Throne Of The Uchiha

Intelligence Operation – Rain Country

The Hyuga clan's Jūken (Gentle Fist) style was unpredictable in close combat. Its power did not rely on brute force, but on internal disruption—striking the chakra network directly. A target could be incapacitated before realizing they had been hit.

The Suna (Sand) Jonin engaged in combat with Hyuga Ning had underestimated the style's precision. In a flash of movement, Ning's fingertips struck a flurry of tenketsu (chakra points), severing the Jonin's chakra flow and collapsing him.

Of the remaining two Sand Chunin, one was swiftly pierced through the heart by Satomaru's kunai, while the other had his throat silently slit by Yamada Shinji.

"Take the bodies," Uchiha Fugaku ordered coolly. "Nozawa leads. Hyuga Ning covers our rear. We move—now."

Hyuga Ning knocked out the disabled Jonin with a clean strike to the neck. The others lifted the corpses. Rain poured relentlessly, washing away the blood in minutes—a signature trait of Amegakure no Sato (Hidden Rain). In this land, tracking techniques based on residual clues were severely hampered.

Even clans like the Inuzuka, who relied on scent, and Hatake Kakashi's ninja dogs, would struggle here. Scent washed away. Prints were distorted in muddy terrain. Rain Country was a haven for covert warfare.

Nozawa, perceptive and familiar with terrain movement, quickly located a secluded mountain cave. With nations at war, it was unlikely anyone would stumble upon them before nightfall.

"Remember these four Chunin's faces," Fugaku said, handing over a scroll with basic sketches. "Tomorrow night, we infiltrate the Suna base. Show even a flicker of hesitation, and we die."

"Captain," Satomaru spoke up, brows furrowed, "Six infiltrators is too risky. If exposed, we won't stand a chance."

"We'll discuss numbers later," Fugaku replied. "First—interrogation. Shinji, Qiuze Dayo—you're both skilled in Doton (Earth Release). Bury the bodies in the deepest part of the cave. Ensure there are no signs left behind."

"Hinata Ning, guard one prisoner. Nozawa, you're with me—we start with the Jonin."

"Understood."

Nozawa slung the unconscious Suna Jonin over his shoulder. In the depths of the cave, Fugaku activated his Sharingan. Three tomoe rotated slowly, pupils honing in on the captive's slow, steady breathing. Unconscious—but genuine. The Sharingan could detect subtle muscle twitching and chakra fluctuations. If this ninja was faking, Fugaku would know.

"Open his eyes."

Nozawa pried open the Jonin's eyelids. Fugaku's tomoe began to spin rapidly—Sharingan: Genjutsu activated.

The Suna Jonin's pupils dilated, the light in his gaze dimmed—caught in the illusion.

"Name."

"Black Sand."

"Describe your supply procedures."

"Supplies are distributed by the logistics unit at base center. One Jonin and two Chunin man the department. Each squad receives supply credentials—needed to withdraw rations or gear from the warehouse."

"Warehouse security?"

"One Jonin. Two Chunin."

Fugaku nodded mentally. Of the sixteen stationed shinobi, six guarded the three exits, six manned logistics and storage, and four (two Jonin, two Chunin) were flexible.

"List all sixteen personnel—names, appearances, jutsu specialties. Include your squad's data. Then draw a structural map of the base."

The Sharingan bore down mercilessly, feeding pupil power into the Jonin's optic nerves. Fugaku knew well: higher-ranking ninja were trained in genjutsu resistance. The deeper the secrets, the stronger the subconscious pushback.

If the illusion cracked, the Jonin might bite off his tongue—a suicide trigger built into Suna's black ops conditioning.

For thirty long minutes, Fugaku maintained the genjutsu, sweat soaking his collar. When the final ink stroke marked the paper, he collapsed backward slightly, breathing heavily.

Nozawa struck the captive in the neck again, knocking him out. Together, they dragged the Jonin back to the resting chamber.

"Captain," said Qiuze Dayo as they entered, "The bodies are buried. I placed a concealment fūinjutsu around the site. No detection unless someone searches with high-level chakra sensing."

"Well done."

Fugaku passed the scroll to Hyuga Ning. "This is our intel. Memorize it. We interrogate the second Jonin next."

"Shall we execute the first?" asked Shinji.

"Not yet. We verify first—then clean up."

They repeated the process with the second Jonin. The information matched.

Fugaku turned to Nozawa. "Before tomorrow night's op, send your kikaichū into the base. Confirm if the map is accurate."

Everyone's expressions darkened at what lay ahead.

"I'll lead Hyuga Ning and four Chunin inside. Two remain outside for support," Fugaku said firmly.

Satomaru stepped forward, concern on his face.

Fugaku silenced him with a raised hand. "You think two fewer people makes us safer. It doesn't. Fewer shinobi means fewer variables. Stealth comes first."

He turned to two figures.

"Shinji. Nozawa. You'll wait outside until dawn. If we haven't returned, report the mission's failure."

Shinji's jaw tightened. "Captain, the Yamada do not fear death."

Nozawa's insects stirred under his coat, sensing his agitation.

"I understand," Fugaku said gently. "But this is necessary. Shinji, you and Dayo are our Doton experts. You may need to create an escape path. Nozawa's insects are essential for recon, but not in direct combat. In a base full of chakra sensors and traps, bugs won't be enough."

He handed out copies of the roster.

"Memorize all 22 names and descriptions. No mistakes tomorrow."

"Yes, Captain."

Finally, Fugaku turned to the unconscious Jonin he had first incapacitated.

Kurosaga. Sand Jonin. Subordinates: Odamaru, Akasaki (Red Sand). Specialization: Wind Release. Noted for his cautious and generous personality.

Fugaku sat in the corner, eyes narrowing, voice low.

He began mirroring Kurosaga's mannerisms, rehearsing his tone and speech patterns.

A ninja's disguise wasn't just a transformation technique—it was full performance.