kumogakure noire.

[Estilo]

Chaotic Bar Brawls [6]

---

An ear-splitting roar puts fear into the heart of every occupant as it rages. The man with the red-mane, his long strands of hair whipping wildly as he explodes into action, delves into an inexplicable and unsuspected fit of rage. The Bellamy brothers and their cohorts stand frozen in place for the moment, mouth agape and eyes widened in terror as the Jounin approaches in a flicker of motion. The first to have their nose broken is the leader of the group, followed to a swift uppercut into the gut of the younger of kin, forcing the scoundrel to vomit over a nearby patron of the tavern.

"GET THE BASTAAARD!" Someone demands.

And so it begins, hell breaking loose. A number of the thugs go in straight towards the shinobi in their presence, lunging at him with clenched fists, knives, and chains. The ones without weapons, or simply too afraid to approach the individual with their bare fists, scurry to find a chair, a bottle, anything they can use to deter their enemy and knock his ass out. But in his rage, a vicious fire dwelling at the center of his eyes, the half-masked male is not easily subdued. Like a cornered lion, he strikes relentlessly.

"I hate, I hate filthy hyenas!" He growls, holding a man by the lapels of his jacket, and forcefully punching his nose into ruin. Teeth and blood ascend into the air, raining down upon the frantic scene as the fighting continues. Those without a place in the small riot, scurry along the sides of the establishment and hastily make their way towards the exit. "You messed up baaad, poisoning me! And now you're all going to pay for it!" Hypnotized with the glory of beating down the unjust, he fails to notice the one thug behind him, lifting a chair, and yelling as he strikes down with it.

The chair snaps in three when it strikes the Jounin's back, but the damage from the assault is clearly minor. The red-maned man, with a crazy look in his eyes, drops the criminal scum in his grasp. The unconscious man's body lands to the ground with a hollow 'thump'. Then he turns around slowly, raising to both feet, and stares down the imbecile who hit him with a chair while his back was turned. The man in question steps back tentatively, his knees suddenly entering an uncontrollable fit of quivering. "W-Wait, I-"

"You fucked up."

[Estilo]

Chaotic Bar Brawls [7]

---

The idiot who hit him with the chair stumbled backwards, as the red-maned terror before him advanced. And then, without an ounce of mercy, the Jounin attacked. He brought a series of swift right jabs, then grabbed a chair and smashed it against the other man's chest, before kicking his opponent powerfully. The idiot he had targeted went flying out the bat-wing doors, crashing into the pavement of the street outside. The citizens outside gasped with horror at the sight of the man's bloody and mangled face, and hurried along their way. Meanwhile, chaos ensued in the darkness of the tavern.

Now with their dumbest chain in the link gone, the rest of the pack seemed to grow even more aggressive. They glared at the red-maned, half-masked Jounin with murderous eyes. They swung, and held, and raised, and whipped, and picked up their weapons. They formed a circle around the wild shinobi, intent on taking him down with the brute force of their combined might, attempting to ignore the strange growl of laughter that seeped through his toothy grin. And then, one man dared to ask, holding a short sword with unsteady, sweaty hands: "W-Who... who are you?"

The red-maned man, as if possessed, answers. "J I G E N!"

Without a moment of warning, he spins, the tail of his black long coat flapping violently with the action. With nothing more than his bare hands, he grabs one hyena by the sleeve of his jacket, uses him to pummel into everyone in a full circle, then throws him out the tavern window. Everyone affected by the sudden move is temporarily stunned. The sound of glass shattering precedes the following roar: "I - A M - T H E - K I N G!"

Terrified, brazen, or pissed, they all regain their wits and jump in to attack. Those without weapons come in first, jumping on the red-maned monster, piling on top of each other and trying to use their combined weight to pin him down. Their plan does, in fact, force him down to a crouch. And soon, the half-masked devil is lost beneath the pile of bodies struggling to keep him pinned. Little do they know, however, that he's performing hand seals in the shelter of flesh and clothing they'd constructed around him.

They would have no time to react or evade. But, at least, the Jounin would warn them of what was to come. "P U R A Z U M A - B O O R U!"

