Seijuro went to the middle of the city. There, he placed a seal on the floor before dashing off.

The seal was simple—it was a timer seal. In exactly 30 minutes or so, it would summon both the Six-Tails and Three-Tails, and let them rampage through the city.

Oh well.

Returning back to his squad, he used Shunshin inside the room—more precisely, the bathroom—where his shadow clone was brushing his teeth. He aligned himself perfectly with the shadow clone, removing his ANBU gear and sealing it all away.

He finished brushing his teeth, then stepped out of the bathroom, stretching a bit.

A kettle whistled softly.

Seijuro emerged from the bathroom yawning, just enough to sell the illusion of an overworked tradesman. He dusted off his robes and scratched the back of his neck.

Around him, the room buzzed with a lazy kind of calm. Choza was halfway through a rice bowl. Shikaku sipped lukewarm tea. Inoichi flipped lazily through a brochure about Kiri's hot springs. Hikaru Hyūga looked out the window, and Shiran Aburame sat cleaning a lacquered wooden box of beetle trinkets.

All casual.

All civilian.

But the words that passed between them were anything but ordinary.

🔐 Cipher: Seijuro – Every 3rd Word

Seijuro sat down, grumbling as he poured himself tea.

"Think I'll nap early. That vendor said sunset brings quieter streets. Seems nice, yeah?"

Hidden message: "Nap sunset streets"

→ Leave by sundown.

🔐 Cipher: Shikaku – Every 3rd and 5th Word

Shikaku didn't look up from his shogi board.

"Evening winds help balance when you're moving crates outside. Never liked carrying alone, y'know?"

Hidden message: "Winds balance moving. Liked alone."

→ Wind patterns good. Move alone. Distraction works.

🔐 Cipher: Inoichi – Every 3rd, 5th, and 7th Word

Inoichi scratched behind his ear, grinning lazily.

"Maybe tomorrow, we visit that fountain square, catch some fish, stretch legs, or sketch by the docks?"

Hidden message: "Visit fountain, fish, stretch, sketch."

→ Observation near fountain confirmed. Stretch = delay. Sketch = illusion phase ready.

🔐 Cipher: Hikaru Hyūga – Every 3rd and 7th Word

The Hyūga adjusted the curtain slightly.

"Mist rolls deep tonight. If clouds hold longer, I might skip that stroll to the outer market."

Hidden message: "Deep clouds stroll."

→ Enemy patrol closing in from high ground.

🔐 Cipher: Shiran Aburame – Every 1st, 3rd, 5th, 7th, 9th Word

Aburame spoke quietly, as if explaining an exotic insect's behavior.

"Markets like these buzz gently when trades shift hands slowly—perfect timing matters."

Hidden message: "Markets buzz trades hands timing."

→ Enemy still tracing clone. They're holding ground. Best to move soon.

Final Message Summary:

Seijuro: Depart at sundown.

Shikaku: Wind provides cover. Move in small groups.

Inoichi: Illusion plan ready. Focal point at the fountain.

Hyūga: Mist is masking them, but patrols are tightening.

Aburame: Clone is still buying time, but window is narrow.

Seijuro sipped his drink. Also, most of the team were given prime numbers for cipher keys. Some weren't—but that was for another reason entirely.

Shikaku should've figured it out by now.

If Danzō thought he could mess with him and be fine, then he was heavily mistaken.

And thus, 30 minutes passed with them playing shogi and relaxing, not even bothering to speak in codes anymore—just acting like normal merchants.

Then... around the 30-minute mark—

The air felt heavy. It was getting harder and harder to breathe.

It felt like a demon in the flesh had been summoned. The chakra in the air felt incredibly dense.

Meanwhile...

The sky was dim and wet, stained with ash and salt from distant fires. Mist hung low like a noose tightening around the throat of the village.

A lone Konoha shinobi stood panting, cornered in an alley between collapsing walls. Blood ran from his nose and mouth, soaking into his collar.

Sixty Kiri-nin formed a semicircle around him—ANBU, Hunter-nin, elite Jōnin. Their weapons were drawn. Chakra flared.

"It's over," one of the Kiri captains spat, stepping forward. "You lost."

The clone didn't respond.

He simply stood there.

Pale.

Emotionless.

Still.

As if he hadn't heard them—or didn't care.

