"The objective of this C-rank mission is to eliminate the bandit group hiding in the mountains. The task requires the complete removal of all personnel in the bandit stronghold," Kakashi said coldly, his tone devoid of emotion.
"All of them? Even the old and the children?" Tom's eyes widened in disbelief. "They're not all guilty..."
Despite knowing the world of shinobi was harsh, Tom still struggled to accept the cruelty of this order. Life in this world really is treated like dirt...
"Ninjas follow orders. Those who break the rules are trash," Kakashi said, his eyes narrowing into a chilling stare.
"But feelings... what about feelings? We're still human! Some of those teens might've been born there—how is that their fault?" Tom protested. His voice trembled, but he stood his ground.
Kakashi fell silent. After a few moments, he turned away and began walking. "The mission stands," he said flatly, never looking back.
Tom clenched his fists. The weight of what was to come sat heavily on his shoulders.
---
The road to Sanling Mountain was quiet.
Tom walked in silence, his eyes occasionally glancing toward the towering peaks in the distance. There were always bandits in the world of Naruto—countless groups hiding in the wild, pillaging, murdering, and enslaving.
The bandits of Sanling Mountain were among them. They had carved a fortress into the cliffs and used natural terrain to protect themselves. Reports indicated over 80 armed bandits... and more than 200 non-combatants, including women and children.
This mission would mark Tom's first real battle since crossing into this world. It would also likely be his first kill.
The sky was dark, the clouds heavy and brooding. The wind blew cold, rustling the trees like whispered warnings.
Tom looked up. It's going to rain...
Kakashi stopped suddenly as they reached a vantage point overlooking Sanling Mountain.
"You can't save everyone, Tom," Kakashi said, staring down toward the bandit camp. "You can only protect those closest to you—your companions. Your family."
He turned to Tom with a faint glimmer of understanding in his eyes. "I'll wait here. You have two hours. Finish the mission."
With that, Kakashi leapt up into a tree, crossed his arms behind his head, and laid back like he didn't have a care in the world.
"Understood, Sensei," Tom replied.
He paused for a moment, then vanished into the shadows.
From the treetops, Kakashi watched Tom disappear into the night. "Tom... I know you're hiding something. You're not an ordinary genin. Hokage-sama knows too. I hope you truly inherit the Will of Fire... Otherwise..."
A cold gleam flashed in Kakashi's eyes.
---
Tom halted beneath a cliff, just before the main path into Sanling Mountain. The terrain lived up to its name: a single road wound up the mountain, flanked by sheer cliffs. Guards were stationed at checkpoints along the path.
Using chakra-sensing techniques, Tom detected over 80 fighters and well over 200 civilians. Many of the bandits were posted in rotations, some hidden in shadows, others in patrol teams of two.
They're well-trained, Tom thought grimly. This isn't a normal C-rank mission. Something's off.
He needed a strategy.
"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"
Poof! Thirty clones appeared in a flash.
I can't show my full strength yet. I'll keep my trump cards hidden...
"All right, here's the plan," Tom addressed his clones. "Four of you will use the Transformation Jutsu to disguise yourselves as a ninja team and draw attention at the front gate. The rest of you will infiltrate the camp through the cliffside wall and eliminate the guards."
"If the camp becomes chaotic, it means the assassination failed. That's when the disguised team strikes. Hold the exit—don't let anyone escape."
Tom's tone turned grim.
"Once inside, divide into two squads. Squad One: eliminate armed threats. Squad Two: incapacitate non-combatants quietly. Avoid unnecessary pain. We aren't monsters."
His clones nodded and dispersed into the night.
---
Inside the stronghold, the atmosphere was tense.
Tom's infiltration team moved like ghosts through the undergrowth. Using surface walking and stealth training, they climbed the rock wall silently.
The first sentry died without a sound—Tom's hand over his mouth, a kunai slicing cleanly across his neck. Warm blood sprayed onto Tom's cheek. His hands trembled.
It's been years since I killed anyone...
He lowered the body carefully to the ground, breathing hard.
Then—
"Enemy attack!! Intruders!!" a shout echoed from behind.
Tom turned, eyes cold. One quick flick of his wrist, and the second sentry fell gurgling to the ground.
Fifty-three... fifty-four... fifty-five... he began counting in his head, as if numbers could help him stay sane.
Blood flowed like a stream around his feet.
One door burst open. A screaming woman charged at him with a dagger.
Instinct took over. He lunged and plunged his kunai into her chest. Her body collapsed in his arms.
He turned, and in the dim light, saw a baby, wrapped in a swaddle, crying in the corner of the room.
Tom froze.
His eyes welled with tears.
This is what it means to be a ninja?
He took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in his throat. A part of him shattered in that moment.
---
Elsewhere in the camp, chaos erupted.
Clones fought in alleys and corridors. Bandits fell one after another, but they were no amateurs. They had knowledge of ninjutsu and were well-coordinated.
Tom was eventually surrounded by a squad of hardened fighters.
"Look at his forehead protector! He's a Konoha ninja!"
"But he's just a kid! Alone!"
"Kill him! He killed our brothers!"
Without hesitation, the gang of bandits charged.
Tom met them head-on. He ducked, dodged a spiked club, and slashed a bandit's throat. Another came at him with a spear. He twisted, countered, and plunged a kunai into the attacker's chest.
The air was filled with screams, steel, and the stench of death.
"Even if I die, I'll drag you down with me!!" one bandit screamed.
Their fury exploded into desperation.
But Tom was prepared.
"Fire Style: Great Fireball Technique!"
A flaming sphere roared to life and engulfed twenty enemies in an instant.
Their screams were short-lived.
The scent of charred flesh filled the battlefield.
Thunder cracked overhead. Rain began to pour, dousing the flames and washing blood from the stones.
One hour passed.
Tom stood at the heart of the battlefield, soaked in rain. His eyes were hollow.
The smell of burnt meat, blood, urine, and feces mingled in the air. Bodies littered the ground, mangled and lifeless. The muddy earth drank deeply from the rivers of red.
Tom raised his head slightly, letting the rain fall across his face. His expression was blank, but his hands trembled.
"It's over..." he whispered.
Then, louder. "It's... over."
He turned and walked away, the final remnants of his childhood burning behind him in the rain.