!" Hearing the gunshot and turning back, the three Sand youths saw their teacher's body hurled through the air, blood spraying in an arc. Biting down on their grief, they ran desperately into the forest.
Tsukigami Ren watched them flee. Even as they disappeared into the trees, he finally lowered his hand, which had already transformed into an M249 light machine gun.
"Tch. Wasted 5 energy points. I could've used a properly fitting set of clothes."
Walking up to the dying Sand chunin, Tsukigami Ren said coldly, "They escaped. I don't plan to chase."
"Th… thank you…" the Sand chunin murmured faintly before closing his eyes forever.
'There'll probably be quite a few Sand ninja coming here next.'
Tsukigami Ren removed the Sand chunin's forehead protector and carefully gathered anything useful from the body. Then he returned to where he had been lying earlier, placed the newly collected forehead protector with the others, lay back down on top of them, and resumed sunbathing—this time refining chakra as well.