[Estilo]

Chaotic Bar Brawls [8]

---

The concoction of static chakra manifesting at the core of the Jounin's body suddenly exploded, spawning forth a terrifying red sphere of lightning and bolts. The first to scream received the worst of it. They could feel their eyes burning, their senses overloaded with unadulterated agony. And, when the possessed red-maned man roared, the sphere in question expanded in a shocking flash. Those unarmed hyenas that had jumped on him were flung backwards by the marvelous power, their bodies shattering the tables and chairs they landed on. Dust particles glowed with a strange red hue in the aftermath of the technique, people writhed with pain on the floor.

"W E A K - S C U M ! K N O W - Y O U R - P L A C E !"

The half-masked male entered a sudden bout of laughter, hands clenched tightly into fists, as the few that had endured the Plasma Ball technique struggled to get up. One of them included the leader, the oldest of the Bellamy brothers. "B-But... but we had you poisoned..." He muttered weakly, bleeding from his nose and sporting a swollen left eye. He carried a nearly half-bent katana in one hand, and a thick metal chain in the other. "This can't be happening!" He yells amidst the other's laughter, gaining the courage to drop his chain and grasp the hilt of his katana with both hands.

The two goons behind him, though scared and uncertain, each wield their axes and prepare to follow him into battle. This was going to be it, their final chance to end the shinobi and escape this alive. When they come at him, they came at him fast. Hopping over the bodies strewn across the messy tavern floor, the trio raise their weapons and attack from different directions. The man with the red-mane, however, kicks into action once more. The katana meant to slice him in half misses when he takes a swift side-step. The axe coming in horizontally from the right is evaded when he ducks down, sinking into the flesh of the older Bellamy brother by accident.

The axe, now lodged in his shoulder, drips with blood as he screams with pain and falls to the floor. His body writhes as the Jounin dispatches the last two in his wake. The axeless thug is taken out with a swift punch to the forehead, knocking him backwards and forcing his body to crash upon the last standing table in the room. The final crook in his midst attempts to kill the red-maned shinobi from behind, determined to lodge his own axe in the man's back. The Jounin, however, swings around and firmly grabs the mid-section of the axe's handle just before it strikes his head. With the axe stopped in its tracks, the miscreant whimpers. The lion smiles.

G A M E O V E R

[Estilo]

Chapter Three

City Patrol

name; city patrol
rank; b
description; Looks like you’ve been assigned to the entire village patrol itself. This may sound overwhelming and to be honest it is, but it’s B rank so don’t complain. You need to hit every district, stop and report all crime and make sure that the village itself is running well. Write down anything out of the ordinary that you see.
reward; 300 experience, 5,000 ryo
minimum shinobi; one
mission status; interminable

It was a cloudy and cold day in Kumogakure no Sato. The Jounin woke up at around six in the morning. His alarm had been set for seven, but he didn't necessarily care for that last hour of sleep last night's attitude had demanded. With an extra hour added to his daily routine, the half-masked male could take the opportunity to get a few things done ahead of time, and make room for other chores he was required to complete. He rose weakly from his bed, throwing the sheets that covered him off, his eyes half-closed as he yawned. He would sit on the edge of the soft mattress for a while thereafter.

This was typical for him. Sitting alone in the early hours of morning, processing his thoughts, and dreams, and aspirations. And, of course, waking up. But to him, it was more than just gaining his bearings. It had become common practice, something akin to a meditation that prepared him for the entirety of the day to come. When all was said and done, he would get up on both feet and stumble into the restroom of his small apartment. It was time to get ready for work. Today, he'd be providing Kumogakure no Sato with the service of a 'city patrol', part of his duties as a shinobi.

So, without a single moment of pause thereafter, he'd get to preparing himself for the day to come. A shower, a shave, his clothing, his accessories, his breakfast, and then out the door he went. He would, obviously, begin with the sector that he saw as his own neighborhood. It wasn't the most luxurious of neighborhoods, mind you, nor a complete shit-hole. In fact, if there was any way the Jounin would describe it, he supposed he'd do so like this: a quiet community nestled within a jungle of concrete, marketplaces, and trendy little trinket stores. He shared the apartment complex with four other tenants, two of whom he had never met, one who was too old and grouchy to care about, and an ex-girlfriend he sometimes... visited.

Though he found the interior of his apartment comfortable and relaxing, decorated with posh furniture, and stocked with delicious cooking ingredients, the red-maned man had always withheld a feeling of restlessness when cooped up in his room for too long. He used to have a dog, Wunderbar, long ago. And he used to take said dog on recurring walks throughout Kumogakure no Sato. But he had given the small canine to a family a long time ago. Now, the only thing to keep him company when nobody else would was his missions. City patrol gave him an excuse to go outdoors. And he would do his best to fulfill his trusted duty.

