Chương 126: Pranking Kakashi—High Stakes and Hasty Retreats

It was mid-August, the dead of night. Zhen Dongye's squad had drawn the graveyard shift—not that it was a particularly grueling burden. Unlike civilians, shinobi possessed the discipline to recalibrate their circadian rhythms at will, ensuring their sleep quality remained untouched by the demands of the rotation. In the deepening shadows of a building near Minato's residence, Zhen sat in silent repose, immersed in the cultivation of white natural energy.

This served as a clandestine perk of his duty to protect Kushina. As the Jinchuriki approached her delivery date, the Nine-Tails sensed the thinning of its cage. The fox had become exceptionally restless, its agitation stirring the surrounding red natural energy into a volatile, aggressive state. This surge in malevolence ironically suppressed the decomposition properties of the white natural energy, rendering it far more compliant and easier for Zhen to siphon.

He could now endure nearly an entire night of cultivation, vastly accelerating the efficiency of his physical tempering. At this rate, he almost wished Kushina were carrying Nezha—a three-year-and-six-month pregnancy would have been nothing short of perfection. The eastern horizon grew pale as the sun climbed. With the end of the shift looming, Zhen cast out his sensory net to sweep for potential threats.

His perception immediately snagged on a familiar figure—one who had a peculiar habit of visiting the cemetery at the crack of dawn. This won't do, Zhen thought. Graveyard brooding at sunrise? I'll have to break him of that habit. Zhen signaled Hayate and Yugao to maintain their vigilance, then vanished like a whisper on the wind. Before the monuments of Obito Uchiha and Rin Nohara, Kakashi Hatake stood in solitary silence, murmuring half-formed thoughts to the stone.

Eventually, he checked the time; the rotation change was imminent. He pulled down his Anbu mask, preparing to depart. Suddenly, a gravelly, rasping voice echoed from the treeline behind him.

"Much appreciated, brat. Your little monologue just fed me some exquisite intelligence. You truly are a generous soul." Kakashi stiffened. He drew a kunai in a blurred motion, his voice turning ice-cold.

"Who's there? Show yourself!" A towering figure stepped from the arboreal shadows. The stranger wore no village insignia and was wrapped so tightly in robes that his features were a mystery. A rogue? A spy? Regardless of his origin, anyone lurking here was a threat. Without a second's hesitation, Kakashi unleashed a volley of kunai. Simultaneously, he slid his headband up to reveal the Sharingan. His hands flickered through a sequence of seals, and a violent cacophony of electricity erupted in his palm. Chidori.

He lunged, a bolt of blue lightning tearing through the air. He had to silence the intruder before the intelligence could leave the perimeter. The stranger completed his own seals and slammed his palms against the earth. A modest earthen wall surged upward, intercepting the kunai and attempting to stall the charge. It was futile. Driven by the Sharingan and the stimulus of his Lightning Style, Kakashi moved with the speed of a thunderbolt.

He cleaved through the stone as if it were parchment and, before the intruder's seemingly wide-eyed gaze, drove his hand directly through the man's heart. Only then did Kakashi's keen mind register a discordance. In his haste to protect the village's secrets, his heart had been frantic—unsteady. Why would a spy, having already siphoned the information, reveal himself just to taunt his pursuer? Unless the goal wasn't just intelligence, but assassination? The figure didn't scream.

Instead, a pair of gloved hands clamped onto Kakashi's arm with an iron grip. A low, distorted chuckle vibrated from behind the mask.

"Incredible speed... the genius of the Leaf, indeed. But alas, you're finished." Kakashi strained to break free, but the stranger's strength was overwhelming. Then, he felt a faint, rhythmic pulse beneath the robes. A trap. Explosive tags!

"Damn it—!" Boom. A muffled detonation rocked the clearing. The towering figure disintegrated, but instead of blood and bone, a deluge of wild meadow flowers erupted into the air. Kakashi stared at the petals. They were common varieties found throughout the cemetery, and judging by the moisture on the stems, they had been plucked mere minutes ago. He exhaled a long, weary breath, leaning back against a tree as he massaged his temples. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve.

