Time flew by, and before he knew it, more than a month had passed.
The same familiar seaside. The same small, quiet hut.
In the afternoon, sunlight bathed the land in warmth.
Creak~ The door of the hut swung open. Reiji stepped out, neatly dressed and full of energy.
He casually pulled out a mirror.
"Holy crap! Who's this dark-skinned dude?!"
Startled, Reiji immediately flung the mirror away—he'd managed to scare himself.
But none of that really mattered.
What mattered was that, after more than a month of relentless effort from thousands of shadow clones working day and night...
He had finally mastered the advanced technique of the Flying Thunder God—Flying Thunder God: Mutually Instantaneous Revolving Technique—just before he lost his mind completely.
In his last communication with Konoha's contact, Reiji had already finalized their future method of contact.
There would be no connections inside Kumogakure. All information would be exchanged within the borders of the Land of Hot Water. Messages would be delivered by shadow clones.
Additionally, everything he reported would be dictated verbally—nothing would be written down.
Konoha's reply was that Tsuchigami, his old acquaintance, would be his contact point, stationed long-term in the Land of Hot Water.
With no worries behind him and all preparations complete, Reiji stepped onto his massive doorboard sword and prepared to set out.
This time, he would infiltrate the Land of Lightning from the sky.
The Land of Lightning—known for its towering peaks that pierced the clouds, its humid climate, and its constant thunderstorms. Entering from the air meant his chances of getting struck by lightning were a hundred times higher than normal.
That was exactly why the Land of Lightning had almost no aerial defenses.
Reiji's skin might have been dark, but his hairstyle was still lacking.
His target, Raimei, had a loud, obnoxious afro.
Reiji's medium-length, choppy hair clearly wasn't enough.
So, what to do?
He formed hand seals. The greatsword lifted off the ground, and Reiji stepped onto it, hands behind his back, coat flapping in the wind as he soared toward the far side of the sea.
...
Soon after, Reiji—now sporting a freshly styled afro—arrived at his first destination: Temple of Wind and Thunder.
The temple stood at the foot of a tall mountain, nestled into its base. Its ornate carvings and grand architecture gave off a stately air.
From a distance, he could already hear the solemn tolling of its great bell.
Twilight was setting in—perfect timing for an infiltration.
Reiji descended with his sword and touched down on the ground. His smoking afro puffed up as he crept closer to the famed temple of the Land of Lightning.
"Secret Technique: Nurarihyon Technique!"
With swift hand seals, a gray mist rose around his body, blending him perfectly into the thick brush.
At the same time, he formed another seal.
"Go!"
With a low command, the giant sword launched into the air once more, hurtling skyward to its designated position.
Once it was in place, Reiji finally lowered his head and began walking—slow, steady steps toward the temple.
One step.
Two steps.
He drew closer.
Just then, a dark-skinned middle-aged man wearing a Kumogakure forehead protector leapt from the temple's red brick wall.
"Who's in the grass?" he called out coldly.
The next moment, three more Kumo shinobi jumped out from inside the wall.
"Attack!"
Before Reiji could say anything, a kunai with an explosive tag tied to the ring flew straight at him.
What the hell, guys?! Are you for real?!
No time to think. Just as the explosion hit, Reiji vanished from his position and reappeared on the airborne sword high above.
A deafening boom echoed below, and a brief flash of fire lit up the fading dusk.
"Captain, did we get him?"
The first man, now identified as their leader, narrowed his eyes and shook his head.
"No. His chakra vanished in an instant. Must've been a clone."
With that, he leapt back onto the temple wall with practiced agility.
"Search that patch of grass."
"Yes!" the other three responded in unison.
...
In the sky, Reiji furrowed his brows.
A mistake. A rookie mistake.
Can't believe I slipped up like that… Must've gotten cocky after the Konoha job. No, I've gotta refocus.
He still remembered one of the lessons Mizukuma had drilled into him.
As an undercover agent, before infiltrating any location, you had to thoroughly understand its customs and, more importantly, the typical personality of its people.
Reiji had read tons of intel Konoha had gathered on Kumogakure. He thought he understood the place.
And yet—he'd nearly blown his cover right at the start.
But it wasn't too late.
Now was the time for Lesson Two from Mizukuma: Blend in with the village's collective personality as much as possible.
In Konoha, Reiji hadn't needed to worry much. The village was so tolerant, even the weirdest characters could fit in.
But Kumogakure?
Totally different.
This village—with hardly any missing-nin and little dirt on its record—was nothing like Konoha.
Thankfully, those older brothers back at the temple had already shown him what the village's vibe was all about.
Just one word:
Reckless.
Reiji's lips curled slowly into a wide grin, revealing a set of gleaming white teeth.
"In that case, we're changing the battle plan!"