[Estilo]

City Patrol [2]

---

He began with a slow-tempo walk down the main boulevard of his neighborhood, contemplating where to go after he surveyed this small sector of Kumogakure no Sato. It was only about seven in the morning, and most of the stores that called this place their home had not yet opened. The ones that did- the florist, the grocer, the diner's- slowly came back to life as the employees that worked their unlocked the doors and started preparing for the customers that would come. Sometimes, when these occupants caught sight of the half-masked male, the Jounin would wave to them and smile. "Good morning~!" He'd exuberantly say, brimming with energy.

And then, he would continue his early morning patrol of this sector, thinking back on the previous day's... unusual events. He would not, however, have much time to do so. What suddenly took him out of his daydreaming came in the form of a woman's shouting. Somewhere, past the alley to his right, a woman demanded that something leave her flowers alone. Without a moment's hesitation, the shinobi of Kumogakure no Sato would burst into a light jog, running down that same alley as the woman's incessant- and angered- pleading reverberated off the stone walls of the passageway.

He'd reach the end of the alleyway, following the screams and yells to a small two-story house nestled between a book store and apartment complex. At the forefront of this house, a small patio housed a collection of flowers and other fauna. The wooden fence that was situated around this patio, however, had been breached from one side- the wooden planks torn apart and stomped on. The woman who had been screaming, a forty-year old woman in her nightdress, pulled her hair in distress as a fat, tusked hog ate her beautiful flowers. "OFF!" She would yell. "GET OFF OF THEM!"

Holding back the urge to laugh uncontrollably, the Jounin calmly approaches the fat brown hog as he shakes his head with disapproval. Though he has done his best to contain his amusement, a wide smile still manages to cut across his countenance. The woman, noticing his presence, turns her head to him and raises a single brow. "THIS ISN'T FUNNY." She yells, pointing at the hog. "GET THAT THING AWAY! PUT MY TAXES TO WORK, SHINOBI." Realizing that the woman might be a thorn on his side when he had to turn in his report, and thoroughly displeased with the fact that she had to be so rude (when he was going to help her anyway), the Jounin sighs and nods. But... the hog looked like it weighed a thousand pounds! How, in the name of bloody hell, would he go about this?

[Estilo]

City Patrol [3]

---

The hog squealed with obvious displeasure as the shinobi of Kumogakure no Sato pulled very roughly on its tail. Though the thing's weight was immense, the red-maned man actually had hope that he would be able to dissuade it from continuing to eat the woman's flower. No dice. The thing wouldn't budge. It had its breakfast right in front of it, a delicious breakfast, and it wasn't going to give it up so easily just because a couple of humans didn't like it. So, realizing he'd have to get more creative, the half-masked male releases his grip on the appendage, sighs, wipes the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, and holds his hands on his hips.

Now, he figured, he was going to have to go ahead and use some of his ninjutsu. He didn't want, because he believed that something terrible might go wrong and actually kill the poor creature, but he honestly didn't see another alternative to this situation. He couldn't coax it away with anything else, couldn't anger it enough to have it chase him, and couldn't pull it away if his life depended on it. And the woman yelling at him in the background definitely wasn't helping either. So, knowing there was no other way, he began to ponder his options. What technique could he use for this?

And then, the answer struck him like lightning. It was so obvious! Why had he not thought about it earlier? His smile turned into a mischievous smirk as he began to form the necessary hand seals. The hog, unaware as it stuffed its face with flowers and chewed them greedily, was in for one hell of a surprise. Pulling on its tail hadn't worked. The Jounin couldn't do it... by himself. But with the sudden poofs of smoke that erupted around him, now he could. Five shadow clones surrounded him, each in his image in every way. With this upgrade in manpower, he actually stood a chance now.

In unison, they would approach the hog and grab it from all sides. It took them a while at first, considering the fact that the creature was definitely unwilling to go along with this, and struggled with all its might. But eventually, they managed to hoist the creature up and carry it away from the already torn garden. The woman, having nearly pulled the entirety of her hair out, gazed at her mess of a patio as the Jounin and his clones carried the squealing pig away to the nearest animal shelter. He wasn't sure where it had come from, but he hoped it would find a good home thereafter.

