Naruto: How to Be an Undercover Shinobi

Inside the cabin of a cargo ship... Fuguki Suikazan and four companions sat around a table. Spread across it was an open scroll detailing th

Inside the cabin of a cargo ship...

Fuguki Suikazan and four companions sat around a table.

Spread across it was an open scroll detailing their mission's target: a wealthy man named Popi.

He hailed from the Land of Tea and made his fortune in the tea trade. With a massive fortune and a constant entourage of bodyguards, he was well protected. Even without counting the shinobi, his personal guards numbered in the hundreds—and on top of that, he'd hired over ten ninja bodyguards through the bounty exchange.

For most shinobi, a mission like this would be a nightmare.

But for Kirigakure's elite assassins, this was well within their wheelhouse.

They had a team of five—Fuguki Suikazan, a young member of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist who had already inherited Samehada, and four experienced assassination specialists.

Just like Kirigakure, Amegakure had once been home to ninjas highly skilled in silent killing.

Unfortunately, Reiji had wiped them out in a single blow using Daytime Tiger.

While Fuguki Suikazan's team discussed mission details above...

Below their room, Reiji hung upside down from the ceiling, listening in with great interest.

It turned out their destination was Yugakure in the Land of Hot Water—a village Reiji was very familiar with.

You had to hand it to Yugakure—it was remarkably resilient.

A few years ago, he'd single-handedly caused a line to form on the rooftops of its tallest buildings with a single move at the iron table.

Then he evacuated most of the powerless, penniless residents.

And yet, in just a few short years, the village had managed to thrive once again.

Its unique geography clearly gave it an edge.

After confirming the Kirigakure team's objective, Reiji didn't linger. With a single hand seal, he vanished from the spot.

...

Inside the underground base of Yugakure, Reiji changed into a loose, comfortable robe with a belted waist and strolled leisurely into the streets.

It didn't take long before he found his target at Yugakure's largest casino: the Big Fat Sheep Casino.

There he was—Popi, the rich man from the Land of Tea.

One look was enough to shock him. Popi sat at a dice table, surrounded on all sides by bodyguards disguised as gamblers.

Damn. With a setup like that, not even a gun—let alone a kunai—could break through that wall of human shields.

On top of that, Reiji's sensory perception picked up at least a dozen scanning gazes constantly sweeping the area around Popi, maintaining a high level of alert.

He didn't linger his gaze on the man. Instead, he casually exchanged a few chips and sat at a random table nearby.

Reiji had no intention of interfering with Fuguki Suikazan's assassination.

If his hunch was right, then the legendary war-era powerhouse, Madara Uchiha, might be pulling strings behind Kirigakure.

And if Madara was lurking in the shadows, then Black Zetsu was likely hiding even deeper, watching everything unfold.

That meant Reiji's actions had to be perfectly logical, deliberate, and natural—beyond suspicion.

Sure, he could just find Nagato and forcefully seize the Rinnegan.

But doing that would cost him his greatest advantage.

If Madara was the shadow lying in wait after faking his death,

then Black Zetsu was the ever-watchful eye behind him,

and Reiji was the quiet smirk curled at the corner of that eye's mouth.

The true black hand—hidden like Garen in the bushes, a masterstroke waiting to strike.

But once exposed, that hand becomes just an ordinary one—clumsy, crude, and no longer capable of acting with foresight.

As he mulled it over, Reiji's moment arrived.

One of the five Jōnin closest to Popi got up and headed for the restroom.

At the same time, Reiji clutched his stomach, putting on an exaggerated grimace like a volcano about to erupt, and briskly followed toward the toilet.

They entered.

Moments later, Reiji and the bodyguard emerged from the restroom—one after the other.

The bodyguard returned to his original post.

Meanwhile, Reiji calmly cashed in his chips, politely brushed off the subtle invitation from the casino greeter, and slipped away into the crowd outside.

No one knew—the bodyguard had already been replaced by Reiji.

For the next two days, Reiji remained at the rich man's side, posing as his bodyguard. It wasn't until the deep hours of the third night that things changed.

Outside the wealthy man's bedroom, Reiji—just starting his night shift—and another bodyguard leaned casually against the doorway, exchanging half-hearted small talk.

Their conversation began to fade, yawns growing more frequent, when Reiji's half-closed eyes suddenly sharpened.

It had begun.

A faint, colorless, odorless sleep-inducing gas slowly began to spread through the air.

One by one, the guards stationed in the hallway collapsed to the floor with heavy thuds.

"Something's wro—"

The guard across from Reiji didn't even finish his sentence before his tongue went numb and his legs gave out. As he slumped to the ground, his eyes fluttered shut, filled with unwillingness.

In that instant, Reiji moved without hesitation. He caught the collapsing Jōnin, and with a sleight of hand, pulled out a syringe filled with a stimulant and drove it into the man's neck.

The effect was immediate—his body jolted, eyes snapping open in shock.

"Quiet."

Reiji clamped a hand over the man's mouth and spoke quickly in a low voice.

"Listen, there's no time. Play dead, and get ready to strike."

The hired Jōnin's eyes lit up. He nodded without hesitation.

Reiji released his grip, and the two of them crumpled to the ground, feigning unconsciousness.

Moments later, at the end of the corridor, two Kirigakure ninja dressed in black assassination gear emerged in silence. They stepped over the scattered bodies without a word and stopped at the door of the rich man's bedroom.

With a tap of their toes, they nudged Reiji and the other bodyguard aside to make space. The lead assassin gripped the doorknob and twisted it open.

The door creaked open—and in that split second, seven or eight razor-sharp kunai launched out from inside.

Turns out, the wealthy man hadn't just placed guards in the hallway—he'd hidden his strongest bodyguards inside the bedroom.

Combat erupted instantly.

But the assassins weren't rattled. It was clear they'd handled scenarios like this before—they moved with precision and confidence.

With a slight pivot of their bodies, they dodged the incoming kunai. Their hands were already forming seals.

"Hiding in Mist Technique."

The words came from beneath a mask, low and grim.

A thick fog burst from the assassin's mouth, flooding down the hallway and pouring into the bedroom.

Visibility dropped to near zero in an instant.

At the same time, the remaining three members of the assassination team emerged from the shadows.

They didn't know how many guards were hiding in the room—but in mist combat, no one rivaled Kirigakure's shinobi.