When Eagle nodded and glanced at Shorai, his voice was low but firm. "Shorai. You act on my signal."
The four of them melted back into the shadows, moving with the practiced silence of hunters who knew the weight of every breath. They settled into the deeper darkness of the chamber, muscles coiled and senses sharpened, waiting for Eagle's genjutsu to weave its subtle web.
Minutes stretched, the only sound the faint drip of water somewhere beyond the stone walls. Then the steps came—soft at first, then growing louder, deliberate and measured.
Three silhouettes emerged into the dim lantern light.
Two wore black and grey attire, their necks wrapped in scarves patterned with dark, swirling designs. Their lower faces were obscured by dark masks, and metal bands adorned their foreheads—each etched with a musical note-like symbol, the unmistakable mark of Orochimaru's Sound operatives.
The third figure was clad in a grimy dark grey cloak, his head wrapped in tattered bandages that concealed all but his cold, grey eyes. No head protector, no village insignia—only the shadow of menace in his gaze.
"I need more test subjects. And quickly! If you need to abduct, do it! He needs progress, yet I have nothing to offer!" The bandaged man's voice cut through the silence with a sharp roar.
The two bodyguard-like ninjas exchanged uneasy glances.
"It might compromise our operation, sir," one whispered.
"We've already stirred their concern… if they find out…" the other added, voice tense.
"To the snake's stomach you go, then! I want to see you report to the higher-ups yourself!" The bandaged man barked.
"M-my apologies, sir! We will do as you command!" they replied in hurried unison.
Eagle's hand flicked in a subtle gesture.
Shorai's body tensed, then exploded into motion.
With a low hum that distorted the air around him, he unleashed the full extent of his Shadowless Flight. In an instant, he was behind the bandaged man, his palm erupting with a focused expulsion of chakra that slammed the man against the cold stone wall.
Before the others could react, Shorai appeared between the two remaining ninjas, fingers poised with deadly precision. Two fingers from each hand targeted their temples simultaneously.
Both operatives crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
The chamber fell silent.
The three operatives regrouped swiftly.
"Nice job, rookie!" Boar's voice was a mix of approval and relief.
"Still unrefined. Risked killing them," Eagle commented, already moving to check the fallen.
Cat joined, her hands deftly placing seal tags on the unconscious ninjas.
"Stable," she confirmed. "The other two are unconscious. No memory of the attacker."
Shorai exhaled slowly, the tension easing but the mission far from over.
The four operatives gathered their composure in the dimly lit chamber, the weight of their discovery settling over them like a thick fog. The unconscious Sound ninjas bore silent witness to the secrets they had just unraveled.
Boar broke the silence, his voice low and measured. "These two were part of a covert operation assisting a 'doctor' conducting experiments. The goal: to find suitable bodies for some kind of nature chakra research, as well as to stabilize and cure special kekkei genkai through testing."
Shorai's mind raced, connecting threads from his knowledge and past experiences. He thought of Jugo, Orochimaru's cursed seals, and the various kekkei genkai individuals the snake had pursued to collect and stabilize their powers—sometimes to cure inherent afflictions, like Kimimaro's illness. This operation fit the pattern of desperate, secretive research into forbidden techniques.
Cat added quietly, "We've learned there's a newly founded village hidden somewhere in the Land of Rice, established by a magnanimous and altruistic figure shrouded in secrecy. This person provides shelter, food, work, and training, especially for orphans."
Eagle nodded. "The two goons we subdued are part of two platoons, totaling eight operatives, tasked with assisting this doctor and providing necessary support until the research is complete."
Boar frowned. "No direct connection to any known person from a bingo-book or any known faction. All communications are coded and transported through unknown messengers. No one knows who they are."
Shorai's eyes narrowed. "The only detail we managed to extract is that their village is deeply interested in techniques and abilities—especially forbidden ones—and they reward those who bring knowledge handsomely. This can explain Mizuki's dealings with them."
After carefully collecting and noting all the information, the team placed seal tags on the three incapacitated operatives to ensure they remained unconscious and unaware of their intrusion.
With cautious steps, they ventured deeper into the facility, entering a laboratory-like area. The sterile scent of chemicals mingled with the faint metallic tang of blood. They scanned the room meticulously, searching for further evidence or clues.
Despite their thorough search, they found nothing else of immediate significance.
The laboratory was quiet, almost sterile, as if waiting for the next phase of its dark purpose.
The chamber remained still for three long breaths after Eagle's warning.