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"Zhen," he muttered, his voice dripping with exasperation.

"That was a tasteless joke. You could have actually killed someone." Zhen stepped out from behind a tree, a playful glint in his eyes.

"My, my. As expected of Senior Kakashi. You saw through me quite quickly." Who else in the village has such a twisted sense of humor?

"I couldn't think of anyone else. But this isn't a game!"

"A game?" Zhen's tone shifted, becoming uncharacteristically grave.

"Do you truly think I was just playing? If that had been a real infiltrator instead of me, what do you think the consequences would be?" Kakashi fell silent. After a long moment, a shiver of genuine dread passed through him.

"I understand. Thank you for the wake-up call, Zhen. It won't happen again."

"Good. The dead are gone, Senior. Those of us still breathing are the ones who need your attention. For instance, try challenging Might Guy to ten matches a day. I suspect he'd be over the moon if you did."

"I'll pass on that. It would be the death of me. Come on, it's time for the handover."

"Of course. But there's something I should mention."

"What is it?"

"My squad has an external mission starting tomorrow. We'll be gone for a few days, so you'll have to shoulder a bit more of the burden here."

"Understood. Focus on your mission." Kakashi didn't pry; a shinobi never asked about another's classified objectives. The following morning, three shadows flickered past Konoha's main gates, leaving only a posted travel permit pinned to the wood. Technically, the Yunmi squad still existed on paper, but since Yunmi Gekko was preoccupied with restructuring the Fourth's Anbu corps, the team had effectively been dissolved into autonomous units.

Zhen, Hayate, and Yugao were now seasoned enough to operate without a handler. Even as members of the Guard, they remained Anbu at heart, and that meant regular field deployments. A shinobi's edge dulled without the whetstone of real combat; cultivation alone could only take one so far. Minato had hand-picked this assignment specifically to hone his elite guard. It involved a rogue ninja—a common enough occurrence following the Great War.

While most villages were struggling with desertions, only the Hidden Cloud seemed to possess a fanatical loyalty that kept their numbers intact. The crux of the mission, however, was the client's specific demand for a high-level Fuinjutsu specialist. This piqued Zhen's interest. When he saw the request came from the mysterious Takigakure—the Village Hidden in the Waterfall—his suspicions were confirmed. He had personally requested the mission from Minato, who saw no reason to refuse.

After six months of tutoring under Kushina, Zhen was arguably among the top sealing experts in the village. During a break on the road, Yugao turned to him.

"Zhen, does the Hero's Water of the Waterfall really possess the legendary power they say?"

"It does," Zhen replied.

"And the reality is even more staggering than the myths." Hayate chimed in, "I've heard the tales. Supposedly, it causes a shinobi's chakra to swell ten-fold. Perhaps that's why the rogue ninjas are targeting them." Yugao frowned, piecing it together.

"If they have such a weapon, why would they need to hire Konoha? The strength of the Waterfall seems to diminish every year. It's a contradiction." Zhen smiled thinly.

"It's no contradiction. The Hero's Water is real, but it carries a heavy price. Eight out of ten who drink it die instantly. Those who survive don't last much longer. Death is the only eventual outcome. There are no exceptions." Yugao shivered.

"Then the rogues are fools. The information shouldn't be that hard to uncover. They're fighting for a bottle of poison."

"They have nothing left but their lives," Zhen said, standing up.

"When you're desperate for power, you'll gamble on anything. They think they'll be the exception to the rule. Pure hubris. Let's move." By four in the afternoon, they reached the outskirts of Takigakure and made contact with the client. As Zhen stood amidst the spray of the mountain falls, he sensed a faint, familiar resonance—the erratic, heavy pulse of a Tailed Beast. Just as I thought. Perfect timing. Takigakure was unique—the only minor village to possess a Tailed Beast. The Seven-Tails, Chomei, was kept here.

And by the look of things, it was time for a change of hosts.