Ryusei’s expression finally hardened, the playful edge slipping away as his voice cut through the clearing.

“You two think joining Anbu is some grand prize. But have you ever asked if their goals are even aligned with yours? Or if you’ll survive long enough for it to matter?”

He let the silence hang for a moment, then added with a faint curl of his lips.

“Today, your odds of walking away were barely fifty–fifty. Do you understand that? This area is crawling with Kumogakure patrols. Any one of them could have sensed us already. The situation is obvious if you bother to think.”

“The higher-ups made sure it was win–win for them. If you killed me quickly, good. If not, and more likely, you three got tangled here just long enough for a Kumo squad to arrive and wipe us all out? Also good.”

Ryusei tilted his head slightly, his tone sharpening into that quiet, villainous amusement.

“To them, you’re talented tools, nothing more. Tools that can be discarded the moment it’s convenient. Dealing with me is far more valuable to them than anything you could offer. That’s the reality. You gambled your lives today, not for your own future, but for someone else’s disposal plan.”

In truth, Ryusei exaggerated.

He had felt firsthand how potent that pill in Okabe’s hand really was. 

But only he knew that.

Only he had been close enough, his senses tracing Okabe’s body inside and out in that final moment.

Kanae and Renjiro had no such insight.

All they saw was how quickly, how effortlessly, Ryusei had put Okabe down.

To them, it only confirmed his words that the higher-ups had dragged them here not to succeed but to slow him down and die with him once the Kumo patrols inevitably closed in.

Kanae’s throat felt dry.

She hadn’t loosened her stance, but her arms trembled the longer she held them up.

Her eyes darted once toward Okabe’s corpse, then back at Ryusei.

“…Are you saying they sent us here to die?”

Her voice was cold, but beneath it, there was the faintest crack.

Renjiro, however, didn’t flinch.

He kept his sword at his side, but the edge in his eyes dulled a little.

He had already been weighing the same thought.

“Tch… I wouldn’t put it past them. Tools, like you said.” He glanced at Kanae briefly, then back at Ryusei. “But what are you getting at? That we side with you instead?”

Ryusei’s expression didn’t change, still that narrow-eyed look that only made his words cut sharper.

He let the silence stretch a little before speaking.

“You tell me. You’ve seen enough to know your choices. Stay loyal to masters who would throw you away in the mud, or… pick the lesser risk standing in front of you.”

Kanae bit down hard on her lip, fists tightening.

For a moment, she looked as if she might shout back, but no words came.

Renjiro finally exhaled and said flatly, “Then prove you’re the lesser risk. Otherwise, it’s just trading one dead end for another.”

Ryusei’s narrow-eyed smile didn’t waver.

His tone, however, was calm, cutting, and deliberate.

“I don’t need to prove anything to either of you. This is the next logical step. Even if I let you go today, scot-free, you’d only be dragged back into another setup like this tomorrow. Another mission.”

“Another chance to be used as bait, or blades, or corpses. You already know it. The only way this cycle breaks is if I grow strong enough that using you against me becomes pointless. That is your one escape.”

Renjiro narrowed his eyes, blade still half-drawn, but his posture easing.

“So you’re saying… we live, but we don’t stop reporting. Just… selectively, huh?”

Ryusei’s grin widened, but it wasn’t warm. “Exactly. You’re smart. For now, you do what you’ve been doing. Send them reports, make them believe you’re still dutiful little pawns. Just leave the right things out. That’s all.”

“Once I reach elite jōnin strength, and it won’t take me long, I’ll reveal it myself. By then, they’ll have no choice but to play another game entirely, and your reports will mean nothing. You’ll be free to pursue your ANBU dreams without being tied to my throat.”

He tilted his head, voice dipping lower, almost mocking. “They use you because you’re convenient. So use them back. Be pragmatic in your loyalty, the way they are pragmatic in discarding you. Or keep playing the dutiful martyrs, and see how long you last.”

Kanae flinched as if struck.

Her fists trembled, her Byakugan veins still faintly raised.

She opened her mouth, then closed it, her throat tightening.

Finally, her words slipped out sharp, but hollow.

“…You make it sound so simple.”

Ryusei turned his gaze on her, amused. “That’s because it is. Your feelings are what complicate it.”

Her breath caught, chest tightening.

Renjiro, meanwhile, exhaled through his nose, sword lowering another inch.

His voice came quieter, more thoughtful than defiant now. “…If what you’re saying is true, then the only winning move is to stall. To live long enough for you to become someone they can’t use us against.” He chuckled bitterly. “Tch. Feels like gambling with a loaded dice.”

Ryusei shrugged, unbothered. “Then think of it like this, your current masters are already gambling with your lives. The difference is, I’m offering you odds that improve with time.”

Silence hung for a moment. Kanae clenched her fists so tightly her knuckles whitened, but she didn’t speak. Renjiro’s jaw tightened, his eyes darting toward Kanae, then back at Ryusei.

Neither voiced agreement. But neither attacked.

And in that silence, Ryusei knew he had already won the first step.

Ryusei let the silence stretch a little longer before exhaling softly.

His expression shifted, the sharp edge of his grin smoothing into something calmer, almost weary.

