…
Murakami observed the three men standing before him in silence.
Jinta was lean and Murakami could tell that he was the fastest among them.
Watching his stance, Murakami observed that his center of gravity leaned forward excessively, making his attack patterns easier to predict.
Daigo possessed a bulky build that spoke of raw strength. Even standing still, the man's posture carried noticeable physical power.
As for Raiga…
Murakami's gaze lingered briefly on the scarred leader.
This one was more composed and from the way he looked, he was obviously more experienced.
Unlike the others, his emotions remained restrained. But even then, Murakami could not sense anything truly dangerous from the man.
No sharpened chakra.
No killing pressure worthy of concern.
Nothing that pushed him toward taking the fight seriously.
If anything…they were simply upgraded versions of the bandits already lying unconscious around the camp.
The thought had barely crossed his mind when they moved.
Jinta lunged first with a feral grin, chains rattling loudly around his arms as he burst forward with surprising speed.
At the same time, Daigo charged from the left with his massive iron club raised overhead while Raiga remained slightly behind them, curved blade drawn as he observed for an opening.
A coordinated assault.
It was crude, but functional and efficient considering their opponent.
Hideki's eyes widened instantly.
"They're fast—!"
"Be careful, Murakami!" Sora cried, but the person being attacked in question didn't move immediately.
He simply watched them approach.
The chains around Jinta's arms rattled violently as the lean bandit closed the distance first.
His hooked blade slashed horizontally toward Murakami's neck with surprising precision.
At the same time, Daigo roared and brought the massive iron club crashing downward from the left with enough force to shatter bone on impact.
Behind them, Raiga's gaze remained fixed and calculating.
A basic pincer.
Against an ordinary opponent, this would have been effective.
However, just then, Murakami moved and took a single step backwards.
Daigo's iron club crashed heavily into the earth with a deafening boom, splintering the ground where Murakami had stood moments earlier.
Almost simultaneously, Murakami tilted his head slightly as Jinta's blade passed inches from his mask.
Too close.
Too fast.
Or at least, that was how it appeared to the bandits.
Murakami's eyes remained calm.
Jinta's forward-leaning stance left his balance exposed exactly as expected.
The moment the attack missed, Murakami's hand shot forward.
His fingers grabbed Jinta's wrist mid-motion.
"Huh—?!"
The bandit's eyes widened.
Then Murakami twisted.
A sickening crack echoed through the encampment as Jinta screamed.
Before the sound fully escaped his throat, Murakami drove a knee directly into the man's stomach.
The air exploded from Jinta's lungs.
His body folded instantly.
Murakami released the broken wrist and struck the side of the bandit's neck with the edge of his palm.
Jinta collapsed unconscious before even hitting the ground properly.
"One down," Murakami muttered quietly.
Daigo roared furiously beside him and swung the iron club sideways with brute force.
Murakami ducked beneath the swing effortlessly.
The heavy weapon passed over his head with enough force to create wind pressure.
Then Murakami stepped forward into Daigo's guard, a palm striking the larger man's ribs.
Daigo's expression twisted.
Not from pain but shock.
Because despite Murakami's smaller frame, the impact made his entire body stagger sideways uncontrollably.
Murakami followed immediately.
A second strike landed against Daigo's throat.
The massive bandit choked violently, dropping his iron club as both hands instinctively grabbed his neck.
Then Murakami spun low.
A sweeping kick tore Daigo's legs from beneath him before a final downward strike slammed against the side of his head.
BOOM.
The bulky bandit hit the dirt unconscious.
Silence fell briefly across the battlefield.
Only Raiga remained standing now.
And for the first time since the fight began, the scarred leader's composure cracked visibly.
'How is this possible!? He's only a kid!' Raiga roared internally.
Outwardly, however, he tightened both hands around his curved blade, his gaze locked completely onto Murakami in fear of losing sight of him for even a second.
The boy stood there calmly amidst the unconscious bodies watching him.
Raiga's heartbeat thundered violently in his ears. But being a bandit and an experienced one at that, he wasn't one to cower in fear.
So he moved first. With a sharp shout, Raiga lunged and slashed diagonally toward Murakami's torso.
The strike was fast, far faster than the others Murakami had just knocked out.
But the moment the blade descended, Murakami vanished.
Raiga's pupils shrank. 'Too fast!'
Just then, a faint gust of wind brushed past his side and his Instinct screamed.
Raiga twisted immediately and swung backward with all his strength.
SWISH!
The blade struck empty air.
No, not empty. An afterimage.
His eyes widened violently. 'Body flicker? Impossible!'
But he was wrong.
This was not the Body Flicker Technique.
This was the Phantom Step.
Murakami's movement carried no explosive burst of chakra nor the sharp displacement characteristic of Shunshin no Jutsu.
Instead, Phantom Step was something far subtler.
A movement technique Murakami developed by combining precise chakra control with his understanding of wind flow and bodily movement.
