Chapter 45: The Hunter in the Forest
Laughter, ridicule, and naked killing intent—all of it converged on the single, solitary figure of Aizen Sōsuke. In the eyes of the other twenty-six teams, he was a lost lamb that had stumbled into a den of tigers, a walking prize to be claimed with minimal effort.
Yet, under the weight of all those predatory stares, Aizen remained preternaturally calm. Fear was an alien concept to him. He looked upon the gathered genin not as threats, but as a collection of insignificant insects. The real question was not if he would be hunted, but which of these foolish children would be the first to learn the terrible truth of who the true hunter was. The moment the gates of the Forest of Death swung open, the lesson would begin.
"Alright, listen up!" Anko's voice cut through the tension. "Take your consent forms and proceed to the assigned booths to receive your scroll. One team at a time!"
The process was meticulously fair. Each team entered a sealed booth to exchange their form for a scroll, ensuring no one outside could know which scroll—Heaven or Earth—any team possessed. All, of course, except for one. Aizen emerged from his booth holding both scrolls, the ultimate treasure, his demeanor as placid as if he were carrying a couple of lunch boxes. He ignored the covetous eyes tracking his every move.
There were forty-four entrances to the vast forest, more than enough to scatter the twenty-seven participating groups—twenty-six teams and one lone wolf—ensuring a chaotic and unpredictable start.
Half an hour later, with all scrolls distributed and teams positioned, Anko stood before the main gate, a wild grin on her face.
"Alright, you maggots! It's time! I hereby announce that the second exam of the Chunin Selection Exams... begins now!"
At her signal, the groups were led away to their separate entry points, vanishing into the oppressive green gloom of the forest.
Inside the Forest of Death
Aizen walked through the dense undergrowth, his steps measured and sure. Even in this hostile, alien environment, his confidence was an unshakable fortress.
He was fully aware of his situation. He was the primary target for every other participant. Logically, a lone genin, no matter how talented, should be easy prey for a coordinated team of three. But the souls residing within these young bodies could never comprehend the ancient, formidable consciousness that inhabited Aizen's. The rules of this exam, which permitted lethal force within the forest's confines, were not a danger to him; they were a license. For the first time since arriving in this world, he could temporarily set aside the mask of the humble prodigy and act with the freedom his nature demanded.
He was in no rush to reach the central tower. On the contrary, he deliberately slowed his pace, allowing time for the hunting parties to converge. He was certain that at this very moment, dozens of genin were scouring the forest for his trail.
How interesting, he mused, a faint smile touching his lips. I wonder which of them will be the first to find their end.
Elsewhere in the forest, the official Team 8—Hinata, Kiba, and Shino—had adopted a different strategy. Instead of hunting aggressively, they had chosen a concealed location and set up ambushes. Their plan worked. By feigning weakness, they quickly lured in a team from a smaller village and easily subdued them, acquiring their scroll.
"Ha! We got an Earth Scroll!" Kiba cheered, holding the prize aloft. "And we still have five whole days. This is going to be easy!"
"We cannot think like that, Kiba," Hinata interjected, her voice soft but firm. Her Byakugan-activated eyes scanned the surrounding trees with worry. "We can't just look after ourselves. We need to find Aizen and help him reach the tower."
Shino adjusted his glasses, the bugs in his jacket humming in agreement. "Hinata is correct. While we are now separate teams, Aizen remains a member of our original unit. The logical and correct course of action is to provide assistance and ensure his success as well."
Hinata looked up through the dense canopy, her heart heavy with concern. Aizen, she prayed silently, please be safe. We will find you.
Meanwhile, Aizen had moved deep into the forest's heart, far from his entry point. This was where the trails of other ninja were most likely to cross.
He had just stepped into a small, particularly dark clearing when three figures materialized on the branches above him. They were shinobi from Amegakure, their forehead protectors glinting in the filtered light. They had been lying in wait here, patient spiders in a vast web.
When they saw who their catch was, their eyes lit up with predatory glee.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Look at our luck," one of them sneered, his voice dripping with condescension. "We found the big prize so quickly." He dropped to the ground, his two teammates flanking him. "Just hand over both of your scrolls, and we might consider letting you live. Struggling is pointless. In front of hunters like us, a lone prey like you has no chance."
His words were brimming with arrogant confidence, certain of their superiority.
The response he received was not the fear or desperation he expected.
Aizen did not even look alarmed. Instead, a disdainful, almost pitying smile graced his features. He slowly raised his head, and his eyes, usually so gentle, now held a chilling, ancient depth.
"A curious illusion you suffer from," Aizen said, his voice soft yet cutting through the forest's silence like a blade. "When, precisely, did you get the idea that I was the prey?"