Then Boar made the call.
"We leave."
No one argued.
The pages Shorai had taken from the ledger disappeared into Boar's inner pouch. Cat gave the room one last sweep—tables, shelves, screens, stains, instruments, labels—committing what mattered to memory. Eagle remained turned toward the deeper tunnel, listening until the approaching footsteps shifted direction and faded into another branch of the facility.
A narrow margin.
Enough.
"Move," Eagle said.
They withdrew the way they had come, swift and silent, leaving the crude intake chamber exactly as they had found it—save for what had been learned from it.
Back through the reinforced corridor.
Through the hidden door.
Into the warehouse.
The air there felt almost warm by comparison, thick with old rope, damp wood, and the medicinal bitterness of supplies meant to preserve bodies for uses no healer would name aloud.
The three subdued men remained where they had been left.
Cat knelt first, checking the bandaged man's pulse at the throat, then the two Sound shinobi. All three were stable. Her seal tags sat quiet against skin and cloth, suppressing wakefulness and muddying the edges of memory.
"Still under," she said.
"Their recall?" Boar asked.
Cat touched one tag lightly, feeling the formula's response. "Fragmented at best. They'll remember routine. Fatigue. Maybe a conversation. Nothing clean."
Eagle crouched by the hidden door and removed the localized mute seal from the frame with practiced care. The paper came away without a trace, tucked back into his sleeve as if it had never existed.
"No signs we were sensed," he said. "Not yet."
Boar's eyes moved once across the warehouse interior. The crates. The straps. The bottles. The false wall. The evidence was enough to condemn the place a dozen times over—but burning it now would be a mistake.
Shorai understood why before anyone said it.
A destroyed facility warned the enemy.
A surviving facility invited observation.
Boar gave him a brief look, as if noticing the same thought settle behind his eyes. "We're not here to satisfy anger."
Shorai replied without a pause. "I know."
And he did. Even if some part of him wanted to put the entire place to flame and collapse the tunnel into the hill.
That would be the act of a child.
Or of someone emotional enough to trade one victory for the loss of all future advantage.
"We reset what we touched," Cat said.
They moved efficiently.
Crate lids back where they had been.
Canvas rehung.
Dust disturbed near the hidden door brushed and blurred.
The subdued men repositioned just enough to suggest exhaustion rather than assault—one slumped against sacks, one near the crate row, one seated badly enough to imply drink or overwork.
Not perfect.
But in a place like this, perfection invited suspicion more quickly than sloppiness.
Shorai gave the room one last sensory pass, chakra thinned, attention sharpened. No new seals. No hidden observer. No fresh footsteps above.
"Clear," he murmured.
Boar nodded. "Then we go."
They exited through the side door in sequence, Eagle first, then Cat, Shorai, and Boar last. The door settled closed behind them with barely a sound.
Outside, the town remained under moonlight and old fear.
No alarm.
No shouted warning.
No running feet.
Only the soft rasp of wind along the alley and the far-off creak of some loose sign swaying above an empty street.
They moved along the north wall exactly as planned, using the same blind paths and shadow breaks that had carried them in. At the edge of the storage quarter, Eagle raised two fingers and the group paused beneath the overhang of a shuttered workshop.
He tilted his head, listening through more than hearing.
Then: "No tail."
Boar exhaled once. "Back to the inn. Stay in role."
The return somehow felt slower, not because it was, but because now each ordinary detail of the town had acquired a second shape. The shuttered houses were no longer homes alone. The textile shop was no longer a shop. The hill above them was no longer landscape. Everything had split into surface and function.
At the inn, their room remained untouched.
Boar checked the threshold seal first. Intact.
Shorai fed a thread of chakra into the linked pattern and felt its quiet answer: no entry, no disturbance, no tampering since activation.
Inside, they restored the room without wasted motion.
Window shut.
Futons adjusted.
Some masks were off, others kept on, even here, even now.
Only after Boar refreshed the corner seals and Eagle settled against the wall with another discreet hand sign did the room loosen enough for truth.
"3:20. Cat, Boar. Enough?" Eagle's gaze shifted from hand-watch to his teammates.
Cat sat near the lamp, though she did not light it. "We have enough."
Boar nodded. "More than enough."
Shorai sat with his back to the wall, pulse still steady but mind moving quickly through everything they had learned, sorting it into structure rather than shock.
"Sound-linked," he said quietly. "But compartmentalized. Deliberately."
Eagle opened his eyes. "Say it."