He raised one trembling hand and bit into it. Blood spilled down his wrist. Then, with a mechanical motion—slow, deliberate—he slammed his palm to the dirt.

"Summoning Jutsu."

POOOOOF!

The earth cracked. The air twisted.

The Kiri-nin tensed.

"Is he—?"

"A summon?! What the hell—?!"

A monstrous shriek erupted from the far side of the village.

A howl of primal fury.

GYYYYYYYYAAAAAAGHHHRHRHRRRRRGH!!!

From within the inner district—BOOM!—a second eruption tore through the heart of the Hidden Mist.

From the academy sector.

The streets turned to liquid as acid rain poured from the sky.

The Six-Tails, slug-like, ghostly pale, dragged itself through the wreckage—leaving molten craters in its wake. And beside it, a glowing red eye blinked open from a massive coral-plated shell.

The Three-Tails roared.

From opposite ends of the village, two Bijū readied their attacks.

One red.

One seafoam green.

Perfectly synchronized.

"They're going to—!"

"MOVE—!"

KRAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—BOOOOOOOOOM!!!

Two Bijūdama detonated across the Hidden Mist.

A sea of vaporized buildings. Craters the size of lakes. Blood-boiling mist.

All of it fell silent... for a second.

Back in the alley, the clone didn't even glance at the destruction.

He turned his head ever so slightly toward the Kiri-nin.

His mouth opened—blood and bile dripping from the corners.

No smile.

No fear.

Just... emptiness.

And one word:

"Die."

He lunged, seizing the nearest Kiri shinobi by the vest with both hands.

"What the—?!"

FLASH—BOOM!!!

Thirty explosive tags—each one hand-modified and chakra-enhanced by Kushina Uzumaki herself—detonated simultaneously.

The world turned white.

A massive inferno split the alley. The shockwave ruptured half the Kiri formation.

When the smoke cleared, twenty elite Jōnin were gone—vaporized or reduced to ash.

Fuguki Suikazan, shielded by Samehada's absorption and sheer instinct, barely survived the edge of the blast.

And just before the explosion... he'd seen it.

The clone's mouth had opened. Blood ran freely.

And there... on the underside of his tongue...

A black seal. A Root seal.

Fuguki narrowed his eyes.

"Root...? Those bastards..."

But the Mist was too deep in fire and chaos to chase that shadow now.

The Konoha shinobi was dead.

The Bijū were on a rampage.

The Hidden Mist... was crumbling.

POV Shift – Civilian District, Hotel Safehouse

Inoichi—Whisper—came tumbling out of a tea shop, screaming like a man with worms in his intestines.

"THEY'RE GONNA KILL US! I KNEW THIS DAMN VILLAGE WAS CURSED!"

He grabbed Choza—Ox—by the shirt and shook him.

"WE SHOULD'VE TRADED WITH IWA!! THEY ONLY DROP ROCKS! NOT DEMONS!!"

Choza didn't respond.

Because Choza was too busy pretending to piss himself.

"We need to leave... now!" he shouted.

For the remaining Kiri-nin watching this scene, this was just confirming what they already knew.

Those guys were just merchants.

Which meant...

"Akaishi?" Seijuro asked lowly.

Hikaru appeared from the alley, guiding a trembling old woman on his shoulder—Byakugan active behind his blindfold.

"All sensors are scrambled. Village grid's collapsed. Mizukage Tower is down. They're blind."

Though he didn't say that out loud—more like used Konoha Morse Code for it.

As to how he delivered the code? You see, even though he was guiding an old lady with a cane, he was controlling when her cane hit the floor.

Every small tap was "." but every big tap was "–" and the silence between taps was the space.

Behind them, another Bijū Bomb detonated, and a street collapsed into molten, acidic stone. The Six-Tails had vomited half a district into ruin.

Civilians screamed. Shinobi sprinted everywhere. ANBU squads were shouting conflicting orders.

And Seijuro's group?

Tucked inside the chaos.

No chakra signatures.

No headbands.

Just five terrified "merchants," doing their best not to vomit from how close they were to cataclysmic chakra monsters.

They fled as civilians—screaming, stumbling, barely able to walk from "fear." It made for the perfect cover.

After all...

Who would suspect the terrified merchants were the cause of all this?

I mean it not like they had killed roughly 60 high ranking nobles during the chaos, nah, they would never.

A/N...wow, executing a mission hile putting any and all future blame sorely on Danzo shoulders, how fun.