As he spoke, Reiji's hands flashed through hand seals.
"Transformation Technique!"
With a low shout, he changed into an unremarkable middle-aged man.
"Next… this is the one!" he muttered, pulling a few bricks from inside his cloak.
Aiming for the temple roof below, Reiji threw the bricks with practiced ease.
"Let's go!"
Whoosh!
The bricks spun rapidly as they plummeted, crashing onto the old temple's green-tiled rooftop.
Boom! A heavy thud echoed as the bricks smashed through the ancient roof, breaking the tranquil silence of the temple.
Moments later, a bald old monk came running out from the main hall.
A huge lump, the size of a peach, swelled on top of his gleaming head.
"Which damn bastard did this?!"
He looked up and spotted the flying sword in the sky—and the nondescript middle-aged man standing on it.
The monk's eyes instantly went wide. He pointed at the sky and began cursing.
"You little punk! Get your ass down here! Didn't your mama teach you not to throw bricks at people?!"
Reiji burst into laughter.
Oh damn—this bald geezer's got a foul mouth!
But he didn't bother responding. Stone-faced, he silently pulled out another stack of bricks from his backpack.
When I can't win, I curse. When I can, I go all in.
"Let's go!"
Another brick shot downward, whistling through the air as it slammed toward the monk's shiny head.
"Whoa—dodge!"
The monk twisted his hips dramatically, just barely avoiding the strike, then smugly flipped him the middle finger.
"You brat! Don't you know bricks are for building walls? Come down here and let this master slap your face full of pimples!"
Nearby, the gathered Kumogakure shinobi looked on speechlessly.
"Master Chōkū, that's a middle-aged man, not a brat. You should probably take cover…"
"Bullshit! Can't you see through a Transformation Technique?!"
Fuming, the old monk shoved the Kumo ninja aside, pointed at Reiji again, and shouted,
"You little bastard, come down here and let this Master fix your brain. Then we're even!"
He weighed the brick in his hand.
Reiji's face darkened.
Even? I'll make you even... with the pavement.
Muttering, he hurled another brick with blinding speed.
Whoosh!
The old monk curled his lip in disdain and twisted his hips again, dodging with practiced ease.
But just as the brick brushed past him, a voice—nastier than his own—whispered in his ear.
"Flying Thunder God Strike."
Clang!
The chime of impact rang like a temple bell.
In an instant, the monk was knocked flat by a middle-aged man wielding a brick.
And within seconds, that man vanished without a trace.
...
The surrounding shinobi gasped in shock.
A young kunoichi hurried over to help the old monk up.
But when she got a clear look at the top of his bald head, she couldn't help but burst out laughing.
Her laughter triggered a wave of glances from the sky-watching ninjas around her.
One by one, they turned their heads—then all at once, they looked away, cheeks flushed red.
Master Chōkū wobbled as the giggling kunoichi helped him to his feet. Dizzy and dazed, he reached up to touch his throbbing head.
The moment he felt it, his eyes bulged wide. Slowly, shakily, he looked up at the sky, his face twisted with pure rage.
"Amitābha! You little shit, get down here! I'm about to enlighten you—with my fists!"
Perched on his greatsword, Reiji squatted with a half-smile, weighing another brick in his palm. He called down loudly,
"Master! You've got a butt growing on your head!"
The monk exploded with fury. He hurled the brick in his hand at Reiji with all his might—but sadly, while his bald head could take a beating, his throwing arm was trash.
The brick failed to beat gravity. It plummeted and nearly hit one of his own men.
Seeing this, Master Chōkū pointed up and unleashed a tirade of profanity—each curse somehow starting with, "Did your mother never teach you…"
Reiji didn't respond. No matter how vicious the rant, he just repeated:
"You've got a butt growing on your head."
...
Realizing he couldn't outfight or outcurse him, Master Chōkū finally lost it. He grabbed a ninja nearby.
"Storm Release—quick! Shoot that punk down!"
The middle-aged ninja glanced at the two giant lumps swelling on the monk's head. When he leaned in for a closer look, he noticed one of the lumps had something written on it.
"Want to go somewhere? Then go wherever you want!"
Struggling to hold back his laughter, the ninja replied,
"Master… he's too far. It'll be hard to hit him."
"Shoot anyway!!"
The monk was practically frothing with rage, his beard shaking as he roared.
Sighing, the ninja made quick hand seals, then pressed his palms together and aimed at Reiji.
"Storm Release: Laser Circus."
In an instant, four or five laser-like beams burst from his fingertips.
...
Meanwhile, not far away in Kumogakure, a streak of blue lightning shot from the village gates.
A figure leapt across the mountain ridges at terrifying speed.
Seeing this, Reiji smirked and made a hand seal with one hand.
"Bye! Flying Thunder God Technique!"