Chapter 28: Walking into a Trap

[Shinji's POV]

As we landed on the shores of the Land of Water, the first thing I noticed was the vast beaches and pristine waters stretching as far as the eye could see. If it weren't for the endless conflicts, this place could have been a thriving tourist paradise. But instead, it was marred by war and oppression, all thanks to a single old man and his grand plans.

"Which village should we investigate first?" Akira asked, scanning the map Yamato had given us.

"The ones where the kidnappings are most recent," Akane answered, efficiently marking four villages in close proximity. "Older cases will be harder to track."

I leaned over, studying the map. The pattern of abductions seemed random, or at least followed a logic we didn't yet understand. "If we don't find any useful leads in these, we'll expand our search radius."

Yamato simply nodded, letting us take the initiative. He was clearly testing us, seeing how we handled investigations on our own.

Our first destination was a small island, meaning we still had days of travel ahead.

After several days of ferrying across the sea and running through dense forests, we finally arrived at a modest settlement, no larger than seventy-five houses. It had no real defenses, save for a few village guards with rusty weapons—men who looked more like farmers than warriors.

"So, what's the first step in a missing-person case?" Yamato asked as we entered the village, his tone neutral.

The moment we set foot inside, I noticed how tense the villagers were. They stared at us from behind doors and windows, eyes filled with wary suspicion. It was clear that whatever experience they had with shinobi before wasn't a pleasant one.

"We need to question the village head and gather information on the victims," Akane answered smoothly, prepared for the task ahead.

Yamato nodded. "Good. I'll speak with the village leader. You three talk to the villagers and see what you can find."

But finding answers turned out to be more difficult than we thought.

The villagers avoided us. Many outright refused to speak, while others turned and fled the moment we approached. The fear in their eyes was clear as day. Something had broken them.

We had been wandering aimlessly, getting nowhere, when a sudden shout echoed through the streets.

"What you kids are doing here is useless! They were all from bloodline clans—that's why they were killed! No one is missing! They're all dead! All DEAD!"

A man in tattered clothes stumbled toward us, eyes wild, his breath ragged.

Before he could get any closer, I swiftly struck his wrist, preventing him from grabbing Akane. He stumbled back, blinking in confusion.

I grabbed him by the collar. "Explain clearly. Who killed them?"

His lips trembled. "I don't know anything! Please, don't kill me! Don't kill me!"

Before I could press him further, he collapsed, hyperventilating until he passed out.

The surrounding villagers had been watching. The moment I turned toward them, they disappeared behind doors, slamming them shut in fear.

This place has already been investigated. But by who?

Just then, Yamato returned from his meeting with the village head, his expression unreadable.

"I got nothing. They don't want any involvement with shinobi. Whoever was here before us scared them—thoroughly."

I gestured to the unconscious man. "He claims all the missing people were from bloodline clans—and that they were killed, not taken."

Yamato frowned. "That complicates things. If this is a systematic purge, it's far more than a rogue ninja case."

Akira stepped forward. "We can't abandon the mission just because it's dangerous. Let's check the other villages before making a decision."

"If they're hunting bloodline clans, a lot more people will die," I added. "And Kiri won't lift a finger to stop it."

Yamato sighed, clearly torn. "This isn't our responsibility. It's not Konoha's duty to interfere."

"But we can at least see if there's anyone left to save," Akane said firmly.

Yamato looked at us, then exhaled in resignation. "Fine. We'll check the other villages. But if the situation gets worse, we retreat. Your lives come first."

We nodded and moved on.

But something inside me knew—we wouldn't be leaving this mission unscathed.

[Unknown Location]

Dark clouds loomed overhead, matching the eerie silence that hung in the air. Two men in Kiri Anbu masks stood in the middle of a ruined village. Smoke and blood tainted the air.

"Do you think they'll come?" the first man asked.

The second, a figure with green hair, let out a dark chuckle. "Doesn't matter. If they do, I'll get to hold another funeral."

The first man scoffed, stepping over a corpse. "Why did you even bother with this place?"

"They annoyed me." The green-haired man's fingers crackled with electricity. "Besides, I wanted another funeral."

The first man shook his head. "And they call me the Demon of the Mist."

Nearby, a frail boy with crimson eyes sat against a broken wall, his small hands trembling as he took in the destruction around him.

"Will you really show me the world?" he whispered.

The green-haired man knelt beside him. "Of course. From now on, I'll be your body, and you'll be my eyes. We'll see everything together."

The boy hesitated, looking at the burning remains of his village. "But… they gave me food. They took care of me…"

The man's smile widened with tears streaming down his face. "They were starving you. The moment they found out about your bloodline ability, they turned on you. Why would you want them to live?"

The boy remained silent, his red eyes glowing softly as he watched the last embers fade to ash.

"Besides," the man added, standing up, "I don't feel anything when I kill. Shouldn't that be normal?"

The boy looked up at him, and for the first time, a question formed on his lips. "Why?"

The green-haired man didn't answer.

The village fell into silence, broken only by the distant crash of thunder.

[Shinji's POV]

Somewhere in the Land of Water, a village burned.

And we were heading straight for it, my heart racing as we saw the burned corpses littered around and the perpetrator of this standing in front of newly dug graves with a tears falling from his eyes and smile on his face.