Naruto : Infinite Buff

Joji, Ryojin, and their team stood silently before the group of survivors, their gazes sweeping over the ragged, battle-worn children. one hundreds had started the trial, but now only thirty-seven remained.

Joji's cold gaze was calculating as it passed over each one. The survivors weren't just exhausted—they were cracked, their souls frayed and their bodies hollow. Only the strongest, the most cunning, had made it this far. But even they were barely holding it together, their stamina stretched to its limits, their minds shattered by the brutality of the test.

The survivors stood in front of Joji and Ryojin, broken shadows of what they once were. one-hundred had entered the trial. Thirty-seven remained.

Ryojin stood beside him, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded. His smirk never left his face, but there was a flicker of amusement in his gaze as he looked at the broken survivors. His words were slow, languid, as if he didn't care whether they lived or died.

A new group emerged from the forest. The ones Joji had expected. These were the survivors of another batch of elite orphans. Thirty had started out. Only ten were left.

They walked in formation, their steps sluggish, dragging with exhaustion. Their faces carried the weight of a thousand struggles. The kind of fatigue that only those who had barely scraped through the impossible would know. They were the ones who had endured, their bodies weary, their spirits worn, but still, they moved forward—unbroken.

"from onehundred. Thirty-seven. And only few of them are worth anything," he muttered, eyes gliding over the ragged group. "Pathetic."

Joji didn't answer. He didn't need to. His silence spoke volumes, more than Ryojin's careless comments ever could.

The survivors—those lucky enough to make it through—were barely holding it together. Their bodies were battered, their minds shattered. The weak ones were easy to spot; their eyes were dull, their movements stiff. But the elites... they were different. Even they were fading, clinging to whatever strength they had left, but there was still fire in their eyes. They had earned their place. For now.

Joji's eyes lingered on them, and his thoughts turned cold. They had made it through, but not without cost.

Ryojin's smirk faltered for just a second, his eyes narrowing as he watched one of the survivors flinch at a sound. He knew—he saw it too. The test had broken them, but it hadn't killed them. Yet.

"They've survived, but they're already hollow inside" Ryojin muttered, almost to himself, his voice flat. His eyes flicked over the survivors with a bored look. "Doesn't really matter how many of them made it, right? They're all just meat for the grinder."

Joji didn't react. His eyes stayed locked on the group, his mind moving like a well-oiled machine. His posture was rigid, cold, almost too still. He was always thinking, always planning.

"No, they are just useless tools for hanzo-sama" Joji replied, his voice low, but there was something sharp in it, like a blade just beneath the surface.

Ryojin snorted, smirking, clearly amused. "Heh. So we just use 'em like tools, huh?"

Joji nodded, but his gaze stayed locked on the survivors. He wasn't bothered by the idea. He saw them for what they were—a resource, a means to an end. His mind didn't dwell on sentiment.

"They'll be useful. For a while." Joji's voice was quiet but carried a sense of finality, like he had already calculated their lifespan. 

Ryojin shrugged, rolling his eyes like it didn't matter to him either way. "Eh, whatever. Let's just get it over with."

Joji's eyes locked onto the four Jonin, his expression cold, unyielding. He reached into his pouch and pulled out the crumpled image of Amatsu—dark eyes, long black hair, a face that had eluded them for too long. He tossed it in front of them, the photo fluttering to the dirt at their feet.

"Find him," Joji said, his voice calm but firm, the weight of the order in every syllable. "You know what he looks like. No face goes unchecked."

The Jonin didn't waste a moment, bending down to take the photo, their eyes locking onto it with quiet understanding.

"Understood," one Jonin muttered, his voice steady as he straightened up. "We'll cover every angle."

"Time is critical," Joji continued, his gaze piercing through the group of survivors. "If he's here, you'll find him."

"Right," another Jonin responded, her voice cold and sharp. "We'll leave no stone unturned."

Without further discussion, the Jonin split into teams, each moving with the precision of a well-oiled machine. The air was thick with purpose as they melted into the crowd, eyes scanning every face, every shadow.

---

The tension was palpable as Joji and Ryojin stood at the edge of the group, each one scanning the faces before them. Joji's sharp eyes flicked from orphan to orphan, mentally crossing off those who were clearly not their target. Ryojin, his arms crossed, surveyed the group with a lazy, half-interested stare.

"He's not here." Joji's voice was flat, but his expression betrayed the storm brewing inside him.

Ryojin's gaze flickered to Joji, sensing the change. "he is not here. Not a single trace."

A realization struck Joji like a cold slap to the face. Amatsu had slipped through the cracks, and he hadn't fallen for their trap. Joji felt the familiar weight of doubt creeping into his mind. "Where is he?" he murmured, eyes narrowing.

Ryojin's expression hardened. "Kid's smarter than I gave him credit for."

Joji's posture didn't shift, but his thoughts were racing. This kid has been playing us from the start. Every step, every move... He's always one step ahead.

