Naruto : Infinite Buff

The red smoke shot up, thick and suffocating, a grim herald to the storm that followed. The sky trembled, recoiling from the violent spectacle, the sky itself seeming to weep in anticipation. Rain fall in steady sheets, a heavy curtain that blurred the horizon, turning the forest into a dark, damp blur of shadows and sound. The signal—a flash of crimson—split the sky, its message simple yet undeniable: 

The test was over.

Joji stood unshaken, his gaze unwavering, not once glancing upward at the downpour. The rain soaked through his cloak, but he didn't flinch, his eyes cold and fixed on the silent forest ahead. It was a place he knew all too well, a twisted maze where death hid behind every root and branch, where every drop of rain only deepened the shadows. Behind him, the squads of Amegakure ninjas—four Chunin and two elite Jonin in each—stood still, their eyes sharp as they awaited the signal, their movements already calculated, as if the storm outside mirrored the storm within.

But Joji's mind wasn't on them. Not now.

The forest ahead—his domain—was a predator's paradise, a place where even the rain seemed to conspire with the earth to create a perfect trap. The trees, slick with water, loomed like sentinels, every rock, every gust of wind, a part of a larger, ever-waiting snare. It was their ground. Their home. Amatsu, the orphan caught in this storm, didn't stand a chance. A single misstep would be his last.

Beside Joji, a watchman shifted, uneasy, his boots sinking slightly into the mud as the rain pelted down harder. His fingers tightened on the hilt of his blade, instinctively bracing for something that hadn't yet arrived. "Joji-sama," he asked, voice uncertain under the roar of the rain, "Why are we cutting the test short? The orphans still need more time..."

Joji cut him off with a look that could freeze blood. His voice, as cold and unyielding as iron, sliced through the words. "The test is over. Hanzo-sama's orders." No room for negotiation. The air thickened with the weight of finality.

The watchman hesitated, his mind grappling with the dissonance between protocol and the chilling reality of the situation. "But... the orphans—"

"I don't care about their progress," Joji replied, his voice as sharp as a katana's edge. "This is not about their training. This is a mission. and..." He paused, letting the words settle like poison in the air. "theres a target. And we are ending this, now."

The watchman's mouth opened, confusion painted across his face, but the realization struck like a hammer. The mission. The hunt. The child was already marked. There was no escape.

He turned to his subordinates, giving the signal with a sharp motion of his hand. "Flare the red smoke."

As the flare shot up, blooming like a blood-red omen, Joji's gaze remained locked onto the forest. He didn't blink. He didn't move. His thoughts were already set in motion. Amatsu was already doomed.

Ryojin, standing at Joji's side, let out a low chuckle, his smirk widening. He stood relaxed, arms crossed, but his eyes darted, calculating, ready. "So you really think that orphan's gonna survive this? Think he's got the skills to outrun us?" His tone was light, but the malice in his words hung in the air.

Joji's expression remained unchanged, an unyielding mask of ice. "Not a chance," he replied. "This is our hunting ground. Every inch of it is mapped. Every shadow, every path, every trap—this forest is ours. He doesn't even know where to start." His voice was a cutting monotone. "He's a liability. A kid who's been here for a month. He's nothing."

Ryojin laughed darkly, the sound echoing in the tension-heavy air. "Yeah, but you think he'll even realize it's a hunt?"

Joji's lips curled ever so slightly, but the smile that played across his face was one devoid of warmth. "Exactly," he said, his voice a breath of frost. "We end the test early. He'll think he's won. He'll think he's free. But that's when we close in. The moment he lets his guard down, we'll have him."

Ryojin's grin widened, eyes burning with the thrill of it. "Oh, I love this! The trap's already set, and he's walking straight into it, clueless. Like a rabbit into a snare."

Joji didn't share in the excitement. His face was cold, calculating. "It's not about ease," he said, his voice low. "It's about control. We'll drive him into a corner. He won't be able to move, won't be able to think. He'll be forced to make a mistake."

Ryojin tilted his head, eyes flicking to the shadows of the trees, calculating every potential outcome. "And what if he's smarter than we think? What if he's figured it out already?"

Joji didn't move, didn't even shift his gaze. His expression remained a mask of implacable ice. "If he's smarter, he's already dead," he said flatly. "This forest is our territory. He's just a scared boy, a mouse in a maze. He doesn't know it, but the walls are closing in."

Ryojin snorted, his grin widening. "Oh, I can't wait to watch this is fun."

Joji's eyes flickered over to the hidden gates that dotted the forest, each one waiting for the signal to activate. "Remember," he said coldly, "If he tries anything, we have more than enough backup to finish him."

Behind them, the sound of the other teams shifting, readying for their roles in the hunt, filled the air. A dozen elite shinobi, trained in ambush and swift execution, were scattered across the forest. Their skills honed, their loyalty unyielding. Every one of them was a blade in the darkness, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

Ryojin's eyes glinted. "And if he's tougher than we think?"

Joji didn't answer immediately. His mind was already several steps ahead, calculating every possibility. He could see it all—the paths, the traps, the choke points. The tension in the air was like a coiled spring, ready to snap. Amatsu had no chance.

Ryojin laughed again, a low, sinister chuckle. "It'll be over before he even realizes what's happening."

Joji's lips twitched ever so slightly, a ghost of a smile. "That's the point."

A sudden shift in Joji's expression caught Ryojin's attention. His gaze hardened, narrowing in on a new target. "The bandaged one," Joji murmured. "He's been watching us too closely. Too carefully. What's he thinking?"

Ryojin raised an eyebrow, a smug smile never leaving his lips. "Maybe he's worried about the kid. Maybe he thinks we might not have it in the bag."

Joji scoffed, his lips curling in a sneer. "No. He's in our territory now. He has no reason to worry." His voice dropped lower, darker. "The survival chances of anyone outside our control are zero."

Ryojin smirked, nodding. "Zero. Makes it all the more fun."

Joji remained silent, his gaze locked onto the forest, calculating. His mind moved, sorting through every possible outcome. It was no longer a question of if. It was a question of how much longer Amatsu could last. Every path, every exit, every secret gate—they all led to the same thing. A death trap.

The forest was alive with traps, subtle and deadly. The trees were rigged with wire snares that would slice through skin the moment they were triggered. Hidden pits, lined with sharpened stakes, waited silently in the underbrush. Smoke bombs, sealed under leaves and rocks, would disorient and blind him. And worst of all—elite shinobi, hidden within the very fabric of the forest, trained to move silently, strike swiftly, and disappear without a trace.

Amatsu's every step would be watched, calculated, and anticipated. There would be no place for him to hide. No sanctuary.

Ryojin stretched lazily, cracking his knuckles. ""Can't wait to fight him. This is gonna be intense."

Joji's expression hardened. "He won't even get that far."

Amatsu's survival, already an impossibility, was now a cruel illusion. The only question that remained was whether he would break before the end.

The game was over.

And there was no escape.