Inoiki tightened his grip on the Jonin team leader's neck, his voice low but seething with restrained fury. "Tell me," he demanded. "Why did you target us?"
The Jonin team leader sneered, his eyes defiant. "To rob you."
Inoiki's gaze sharpened, a cold glint flashing across his eyes. "You expect me to believe that?" he replied, his tone dripping with scepticism. "Maybe if you'd tried that excuse when my team and I were still escorting the caravan, I'd have considered it. But now? We carry nothing worth taking." He took a step closer, his voice a dangerous whisper. "You're hiding something."
The Jonin fell silent, his mouth clamping shut as he tried to avert his gaze, refusing to say anything more. But Inoiki's smirk grew, confident and unyielding. "It doesn't matter if you're silent. If you know who I am, then you must realize that I come from the Yamanaka Clan. You know what that means." He paused, allowing his words to sink in, then continued, "I'll pull the truth from your mind, whether you speak it or not."
Without another word, Inoiki closed his eyes briefly. Then, in a swift, fluid motion, he initiated the Psycho Mind Transmission technique, sending a surge of his chakra into the Jonin's mind.
Inoiki's team, who had been hiding on the sidelines, emerged cautiously, stepping out from their cover. They scanned the scene, taking in the devastation left by the battle. The opposing team lay scattered, defeated, ten shinobi led by a seasoned Jonin and two Chunin—all brought down by Inoiki alone. Their eyes widened in shock. They knew Inoiki was powerful, but this was beyond anything they'd expected.
Kotetsu muttered in awe, "I knew he was strong... but to take down a full team so quickly... and almost single-handedly?"
Izumo nodded, still in disbelief. "This is the real strength of Inoiki."
The team's eyes were fixed on Inoiki as he placed his right hand on the Jonin's forehead, his fingers pressing firmly against the skin. They knew instantly what he was doing—using a Yamanaka Clan jutsu to dive into the Jonin's mind and pull out the truth. They waited, watching as Inoiki's eyes narrowed in concentration.
But suddenly, Inoiki's expression shifted. His face twisted in shock, and he abruptly let go, his hand dropping to his side. The Jonin's body slumped to the ground, his eyes wide open, staring into nothingness. A heavy silence fell as the team realized what had happened.
Izumo broke the silence, his voice cautious. "Did... did he die?"
Inoiki's jaw clenched, and he nodded slowly. "The moment I tried to access his memories, a restriction activated. It killed him instantly."
Without a word, Inoiki knelt down, reaching for the Jonin's face. He opened the Jonin's mouth, suspicion simmering in his gaze. Sure enough, there on the man's tongue was a curse mark. Inoiki's lips tightened, and his eyes darkened with recognition.
In a swift, angry motion, Inoiki let the Jonin's head drop, and it hit the ground with a dull thud. His fists clenched, his barely-contained fury radiating through him. "Danzo," he muttered, his voice low and seething. "You piece of shit."
Inoiki's voice rang out in anger, his curse against Danzo echoing in the clearing. Danzo—leader of the infamous Root, the covert organization buried deep within the village's shadows. It was clear now: the Jonin team leader was one of Danzo's operatives, and this attack had been orchestrated by Root.
Izumo, Kotetsu, and Kosuke shared a glance, their faces taut with shock. They, too, recognized the curse mark on the tongue and understood its grim significance. Root's agents bore these seals to ensure absolute loyalty, and a deadly silence when necessary. Inoiki's voice, firm and unyielding, broke their thoughts.
"Check the bodies," he ordered. "All of them. I want to know if every last one of these ninjas was from Root."
The three nodded and immediately set to work, moving swiftly among the fallen bodies. One by one, they examined each tongue, checking for any trace of the cursed seal. But as they moved through the bodies, their tension began to ease. None of the other ninjas bore the telltale mark of Root.
Kosuke approached Inoiki, his tone cautious. "Perhaps... he could have been a missing-nin, acting alone?"
Inoiki shook his head, his gaze hard. "You know as well as I do that a missing-nin from Root is nearly impossible. Danzo's agents don't just leave. That curse mark was a way to keep them bound to Root—physically and mentally. Even if he had defected, he would have been hunted down. Therefore, it was unlikely he would take such a significant risk to expose himself to a Konoha ninja. He knew exactly what he was doing and acted with calculated purpose."
Kosuke hesitated, still searching for some explanation. "Maybe there was a misunderstanding... perhaps—"
Inoiki's voice cut through, calm but firm. "Mr. Kosuke, you've lived longer than I have, seen more of the world. But I've learned something essential with my experience: to remove darkness from our village, we have to first admit that it exists within our own walls."
The group fell silent, each feeling the weight of Inoiki's words. It was a stark truth that few were willing to acknowledge—that the threats they faced weren't always from the outside. Sometimes, the darkness festered within, hidden behind the village's walls.
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