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Tsubasa slowly rose from his seat, his expression firm. "I stand by my decision. I won't give you the materials." His voice was steady, but there was an unmistakable edge to it. "I have no desire to make an enemy of you, Inoiki. But if it comes down to risking conflict or suffering a massive loss… I'd rather take my chances."
Inoiki studied him for a moment, then exhaled through his nose. He wasn't surprised—annoyed, yes, but he understood where Tsubasa was coming from. Greed had a way of making people blind to reason.
"So be it." His words were calm, final.
The moment his voice fell, a sudden shift filled the room. A flicker of movement. Then, in an instant, more than twenty ninjas burst into the office, short swords drawn, forming a tight circle around him. Their blades gleamed under the dim light, an unspoken threat.
Without hesitation, they lunged.
To an ordinary person, the ambush would have been overwhelming, a blur of steel and movement. But to Inoiki, it was nothing more than a slow-motion spectacle. He had sensed their presence the moment he stepped into the mansion. Their arrival was expected—almost laughably predictable.
Yet, something piqued his interest. Chakra weapons.
Every one of the ninjas wielded short swords infused with Chakra, their edges humming with power. Now that was worth noting.
A faint smirk played at the corner of Inoiki's lips. Interesting.
As the swords came down, Inoiki remained still. With a mere thought, he activated his Psychokinesis Barrier.
An invisible force expanded around him, forming a translucent shield. The ninjas' chakra-infused blades struck the barrier, sending faint ripples through the air, but none could penetrate it. Sparks flared as the energy clashed, yet Inoiki stood unharmed, utterly unfazed.
He turned his gaze toward Tsubasa, his voice calm, almost conversational. "I'm surprised you've equipped so many of your subordinates with chakra weapons."
Tsubasa, though composed, had already begun retreating toward the back of the room, his butler moving swiftly beside him. "They're my personal guards," he said evenly. "It's only natural they be powerful—and armed with the best weapons available."
Inoiki nodded slightly, acknowledging the logic behind Tsubasa's decision. But he had no intention of indulging this futile resistance.
Without warning, the weapons in the hands of the attacking ninjas trembled. Then, one by one, they were ripped from their grasps, floating effortlessly into the air. Some of the ninjas resisted, gripping their swords tightly, struggling against an unseen force.
A mistake.
The moment they fought back, their own weapons twisted violently in their hands. The unnatural movement wrenched their wrists at impossible angles—bones snapped with sickening cracks. Agonized cries filled the office as several guards collapsed, clutching their mangled arms.
Inoiki didn't even spare them a glance. The chakra weapons now hovered around him, gleaming under the dim light, awaiting his command.
Tsubasa's retreating steps slowed. For the first time, uncertainty flickered in his eyes.
With a mere flick of his fingers, Inoiki controlled the floating blades and sent them hurtling toward the remaining guards. The weapons struck with precise, calculated force—slicing into thighs, shoulders, and arms. Non-fatal wounds. Enough to render them useless in battle, but not enough to end their lives.
It wasn't out of sympathy. Far from it.
Inoiki simply preferred to keep unnecessary killings to a minimum. The Daimyo of the Land of Iron might be tolerating his actions for now, even exploiting him to rid the country of hidden threats, but Inoiki wasn't naïve. The moment he left, the Daimyo would undoubtedly report his deeds to the Fire Daimyo, who would, in turn, pass the message to the Hokage.
And that meant one thing—another long-winded lecture from Tsunade when he returned to Konoha.
Tch. The very thought irritated him. If keeping the body count low spared him at least some of her nagging, then so be it.
With the last of the twenty guards collapsing to the floor, groaning in pain, Inoiki finally turned his attention elsewhere. His sharp gaze flicked toward the open window.
Tsubasa had escaped.
As if on cue, a deafening horn suddenly blared across Tetsuyuki Town, its deep, urgent sound echoing through the streets.
A signal.
noiki's mind raced as the horn's echo faded. If my guess is right, this is a rallying signal—Tsubasa's way of gathering every ninja and samurai under his command. His personal army of a thousand.
Before he could dwell on it further, a rush of movement shattered the brief silence.
Dozens of ninjas burst through the windows, weapons gleaming under the dim light. Their attacks were immediate, merciless. One of them weaved hand signs in a blur—Water Release: Water Bullet Technique. A sphere of compressed water shot toward Inoiki, its force enough to break bones on impact.
At the same time, swords came slashing from all directions.
Inoiki stood firm. His Psychokinesis Barrier remained in place, the invisible shield absorbing every attack. The water bullet struck first, sending ripples of energy coursing through the barrier, followed by the relentless impact of steel against his defenses.
A loud crack rang through the air.
Fine fractures spread across the barrier's surface like shattered glass. More attacks followed—relentless, overwhelming.
Just a few more hits… and it'll break.
Inoiki had no intention of wasting time. Without hesitation, he controlled the twenty chakra swords he had just snatched from the previous attackers and sent them hurtling toward the new wave of ninjas.
The front-line ninjas barely had time to react before the blades struck, cutting through their defenses with precision. Just like before, Inoiki targeted non-lethal areas—thighs, shoulders, arms—incapacitating them rather than killing. The ones at the back, however, managed to escape using the Substitution Technique, vanishing in bursts of smoke before the swords could reach them.
But Inoiki barely spared them a thought. His senses, sharpened by Observation Haki, detected a new wave of enemies flooding into the mansion—Samurai.
Unlike the ninjas, these warriors wore armor, their presence distinct even without sight. Though ordinary sensory techniques wouldn't be able to tell them apart from chakra alone, Inoiki's evolved perception allowed him to see more than just energy. His mind painted a rough outline of their movements, their armor clinking softly as they surrounded the office.
So, the real fight begins, he mused, his expression unreadable.
The room grew tense, the air thick with the anticipation of battle.
...
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