Ryojin smirked as he looked over the orphans, his tone sharp. "You don't just get that smart by accident. He's watching us, no doubt. Always calculating, always ahead."

Ryojin eyed Joji, sensing the calculation behind the quiet exterior. The gears were turning in Joji's head, and Ryojin knew better than to disturb him while he was in one of those moods. Joji had earned his reputation through a series of quiet, bloody victories. He was a tactician, a manipulator—a genius when it came to war.

"I'll make my move," Joji said, his voice calm but carrying a weight that made Ryojin pause. "But first, we need to test how dangerous he really is. His strength, his mind... we need to understand what we're up against."

Ryojin's eyes narrowed, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he took in Joji's words. "Hanzo was always about the prep work," he said, his tone lazy but with a sharp edge underneath. "Guess we'll see just how dangerous this guy really is before we do anything stupid."

His posture remained relaxed, but the tension in his words made it clear he wasn't underestimating anyone.

Joji's gaze swept over the group, his eyes hard and calculating. "You ten are going into the forest."

One of the older orphans, a girl with defiant eyes, stepped forward, his voice rising with frustration. "You want us to go back in there... after everything we've been through? We're not your pawns! We've lost enough already!"

Ryojin's eyes locked onto the girl who had the nerve to protest, a twisted, amused grin slowly spreading across his face. In a flash, his arm snapped forward, the chain from his wrist shooting out like a deadly whip, its sharp end wrapping tight around her neck with brutal precision.

"Get over here," Ryojin spat, his voice dripping with sadistic pleasure, like he was savoring the moment more than anything. His tone was more playful than angry, as if he was enjoying the chaos unfolding.

The girl gasped, her hands desperately clawing at the chain as she struggled to breathe, but Ryojin was unbothered. His grip was unrelenting, every movement sending jolts of panic through her, but to him, it was just another game.

With a savage twist of his wrist, Ryojin jerked the chain, lifting her off the ground. His grin widened as he watched her choke, her face turning pale.

Then, in one smooth motion, he swung her down, slamming her into the dirt with a sickening crack. The sound of snapping bones echoed in the air as her body crumpled, lifeless, blood spilling from the broken mess she had become.

Ryojin casually reeled the chain back in, his eyes cold as he surveyed the stunned group. His face was expressionless, the casual brutality of it all hanging thick in the air.

"Next time," he said, his voice low and lethal, "keep your mouth shut."

He kicked the body aside with casual indifference, as if it were nothing more than a ragdoll, then turned his gaze back to the group. The silence that followed was heavy.

The remaining elite orphans, their eyes wide with fear, nodded quickly, their fear outweighing any semblance of rebellion. They understood.

Joji turned back to the group, his face unreadable. "This is how it goes. The ten of you will lead him to a point we've marked. You'll make enough noise to attract his attention, but not enough to give away your position. We're not going to overpower him—not yet. We're just distracting him long enough to trap him. If you do your job right, you survive."

Joji's voice remained eerily calm as he outlined their next steps. He didn't waste time with extraneous details. There was no comfort, no encouragement. Just cold, calculated instructions. "Get him close, lead him to the trap. If anything goes wrong, abort. We're not losing anyone else."

Ryojin looked around the group, eyes searching for weaknesses. He could see the fear in their faces, but also the steely resolve. They didn't want to die—not here, not now.

The orphans moved into the forest, their shadows swallowed by the night. Ryojin leaned against a tree, his eyes narrowing as they disappeared.

Ryojin leaned back against a tree, arms crossed, watching them too. His voice was low, full of dark amusement. "So, we just let them die."

Joji didn't flinch, his gaze never leaving the forest. "They're pawns. They lead him to the trap. If they die, we get his location."

Ryojin's grin was sharp, predatory. "And you don't give a damn?"

"No," Joji answered simply, his voice steady, calculating. "They're expendable. The mission comes first."

Ryojin snorted, uncaring. "Cold. But I like it. So, we just let them run around like bait, and when he takes the bite, we move in?"

Joji nodded once, slow and deliberate. "Exactly. Once we know where he is, the trap is set."

Ryojin cracked his neck, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "And if they screw up?"

Joji's expression remained cold, focused. "They won't. If they do, we'll adapt. Either way, we get his location."

Ryojin chuckled darkly, his eyes still on the forest. "So, we win either way. Bait or bodies, doesn't matter."

Ryojin grinned, his hands in his pockets. "Then let's see how long before the target takes the bait."

---

In the depths of the forest, Amatsu crouched low, hidden within the shadows of the trees. His eyes flicked over the scene, his mind already calculating, already plotting his next move.

The orphans moved deeper into the woods, unaware that their every step was being watched. Amatsu was quiet, his movements ghostlike, blending into the night. He had already anticipated this. He knew they would send the orphans as bait.

They think they're clever. They think they can trap me.

Amatsu did not move. He was patient.