By minimizing wasted motion and using bursts of wind chakra beneath his feet, he could propel himself with frightening speed while suppressing nearly all sound and visible disturbance.
To opponents, it felt less like he was moving and more like he was appearing where he wished to be.
Murakami's figure flickered around almost soundlessly as Raiga attacked violently, his movement so smooth it barely looked human.
Time passed and Raiga's breathing gradually roughened as his blade tore through empty air again and again.
One slash.
Two.
Three.
Each strike carried enough force to kill, yet none came close to landing as Murakami weaved through them effortlessly.
One moment in front of him.
The next at his side.
Then suddenly gone.
Raiga couldn't follow his movements in the slightest and that terrified him.
His breathing became heavier with every failed exchange while sweat poured down the side of his face.
Then suddenly, there was silence.
Raiga froze.
Murakami was gone again.
Completely.
There was no presence of the wind anywhere.
The scarred man's eyes darted around frantically.
Left.
Right.
Behind—
Just then, a soft wind brushed against the back of his neck and Raiga's body stiffened instantly.
Murakami stood directly behind him.
"You can only blame yourself for this," he said quietly.
Before the bandit could react—
CHOP.
Murakami's hand struck the side of Raiga's neck and the scarred leader's eyes rolled backward immediately.
His weapon slipped from numb fingers before his body collapsed heavily onto the dirt.
Silence returned to the encampment once more safe for the fire that crackled softly.
Smoke drifted upward into the night sky while unconscious bodies littered the campgrounds in every direction.
Murakami stood quietly in the center of it all calmly, not even his breathing had changed.
For a brief moment, nobody spoke.
Hideki stared blankly at the collapsed Raiga before slowly looking back at Murakami.
"…That was insane."
His voice came out almost like a whisper.
Sora adjusted his glasses slowly, but unlike usual, he couldn't immediately find words to say.
Because what they had just witnessed completely exceeded what they thought a fellow Genin should be capable of.
No.
Even most Chunin probably couldn't do what Murakami just did so casually.
Murakami, however, paid little attention to their reactions.
Instead, his senses spread outward once more across the surrounding forest.
In addition to the three he had just taken down, he had taken down 13 bandits. Hideki and Sora took out two respectively.
This brought their number to 17.
Coupled with the initial 7, that brought their total number to 24.
The mission stated 17-25 but they got 24 which could mean there was still one more person missing or this was all there was to them.
After a few seconds, he relaxed slightly.
"No more enemies nearby," he said calmly.
Only then did Hideki finally release the breath he had been unconsciously holding.
"We… actually did it."
Sora glanced around the ruined encampment again feeling surreal.
Days ago, they were still playing shinobi in the academy, now they were surrounded by unconscious bandits, collapsed tents and broken weapons scattered across the area.
And at the center of it all stood their small three-man team.
A strange feeling settled in his chest.
Pride.
Not because the fight was easy but because this was their first mission and they had completed it through their own hands.
Just then, slow clapping echoed from the treeline.
The Genin immediately turned while Murakami merely glanced in the direction but didn't move.
Kaito stepped out from the darkness with his usual relaxed expression, though the faint approval in his eyes was impossible to miss.
"Well," he said casually, glancing around the destroyed encampment, "looks like I won't have to step in after all."
Hideki grinned tiredly. "Hehe."
Sora exhaled quietly in relief.
Murakami simply looked toward his sensei.
Kaito's gaze lingered on him briefly before shifting toward the unconscious Raiga.
"…Interesting technique," he remarked, obviously referring to the phantom step.
Murakami remained silent, but inwardly, his thoughts drifted briefly toward Phantom Step.
Training it was one thing but using it in a fight was another.
The technique was still incomplete.
Its chakra efficiency needed work.
And against a truly skilled shinobi, it likely wouldn't be nearly as overwhelming.
He needed to completely erase the wind that followed with each step while riding the wind.
Sounded complicated but not impossible.
If anything, tonight's battle had proven that he was moving in the right direction.
The Phantom Step still carried traces of wind disturbance no matter how faint they were. Against ordinary opponents like the bandits, it was overwhelming enough to appear instantaneous.
But against experienced shinobi with sharpened senses?
Those tiny fluctuations in wind pressure would become tells.
A skilled opponent would eventually adapt.
Murakami narrowed his eyes slightly. He needed to reduce unnecessary chakra
output further while refining the transition between movement and acceleration.
Only then could Phantom Step truly become silent, invisible and untraceable like its name suggests.
But for now, it was enough.
Seeing he was being ignored by Murakami, Kaito stretched lightly before speaking again.
"Good work, Team Kaito."
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
Like it? Add to library! Have some idea about my story? Comment it and let me know.
But y'all still don't🙂↔️... Anyways, I'ma be writing and posting on my patr@on page for a while. Interested individuals can check it out here. I've got 10 extra chapters there.
[email protected]/This_Young_Lord