Born To Rise In Konoha

"According to the mission parameters, our job was to investigate the surrounding area. We've already covered enough ground—going any deeper is beyond our current team's capacity."

The speaker was a burly man with thickly muscled arms—each about the same size as Saitama's thigh.

Saitama frowned, unable to sense the enemy's strength. He remained still, wary of making the first move.

"All right, stay sharp and prepare to withdraw," the kunoichi whispered. She was the team's sensory type, acting as their eyes and ears. "We're too close to the enemy's camp. There might be hidden sentries nearby."

"Hm?" Just as she finished speaking, she caught a faint chakra fluctuation in the earth nearby. It was subtle—but noticeable to a trained sensor.

"Wait," she signaled to her teammates, eyes narrowing toward the patch of land where Uchiha Huo was hiding.

"Whish—" The entire squad immediately tensed. The jōnin drew the massive broadsword from his back—a heavy blade with a dull edge, built for crushing.

"Tch." Saitama's gaze sharpened. He realized their position was compromised. The enemy had noticed them—combat was unavoidable now.

"Who's there?" one of the enemy shinobi called out, cautiously stepping toward Uchiha Huo's hiding spot.

The air seemed to grow heavier, the wind falling still. Cold sweat dripped down Huo's forehead. He had shifted slightly from fatigue, unintentionally exposing the thin chakra veil concealing him.

Huo's eyes darted toward his comrade, Uchiha Yan, who crouched behind a nearby tree. His lips tightened, veins bulged at his temples—his Byakugan already activated.

The enemy stepped closer, nearly at Huo's position.

"Swish!"

A blur fell from above. A flash of blue-white lightning lit the scene. Saitama descended like a thunder god, his body wrapped in Lightning Release Chakra Mode.

"Now!" Huo didn't hesitate. As soon as he saw the signal, he launched himself forward like a bullet, propelling toward the nearest enemy.

"Watch out!" one of the Mist shinobi shouted, but it was too late—Saitama's blade pierced through his chest in a flash, ending him before he could react.

"Now!" Yan leapt from behind a tree, striking another enemy with a surprise kunai strike. It was clean and efficient—a sneak attack that took out a jōnin-level opponent.

Boom!

The female Mist-nin's eyes widened. Her squad's strongest fighter was already down. As Saitama turned his gaze toward her, she clenched her jaw, drew a kunai, and lunged at him in desperation.

"Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!" Yan shouted, spitting a great fireball toward one of the remaining enemies.

Zzztt!

Electric current sparked along Saitama's blade. His expression didn't waver. In a single motion, he vanished from his spot and reappeared in front of the female enemy, leaving only a scorch mark behind.

Wind blew his short bangs back. His Sharingan spun wildly, already activated, analyzing every movement, every chakra fluctuation—he wouldn't give her a chance to retaliate.

Crack!

Saitama slashed across her throat. Her kunai shattered on contact, and a thin line of blood traced across her neck.

Her eyes bulged. She clutched her throat, blood seeping through her fingers.

Thud!

She collapsed, the terror still frozen on her face.

"Run!" The last Mist ninja, fighting Huo, turned and fled in a panic. The speed and precision of Saitama's attacks had destroyed his will to fight.

"Where do you think you're going?" Yan growled, Sharingan spinning as he pursued.

The fleeing Mist-nin didn't dare look back. Huo slashed at him with a kunai, drawing blood, but it wasn't enough to stop him. Wounded and desperate, the enemy pushed himself even harder.

Thump!

A blade buried itself in the back of the Mist-nin's neck. He fell mid-step, lifeless.

"Fire Style—Flame Bullet!" Yan launched another jutsu at a straggler, engulfing the enemy in flames. Screaming in agony, the shinobi fell.

Slice!

Yan ended it with a swift cut to the neck, putting the ninja out of his misery.

Saitama watched him finish, then walked over to retrieve his blade from the enemy's corpse.

"Clean up. Seal the bodies into scrolls," he said, wiping his blade on the fallen shinobi's clothes. The corpse still twitched slightly—its nerves not yet dead.

"Yes." Yan glanced at his brother. Seeing that Saitama had taken down several ninja alone, he nodded with a mix of respect and frustration.

Huo scowled, dragged the corpses together, and unfurled a storage scroll. With practiced precision, he sealed each body.

"Anyone hurt?" Saitama asked.

"No," Yan replied, eyeing Saitama's calm, unscathed appearance with quiet awe.

"Good. Let's continue our patrol. I didn't expect Kirigakure shinobi to be this deep in."

Saitama rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"The defensive line is stretched thin. They're bound to exploit that," Yan said.

"Yeah. Let's stay alert."

---

Later…

"Swish!" The wind whistled past as Saitama's team moved forward. A glow peeked through the trees ahead—it was the edge of the forest.

"Hold." Saitama landed on a thick branch. His teammates dropped onto nearby perches, awaiting orders.

"Beyond this forest is the border. Enemy numbers will increase," Saitama said, voice low but clear.

"Our patrol area ends here—but I'm going to scout ahead a little longer." He adjusted the blade on his back. His heart pounded with anticipation.

"Is that wise?" Yan asked, eyes narrowing. Going beyond their assigned range meant higher risk—possibly an ambush.

"You can wait here. I'll return after a quick recon," Saitama said, confident. His body buzzed with energy, Lightning Chakra already primed. Unless they were facing a Kage-level enemy, he didn't plan on being stopped.

"…All right," Yan said after a pause. He held Huo back with a glance. "We'll wait here."

"Understood." Saitama jumped lightly from the tree, his landing near silent.

"Be careful," Yan called.

It wasn't recklessness that drove Saitama to move alone—but efficiency. He had a theory to test, and this was the perfect opportunity.

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