“…Enough. I’ve said what I needed to. I understand your position this time. I don’t blame you.”

His narrow eyes softened, voice lowering just enough to sound almost sincere.

“If you hadn’t followed orders, it would’ve been your heads on the block, not mine. You should already know my hidden identity by now, and you know better than anyone that they don’t play around when it comes to things like that. You were trapped in their hands as much as I was. I get it.” He paused, scanning their faces before speaking again, this time slower, with deliberate weight.

“In truth, I regard you both as comrades after all this time. Maybe more than comrades. We’ve bled together, carried out missions side by side, survived what should’ve killed us more than once. And I still believe we can cooperate even more in the future.”

His gaze lingered on Kanae for a moment before moving to Renjiro.

“My words aren’t tricks. They’re heartfelt. What you’re both chasing, what you want, the recognition, the freedom, the strength, this village’s rotten higher-ups will never give you. They’ll keep you on a leash until you’re drained dry.”

“On the other hand, I might be weaker than them now, but you’ve already seen what I’m capable of. You’ve seen my potential. If I can help you climb higher, I will.”

For the first time since Okabe’s body had hit the ground, the killing intent in the air dimmed.

The pressure eased, leaving only the quiet sounds of the forest around them.

Kanae’s fingers twitched against her palms, Byakugan veins slowly fading as she struggled to control her breathing.

Her voice came out barely audible, almost strangled.

“…You don’t know what you’re saying.”

But her words lacked conviction.

Renjiro’s eyes stayed locked on Ryusei, the bitterness in them flickering with something else, uncertainty.

He grunted softly, lips pressing into a thin line before he finally muttered, “…Comrades, huh. Don’t expect me to say I trust you. Not yet. But…” He sheathed his blade, the metal sliding home with finality. “…I’ll see where this goes.”

Kanae turned her face away, her fists still trembling at her sides.

She didn’t speak again, but the fact that she hadn’t stepped forward to strike was its own kind of answer.

Ryusei’s narrow smile returned, quieter now, but sharper in his mind than ever.

He finally exhaled, his smile thinning back into a serious line.

“Enough talk. We need to move.”

Kanae’s voice cut in immediately, sharp but low, betraying the still slight tightness in her chest.

“…And what about his body?” Her pale eyes flicked once toward the crumpled corpse of Okabe. “If they find out, there’ll be no turning back for any of us.”

Ryusei turned to her slowly, as if the question amused him.

“Relax. I’ll handle it and arrange his corpse better later.” He crouched down over Okabe’s body, already weaving seals alongside scrolls. “I’ll seal him away for now, take him with us.”

“Then I’ll leave behind a few clones. When I give the signal, those clones will lure enemy scouts here with very enticing sensory maneuvers. By the time they arrive, we’ll already be gone.”

Renjiro frowned, sword still loose at his side. “And the report?”

Ryusei’s grin returned, sharp and mocking.

“You two will lie, of course. Tell them that before you even managed to coordinate with Okabe, Kumo patrols found us. They outnumbered us. Okabe died first, overwhelmed. Nothing suspicious about that. It even makes us look loyal. Dying to Kumo isn’t part of the mission.”

Kanae’s throat tightened. “That won’t hold if they press for details…”

Ryusei waved her off. “Our mission orders didn’t forbid retreat when outnumbered. That’s the hole they left themselves. Passing such information back is reasonable. You just have to act convincingly terrified. Which shouldn’t be too hard, judging by the sweat on your palms.”

Kanae’s lips parted in protest, but no words came.

She clenched her fists harder instead, furious at her own body betraying her.

Renjiro’s eyes narrowed. “…But if we come back unscathed, won’t it look strange?”

Ryusei chuckled darkly, then, without warning, created a shadow clone.

The clone launched a crackling Lightning Release straight into Ryusei’s own chest.

His body jerked violently, the smell of singed cloth filling the air.

Both Kanae and Renjiro flinched back, eyes wide.

Ryusei staggered upright again, smoke curling from his flak jacket, his grin intact.

“There. Now it looks like I fought for my life.” He glanced at Kanae, his tone mockingly playful, the same as before. “See? Strong body, remember? Don’t look so worried.”

For the first time, Kanae’s mask cracked, her jaw tightened, and her eyes flickered, unable to decide whether to scowl or to… something else.

Renjiro let out a sharp breath. “…You’re insane.” But despite himself, a grudging respect crept into his voice.

Ryusei ignored both of them, setting the last clone in place. Enough to pull Kumo units here like moths to flame.

“By the time they sweep in, they’ll find signs of battle, traces of Kumo chakra everywhere, and Okabe missing in the chaos.” Ryusei rose smoothly, dusting himself off. “Clean, believable, and convenient.”

He gestured for them to move, already leaping back into the treeline.

“Now, unless you both want to stay and explain things to Kumo personally, we should be gone.”

Kanae hesitated, her breath still unsteady, but fell in behind him.

Renjiro followed, silent, his gaze lingering once more on Ryusei’s back before finally pulling away.

And so the three of them vanished back into the canopy, their banter muted now but still present, the fragile illusion of teamwork holding together – barely.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep