The Intelligence Division tent on the Kiri front was filled with the smell of preserving chemicals and something that might have been lunch. Or decomposition. Naruki couldn't tell anymore after months of this assignment, and frankly, he'd stopped caring.
"Miki! Stop playing with the dead guy's face!" he called out while organizing his extraction tools. "We've got work to do!"
Miki looked up from where she was manipulating Raiga's jaw like a puppet. "But look. He's trying to tell us something." She made the corpse's mouth move while speaking in a high-pitched voice. "Please don't extract my memories. I have a family."
"That's horrible," Shinji said. "Do the one with the big sword next."
"Don't encourage her," Naruki groaned, though he was fighting back a grin. "And Shinji, stop licking those preservation crystals. They're not candy."
"They taste like mint though," Shinji protested, his tongue slightly blue from the chemicals. "Besides, I need to test their purity levels. For science."
Miki had moved on to Fuguki's corpse, making exaggerated chewing motions with his mouth. "Nom nom nom, I'm Samehada! I eat your chakra!"
She paused. "Actually, that's probably what he sounded like. This guy's teeth are filed to points. Who does that?"
"Kiri ninjas are weird," Naruki said matter-of-factly while setting up everything for the memory extraction. "Remember that guy last month who had gills surgically implanted? Still gives me nightmares."
"The gills were actually pretty efficient," Shinji noted, pulling out a magnifying glass to examine Kushimaru's needle sword wounds. "I've been thinking about getting some myself."
"You've been thinking about a lot of things since you started eating those crystals," Miki pointed out. "Yesterday you tried to extract memories from a sandwich."
"That sandwich had seen things," Shinji said defensively. "It spent three days in Kiri territory. Who knows what intelligence it absorbed?"
Naruki finally got the equipment working and rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Alright, freaks, time to get serious. These corpses won't interrogate themselves. Well, technically they will, but we need to help them along."
"Dibs on the skinny one," Miki called out, hopping over to Kushimaru's table. "I bet his memories are all weird."
"I want the explosive guy," Shinji announced, bouncing excitedly toward Jinpachi's corpse. "Maybe his brain chemistry will show me how to make better boom-booms."
"Stop calling them boom-booms," Naruki said with exasperation. "You're a professional interrogator, not a five-year-old."
"Fine. Boom-boom-explosions."
Miki had already placed her hands on Kushimaru's temples and was making contact with his residual chakra. "Ooooh, this one's mind is like a maze of needles... OH MY GOD HE'S SEWN PEOPLE TOGETHER LIKE DOLLS."
"What kind of dolls?" Shinji asked with morbid curiosity.
"The really creepy kind that you find in haunted houses where the eyes follow you around the room," Miki replied, her voice getting higher with excitement. "This guy was seriously messed up. He turned killing into an art form."
"Document it," Naruki instructed, though he was clearly fascinated. "Command will want to know how he achieved such precision with thread manipulation."
"Oh, this is good," Miki giggled inappropriately. "He practiced on corpses for years before moving to live targets. There's this whole memory of him in a morgue just... sewing dead people into furniture."
"Furniture?" Shinji paused his own examination. "Like chairs?"
"More like... artistic installations. Dead body art. I think I'm going to be sick."
"Don't throw up on the specimens," Naruki warned. "We've already lost two extraction setups this week because someone couldn't keep their lunch down."
"That was one time!" Shinji protested. "And that Kiri ninja's memories were really gross! He had this thing for eating raw fish while it was still alive and watching it—"
"ANYWAY," Naruki interrupted loudly, "let's focus on useful intelligence. Miki, any strategic information in needle-boy's head?"
"Give me a minute," Miki said, her chakra glowing brighter. "I'm sorting through the murder-art memories to find the boring military stuff... okay, here we go. He knew about three hidden supply caches along the coastline."
The memory projection crystals lit up, showing ghostly images of underwater caves filled with weapons and supplies.
"Jackpot," Naruki said with satisfaction. "Mark those locations. Shinji, how's explody-pants over there?"
Shinji placed his hands on the corpse's head and immediately jerked back. "WHOA. Okay, that's intense. His last thought was literally just the word 'Fuck' repeated about fifty times."
"What about before the fuck-thoughts?"
"Let me try a different approach," Shinji said, adjusting his chakra frequency. "Instead of going for conscious memories, I'll tap into muscle memory... okay, this is weird. This guy's entire body has been conditioned to survive explosions."
"I mean he's been blowing himself up on purpose for training. Look at these scars, they're from controlled detonations. He was basically a walking bomb who kept setting himself off to build up resistance."
"That's the stupidest training method I've ever heard," Naruki said. "Did it work?"
"Apparently. His bone density is off the charts. His skin is like leather... Damn."
Miki had moved on to Fuguki and was having the time of her life. "This one's fascinating! His memories aren't just his own, Samehada has been sharing experiences with him. It's like having a really bitey roommate in your head."
"The sword has its own consciousness, and it's been feeding him information from other people it's... eaten? Absorbed? Had intimate chakra relationships with?" Miki paused thoughtfully. "Actually, I think this sword might be a pervert."
"It really, really likes tasting people's chakra. Like, uncomfortably much. And some of these memories are definitely not appropriate for workplace discussion."
Naruki sighed. "Just extract the military intelligence and try not to think about the sword's personal life."
"Too late. I'm already traumatized," Miki announced cheerfully.
Naruki announced. "The hammer and axe guy. Miki, try not to traumatize yourself this time."
"No promises," Miki said, placing her hands on Jinin's head. "Let's see what kind of crazy we're dealing with... oh. Oh wow."
"This guy collected people's skulls. Like, as a hobby. He had an entire room just filled with skulls arranged by size and... artistic merit?"
"Apparently some people have more aesthetically pleasing cranial structures than others. He rated them on a scale of one to ten." Miki paused. "He gave himself an eight."
"What did he give his teammates?"
"Raiga got a six. Kushimaru got a four because his head is too pointy. Fuguki got a two because..." Miki paused. "Oh, that's just rude."
"Focus on the military intelligence," Naruki reminded her, though he was clearly enjoying the weird revelations.
"Fine, fine. Okay, Jinin knew about Kiri's backup plans if the Seven Swordsmen failed. They have three contingency operations ready to go, including... oh, that's nasty."
"They were planning to poison the water supply in three coastal towns in the Land of Fire. Mass civilian casualties to force Konoha to negotiate."
"Now that's actually useful intelligence," Naruki said, his mood turning serious for a moment. "Mark that as priority one. The Hokage needs to know immediately."
"Already on it," Miki said, then brightened up again. "Oh, and Jinin also had detailed plans of Kiri's underwater prison facility. Apparently they've been experimenting on captured ninja from multiple villages."
"The usual mad scientist stuff. Trying to graft gills onto people, testing how long someone can hold their breath underwater, that kind of thing. Standard Kiri weirdness."
"Document everything," Naruki instructed. "This is turning into one of our most productive extractions ever."
As the three continued their work, the tent filled with increasingly ridiculous theories about the Swordsmen's combat techniques, personal lives, and questionable life choices. By the time they finished extracting every useful piece of intelligence, they had compiled enough strategic information to significantly impact the war effort.
After everything was done, they prepared to send the corpses back to Konoha. Miki gave each corpse a little pat on the head. "Thanks for the memories, guys. You were terrible people, but great intelligence sources."
"They probably would have appreciated that," Shinji commented.
"Definitely," Naruki agreed. "Now let's get this intelligence to Command before someone else decides to experiment on themselves with dead body parts."
"You're no fun," Miki pouted, but began helping pack up their equipment.
Just as they were finishing up, she suddenly straightened. "Someone's coming. Two people, about fifty meters out."
By the time the tent flap opened, all three had transformed completely. Miki was standing at attention with perfect posture, Shinji had put away his magnifying glass and adopted a serious expression, and Naruki was reviewing his notes with the focused intensity of a researcher.
"Extraction Team Epsilon reporting for additional specimen delivery," announced Isamu, a younger clan member who served as a field courier. He was accompanied by another Yamanaka, Kenta, who was carrying a sealed body bag.
