. . .
"Hey, where you headed after this?"
The group strolled down the street, their steps relaxed. Their posture were laid back depicting their appearance as off-duty Shinobi.
"I'm heading home. My family's doing a dinner thing, some get-together."
"No way, seriously? I thought we were hitting that new place tonight!"
The whole group flinched, their casual vibe snapping as they all turned to glare at the Chūnin who had just blurted that out.
"Shhh! Keep it down, idiot! Someone could be listening!"
. . .
Several paces behind them, Lumian moved like a thief, close enough to keep them in sight, but far enough to stay out of notice.
Lumian crouched behind a trash can as he observed the group. His usual black hair was dyed a bright blond, and faint whisker marks were on his cheeks.
Sorry, Naruto...
The disguise was a decision that Lumian was glad he made. He couldn't afford to let anyone trace him back to his real identity as an academy student. He wasn't about to risk the boy's entire bloodline going after him if he ever got caught.
He wasn't the protagonist of some Cultivation story. The last thing he ever wanted to hear in his life was some wierd grandpa glaring at him while shouting:
"You dare? Courting death?!"
He shuddered at the mental image and slid into place behind a passing carriage, crouching low to stay out of sight.
Just then, the tall one, Brad, stopped mid-step and glanced over his shoulder.
"Crap…"
Lumian didn't hesitate. He scanned his surroundings and darted toward the nearest vendor, yanking out his coin pouch.
"Hey! How much for… uh… whatever you're selling?"
The vendor gave him a strange look. "Huh. Kids really eating healthy these days, huh? Good for you."
Lumian blinked. Only then did he register what was on the stall.
Greens. Just... piles of greens.
Suppressing a twitch, he forced a polite smile. "I'll take seven."
The vendor nodded and began bagging them up. Lumian risked a glance behind him and breathed a quiet sigh of relief: Brad had turned his attention back to the group and kept walking.
"Thanks," Lumian muttered, tying the bag around his wrist and slipping back into the crowd, eyes locked on his targets once more.
. . .
(45 minutes later…)
Lumian crouched behind the wall of a rundown building, eyes locked on the group as they finally stopped moving. They'd settled in a half-collapsed alleyway on the outskirts of Konoha.
"Phew..."
He leaned back, letting out a long breath. His legs ached, his back was tight, and his brain was fried from staying alert for nearly an hour.
"Man, they are way too paranoid," he muttered. "I almost got caught, like, three times… Good thing the Marauder gave me better control over my body."
He glanced around, scanning for any signs of movement. Coast was clear.
"Alright... now I just need a good angle on these guys."
Cracking his knuckles, he got on his knees, then launched himself upward. In a blur, he scaled the side of a nearby building, using old balconies and rusty pipes as makeshift footholds. It barely looked like he was trying, like gravity was just a mild suggestion.
With a final spring, he flipped onto the rooftop and landed without so much as a thud.
He stood up, grinning at his own limbs like a proud kid.
"Okay, yeah… I'm definitely stronger than when I first took the potion. I feel like I could one-punch Obito right now."
Then he froze.
Nope. Don't get cocky.
He smacked his cheeks lightly. "Focus, Lumian. Stick to the mission."
Sighing he rubbed his elbows and knees, wincing a little.
"Parkour's fun and all, but damn.... I still can't run up walls with chakra yet…"
No time to mope about it.
Creeping to the edge of the roof, he peeked over. Perfect... He had a clean view of the group below.
Time to get some intel.
He tapped his glabella twice. Spirit Vision kicked in immediately, bathing the world in subtle hues of emotion and intent.
He squinted at the group.
"…Huh. All of them are glowing with shades of…
He paused
....cockiness."
He frowned. "Great. Spirit vision was useful while it lasted...."
Spirit Vision fizzled out with another tap. He rubbed his forehead, annoyed.
"No weaknesses, huh? Figures."
. . .
Lumian grinned as he reached into his pouch.
"Alright… guess we're doing this the old-fashioned way."
He pulled out a single coin, flipping it through his fingers to get a feel for the weight, the texture, and the metal.
Then he sat down, legs crossed comfortably like he was about to meditate, if meditation involved chaotic plans and a questionable amount of improvisation....
"Let's see… how many plans do I actually have?"
He paused, mentally flipping through the insanity he'd cooked up earlier. After a moment, he nodded to himself.
Staring at the coin, he took a slow, steady breath.
"C'mon… divination, don't fail me now."
He placed the coin on his thumb, steeled himself, and flicked it into the air.
"Plan Orange Cat will succeed."
CHING.
He caught it smoothly, and covered it with his hand.
"Cmon... cmon.... Heads...."
He peeked under his hand and made a dejected look.
"…Tails."
He sighed. "Okay. No ninja cats today."
He reset.
"Plan Mysterious Merchant will succeed."
CHING.
Tails.
"Plan Kamikaze Flyer will succeed."
CHING.
Tails.
"Plan Blind Beggar will succeed."
CHING.
Tails.
"Plan Explosive Diarrhea will succeed."
CHING.
Tails.
"Plan Oh No, He Needs Help! will succeed."
CHING.
Tails.
"Plan Grug the Caveman will succeed."
CHING.
Tails.
. . .
After tossing the coin what felt like a dozen more times, Lumian just sat there, legs crossed, staring at the little piece of metal like it had betrayed his entire bloodline.
"Are you kidding me right now?"
He groaned, dropping his head to his knees.
"Are these guys really that good… or am I just cursed?"
Laughter suddenly echoed up from the alley below—loud, carefree, and just cocky enough to be annoying.
Lumian flinched.
"Crap… I'm running out of time. If I don't do something soon, they're gonna pack up and leave."
He sat upright and tapped his forehead, trying to kick his brain into gear.
"Think, Lumian. Think. You're smart to think of some mischievous plan..."
He closed his eyes for a second and muttered under his breath.
"Come on… channel your internal thoughts that appear when you shower.... Channel your inner Madara.. Your inner Aizen... Your inner Amo-
And then, like a lightbulb turning on, an idea hit him.
"…Amon."
A grin slowly spread across his face, creeping in like a shadow.
"What did that bastard do to traumatize his vicitims again?"
. . .
He held up the coin again, staring at it like it held all the answers.
"Alright. One more try."
He flicked it into the air with a little extra flair.
"Plan Blasphemous Bastard will succeed."
CHING.
He reached to catch it, but the coin suddenly veered, like the wind had shifted, and clinked to the ground.
"…What?"
He looked down and blinked.
The coin had landed on its edge. Not heads. Not tails. Just… standing there.
Lumian squinted. "Wait… is that even possible?"
He crouched down and picked it up, turning it over in his hand in confusion.
"…So what does this mean? A fifty-fifty chance?"
He stared at it for a few more seconds, then quietly slipped it back into his pouch.
"...."
He stood up, walked to the edge of the rooftop, and looked down at the gang of shinobi still hanging out like nothing was wrong.
His grin returned.
"I like those odds."
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(Author's note:
Good news Guys! I didn't fall asleep today!
Luckily, this chapter was bit easy to write as I was feeling a bit devious today... hehehe
Anyways, you guys can have the freedom of leaving a comment and review! Its free!
Thanks for reading....
and....
POWER STONES!!!!)