Five days had passed since Taiichi left the Leaf camp again. In that time he'd hit two Sand supply convoys, and the moment he showed up the nickname "White Death" became permanent in the Land of Wind. Every time he started an attack the Sand ninjas started screaming it at the top of their lungs. If they weren't so damn numerous he would've silenced every last one of them.
Right now he sat on the rooftop of a tall building in Narisuna, back against the wall, chewing on the city's so-called specialty food while his chakra sensing swept the streets below. The city's heart was right under him; his range covered most of it.
Anyone close enough would've noticed his eyes glowing faint blue, a thin film of light covering his irises. That was his latest trick—Soul Vision. He'd pushed Spirit Transformation further so he didn't have to leave his body to use it. Safer that way. He hated risking his soul.
The new sight made judging strength ridiculously easy. Jonin souls were bigger and brighter than chunin or genin—about the size of a football and glowing like torches in the dark. Right now he counted eighteen jonin scattered across the city, most of them clearly Sand guards at key points. Two of them stood out though. They moved on opposite sides of the city, both radiating heavy purple in their soul flames—Lightning Release specialists.
Taiichi narrowed his eyes. He remembered the Cloud strike team he'd wiped out and framed on Sand. These two showing up at the same time felt too convenient.
He focused his sensing on the closer one. The man's face came clear in his mind—no dark Cloud tan, skin too clean for a desert native. The second one was the same. Both looked more like Fire Country shinobi. Disguised.
The closer spy suddenly stopped, scanning the rooftops—right toward Taiichi. Taiichi rolled behind the wall instantly, killing the enhanced sensing and stuffing another piece of dried meat in his mouth.
"Sharp bastard," he muttered. "I barely cranked it up and he noticed. Definitely not here for sightseeing."
That night Taiichi didn't teleport back to camp. He stayed in the city, watching the two Lightning users. Something told him they were carrying useful intel.
At eight o'clock the city lit up with nightlife—lanterns, street stalls, the usual chaos. Taiichi was getting bored when both spies suddenly changed direction and headed for the center of town. He perked up, flipped off the roof, and slipped into a decent-sized izakaya ahead of them.
He ordered a few dishes and ate casually. Minutes later the two men walked in. Instead of pretending not to know each other they sat together openly, laughing and talking loud about "business being slow in the Land of Fire, trying their luck in Wind Country."
Taiichi sat close enough to hear every word. If he hadn't already confirmed they were jonin he might've believed the act. Their chakra sensing stayed light, but under the table one of them tapped a steady rhythm with his fingers—code.
Professional spies. Taiichi finished his food, paid, and left. No point sticking around. He had the confirmation he needed.
Inside the izakaya the two men kept chatting while their fingers spelled out the real message.
"Village sent word—A-sama's team already left. We need to be ready to receive them."
"Do we know where they're landing?"
"Not yet. They'll tell us when they're close."
"I think I was being watched today. Couldn't spot who."
"Remember—if we get made, we're Leaf ninjas."
"Got it. Everything for the village."
The next morning Taiichi woke on a rooftop, dismissed his night-shift clone, and checked the memories. Nothing major. He teleported back to the Leaf camp long enough to drop off three shadow clones at the medical tents, then returned to Narisuna.
He spent the morning wandering with his sensing active, watching Sand patrol routes. By late morning he spotted a perfect target—a Sand chunin stumbling out of a pink-decorated inn with bloodshot eyes and shaky legs. Guy had clearly spent the night getting drained dry. No one would miss him for a day.
Taiichi marked him, teleported outside the city, dug an underground hideout with Earth Release, left two clones on watch, then activated Spirit Transformation.
His soul slipped free. He nodded at his clones, faded from view, and flew straight back to the chunin.
The man turned into an empty alley. Taiichi's soul slammed into his body. A violent wave of rejection hit him—the man's soul fighting back—but Spirit Transformation was built for this. Taiichi shoved the original soul deep down and took full control.
He flexed the borrowed hands, stomped the feet, testing the new shell. Weird as hell. But the body felt weak—mid-chunin at best, and clearly exhausted from last night's fun. Chakra felt like stagnant water; he couldn't move it at all. Looks like he'd be stuck with taijutsu only. One real fight and this body would probably fall apart.
He walked the possessed chunin straight out the city gates like he owned the place. Once clear he returned to his real body, soul sliding back home with that perfect rush of power. Nothing beat your own flesh.
He left a clone watching the unconscious chunin and headed back into the city to shadow the two spies again.
By noon they finally left Narisuna. Taiichi grinned. "Showtime."
He teleported ahead, changed into fresh gear, and walked openly down the road straight toward them.
The two Cloud spies stayed relaxed. Just another mid-rank Sand ninja. Nothing to worry about. They kept walking and talking.
Taiichi closed the distance fast. When they were barely five meters apart he exploded forward with Body Flicker, ignoring the pain in his legs, and drove a kunai straight at the closest spy's chest.
"Cloud scum! Finally caught you bastards! Today you die!"
The spies froze for half a second—pure shock—then reacted. One twisted aside; the kunai only grazed his arm. Both immediately went on the offensive.
Taiichi didn't stop. He sprinted past them, yanked a Sand signal flare from his pouch, and fired it skyward. The bright red streak screamed upward, impossible to miss from Narisuna.
"Shit—he knows! Kill him now!"
The two jonin attacked in a frenzy. Taiichi's borrowed body took hit after hit, blood soaking the borrowed clothes, but he kept dodging vital spots. He was just a mid-chunin shell against two angry jonin; surviving this long was already a miracle.
"Cloud dogs! Attacking us again after last time? I'll make sure Sand knows every filthy detail of your plan!"
The spies snarled, pouring on more pressure. Every second counted. If Sand reinforcements arrived before they finished him, their cover was blown.
Back in Narisuna, four Sand squads had already linked up under two jonin and were sprinting toward the flare. They covered the distance fast.
Five hundred meters out they saw the fight—two outsiders hammering a lone Sand ninja.
No more questions. Time to rescue their own.