Shorai looked at the floorboards as if reading the mission back from them.
"Front operation built on aid and dependency. Orphans, laborers, desperate families—drawn in by shelter, food, treatment, work. Below that: screening and vetting. The 'doctor' is conducting human experimentation for body suitability, nature chakra research, and kekkei genkai stabilization or cure research."
His thoughts moved faster now, connecting known shape to unseen source.
Nature chakra.
Suitable bodies.
Stabilization.
A special bloodline that harmed its own host.
To anyone else, those were fragments.
To Shorai, they formed the outline of something darker and familiar.
Jūgo.
The curse seals.
Orochimaru's obsession with bloodlines, bodies, inheritance, and the theft of talent from those born with what he lacked.
Kimimaro's sickness flashed through his mind next—an inherited power so monstrous and so unstable that even perfection of blood could not save the body carrying it.
He kept his face neutral.
Mostly.
Cat noticed anyway. "You connected something."
"Only a possibility," Shorai said after a beat. "A pattern. Someone with enough knowledge and cruelty could use nature-reactive bodies, or unstable bloodlines, as research stock. Not just to weaponize them. To stabilize them. To imitate them. Maybe even to cure the defects that come with them."
Boar was silent for a moment. "That's not a child's conclusion."
"No," Eagle said. "It isn't."
Shorai did not answer that.
Boar took over, voice returning to report-mode. "We also confirmed a newly established hidden village somewhere in the Land of Rice. Hidden Sound. Or close enough to the concept that the distinction won't matter politically."
"Founded by a benefactor no one sees clearly," Cat added. "The story sold to recruits is generous: food, shelter, work, belonging, training. Especially for orphans."
"Convenient," Eagle said flatly.
"Effective," Boar corrected.
Shorai nodded faintly. "And dangerous."
Cat continued, "The two Sound shinobi upstairs belonged to one of two support platoons. Total count mentioned: eight assigned personnel assisting the doctor until the task is complete."
"No one knew the chain above them," Boar said. "Everything moves through coded messages and point-to-point transfer. Messengers unknown. No names. No direct superior identified beyond 'higher-ups.'"
"No direct reference to anyone... yet, medical experiments and research... I think I missed something..." Eagle said lost in thought.
"Speculation won't lead us anywhere. More information would require a deeper infiltration into their ranks or directly finding someone from a higher-up position." Cat replied voicing her thoughts.
"Clearly," Boar nodded.
The absence sat heavily in the room.
Not because it cleared anyone.
Because it meant the system was disciplined.
Shorai spoke again, quieter this time. "The only consistent motive they admitted was their village's interest in techniques and abilities. Anything rare. Anything useful. Especially forbidden knowledge."
Boar's expression hardened. "And they pay well for it."
That, more than anything, sounded like the seed of something that would grow teeth quickly in the shinobi world.
A hidden village that recruited the discarded, rewarded stolen knowledge, and experimented in secret under a mask of charity.
The room fell silent for a few seconds.
Then Eagle pushed off the wall. "We leave at first light."
Boar glanced at him. "Too soon?"
"No." Eagle's voice was calm. "If we stay, we gamble. If we leave now, we keep initiative."
Cat nodded. "Agreed."
Boar looked to Shorai last. "Can you travel after this?"
Shorai held his gaze. "Yes."
It was true. He was tired, but not spent. More importantly, he understood what this moment was.
The mission was over.
The next phase belonged to Konoha.
Boar leaned back and folded his arms. "Then the objective shifts. Survival, exfiltration, clean report."
Cat finally allowed herself a small breath of release. "You did well tonight."
Shorai blinked once.
The words should not have mattered as much as they did.
But they did.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
Eagle looked at him for a long moment, then gave the closest thing to approval Shorai had ever seen on the man's face.
"You hit too hard."
Shorai almost frowned. "I know."
"But you moved when signaled. You committed without freezing. And you adjusted after contact." A pause. "That matters more right now."
Boar snorted softly. "Hear that? From him, that's practically affection."
Cat hid a smile.
Shorai let out a faint breath through his nose—almost a laugh, almost not.
Outside, the town remained dark and deceptively still.
Above it, the hill kept its secrets for now.
But not all of them.
Not anymore.
By dawn, they would be gone from the Land of Rice—just another merchant family and two escorts leaving an ordinary town after an ordinary stay.
And carried with them, hidden in memory, in notes, and in silence, was the first real proof that something new had begun to grow in the shadows.
Something that did not yet call itself a threat openly.
But soon would.