"Acknowledged, Courier Team Beta," Naruki replied. "Please provide preliminary assessment of specimen condition and estimated time of biological termination."
"Uh, subject expired approximately forty-seven minutes ago from multiple lacerations and chakra exhaustion," Isamu reported, clearly trying to match their formal tone. "Preliminary identification suggests mid-level Kiri operative, possibly infiltration specialist based on equipment loadout."
"Excellent," Miki said. "We shall conduct immediate neural pathway analysis and commence memory extraction protocols within the optimal cellular degradation window."
"The neurological preservation parameters remain within acceptable thresholds for standard extraction procedures," Shinji added, consulting an official-looking clipboard. "We anticipate successful intelligence acquisition with minimal data corruption."
Kenta set down the body bag and looked around the tent. "Your equipment setup is incredibly sophisticated. The chakra-focusing fuinjutsu must have taken hours to calibrate properly."
"Precision is paramount in our field," Naruki replied gravely. "Each extraction requires meticulous attention to technical specifications and procedural accuracy. We cannot afford even marginal errors when dealing with time-sensitive intelligence acquisition."
"The psychological impact assessment protocols alone require extensive documentation," Miki added. "We must maintain comprehensive analytical frameworks to ensure maximum intelligence yield from each specimen."
Isamu nodded enthusiastically. "The reports from your extractions have been invaluable to field operations. Your technical expertise is legendary throughout the Intelligence Division."
"We merely perform our duties with appropriate professional diligence," Shinji said modestly. "The complexity of neural pathway mapping demands nothing less than absolute dedication to methodological excellence."
"We'll leave you to your work then," Kenta said respectfully. "Thank you for your service."
After the two couriers left, the extraction team maintained their professional poses for exactly ten seconds before collapsing back into their normal chaos.
"Oh god, my face hurts from not smiling," Miki gasped, immediately returning to puppet-playing with Raiga's corpse.
"I thought I was going to crack when he complimented our 'sophisticated equipment,'" Shinji snorted, pulling out his preservation crystals to resume licking them.
"'Psychological impact assessment protocols,'" Naruki mimicked his own formal tone. "Where do I even come up with this stuff?"
Outside the tent, Isamu was walking back toward the main camp with stars in his eyes.
"Did you hear how they talk?" he said with genuine awe. "The technical precision, the professional vocabulary... They're like the elites of the shinobi world."
"Mmm," Kenta replied noncommittally.
"I mean, the way they discuss 'neural pathway analysis' and 'cellular degradation windows,' it's pure intellectual poetry. They've turned intelligence extraction into a true scientific art form."
"Sure," Kenta said, sounding less enthusiastic.
"I'm thinking of requesting a transfer to the Extraction Unit," Isamu continued excitedly. "Imagine working alongside minds that brilliant! The depth of knowledge, the dedication to their craft, the way they maintain such professional composure even in a battlefield setting..."
Kenta stopped walking and grabbed his friend's shoulder. "Isamu, no."
"Trust me on this," Kenta said with obvious discomfort. "You don't want to join the Extraction Unit."
"But they're so professional! So focused on their work!"
"That's exactly the problem," Kenta muttered. "Look, you're my friend, right? And I like being able to talk to you normally."
"If you join them, you'll start talking like that all the time," Kenta said with a slight grimace. "All those big words and complicated explanations. You'll become one of those guys who makes everyone else feel stupid just by opening their mouth. Trust me, you don't want to become the kind of person who can't have a normal conversation without throwing around words like 'methodological excellence' and 'procedural accuracy.'"
"I... I guess that could be annoying," Isamu said slowly.
"It is. Plus, you'll get all serious and intense about everything. No more jokes, no more casual conversations. Just work, work, work and making everyone around you feel like idiots."
"That doesn't sound fun," Isamu admitted.
"It's not. So just... stay normal, okay? I like having a friend I can actually talk to without needing a dictionary."
As they walked away, Isamu cast one last admiring glance back at the extraction tent.
"I still think they're amazing though. So dedicated and professional."
"Yeah, well, some people are just built different," Kenta said with relief. "Come on, let's grab some food. I heard they're serving actual meat tonight instead of those mystery rations."