[Estilo]

City Patrol [4]

---

Having finished surveying the entirety of the neighborhood in Kumogakure no Sato he called home, the red-maned Jounin would move on to another sector- and, presumably, another array of problems that needed to be fixed. The scenery changed as his advanced. The streets were still stone-paved, mind you, and the houses looked relatively the same. But now, everything had a touch of... festivity, to it. That did, of course, come with its downfall. The neighborhood he was in looked like it had hosted such a big event the previous night, that the sidewalks were littered with trash and celebration paraphernalia. The Jounin had to watch his step around empty soda cans.

But the rest of the place looked good. With city workers already cleaning up the mess that surrounded him with brooms and dustpans, he could focus on the rest of the things occurring around here. He observed the sides of the buildings, the walls, and the alleyways with great interest. Graffiti proclaimed someone named "Hiro" as the King. Banners bearing that same man's name were strewn across patios, porches and benches. The stores located in this sector of Kumogakure no Sato had posters on their windows.

This "Hiro", as the posters would suggest, was a young man in his early twenties. He carried a sterling smile, neatly groomed black hair, and shockingly blue eyes. It seemed, he had been hosting a party the previous night. His party. And, though he lived in this medium-class neighborhood with his fellow students and roommates, his family was wealthy and prominent in this village. It was obvious that he had funded the previous night's block party and caused this entire- and simply bewildering- mess.

The half-masked Jounin would shake his head with disapproval, realizing that the city workers hired to clean up this rich boy's mess were draining resources and money from Kumogakure no Sato's vaults. Just because this kid wanted to prove that he had loads of unearned money to the rest of the world. As he thought about it, it kind of pissed him off. But what could he really do about it? And then, without warning, an explosion in the sky. Except, there was something wrong about it. The explosion, in all its glory, flared with an exuberant purple glow. His face contorted into one of immediate confusion. Exactly what the hell was going on here now?

[Estilo]

City Patrol [5]

---

Fireworks. The answer had been so obvious. That supposed "explosion" had, in reality, been a stray firework. Some idiot out there was still firing these things, when it was clear that the time for that had passed. A firework could cause some serious fire damage to the village if it went unchecked and, knowing this could surely be a catastrophic event, the Jounin was determined to find the dumb-ass firing these things and put him to a stop. The idiot had to learn these sort of things couldn't go on like this, and it was unwarranted. He had to know that, despite the mischievousness of a lot of people, there were shinobi out there to put a stop to the antics.

This stranger would have a first-hand experience about this. The half-masked, red-maned Jounin would make damn sure about it. So he began to head towards the direction from whence the purple explosion of fireworks had come from, scaling a wall with his feet, and leaping in the air, before landing roughly on a rooftop. He would then advance, at such a quick speed that anybody watching would only see a blur of red and black. He was going to end this, fast, because he had a lot of other shit to do today.

And then, as if he hadn't been expecting it, another firework pierced the early morning sky. This time, the color had been red, sparks of crimson contrasted deeply against the hues of light blue tinting the once dark sky. As the half-masked Jounin approached the source of these explosions faster, he would soon be able to discern someone's laughter. The idiot he was after was close, clearly enjoying his personal fireworks show somewhere in the crevices of this neighborhood. The shinobi would hasten his approach.

As the kid-like chortling became clearer and clearer, the man with the red-mane would run parallel to the rooftop's edge and peer down at the shadowy alley-ways he passed. For the first few blocks, he didn't see anyone. Sure, a couple of homeless people and waves of debris scattered about. But not some stupid numbskull holding a lighter under a length of string. But he was so sure he was at the brink of discovering such a sight. He wasn't, however, expecting a raggedy old man with a bag of stolen firepower.

[Estilo]

City Patrol [6]

---

"BAKAAA. OLD MAN. STOP YOUR GALLIVANTING." The Jounin would roar from the rooftop above, yelling at the raggedy old man situated in the alleyway below. His eyes seemed to burst with exaggerated rage, his right hand curled up into a furious fist, while his left rested on his hip. The old man, bearing crazy and excited eyes, tied up his potata sack bag of fireworks really quick, and made a run for it. He literally skipped away, laughing all the while, as he made his dash. The red-maned man, rolling his eyes, quickly went into pursuit. They always ran.

"I EXPECTED BETTER OF OUR SENIOR CITIZENS." He yelled, hopping from rooftop to rooftop, running along the edges as he kept his sight on the old man skipping along below. "YOU NEED TO RELINQUISH THOSE FIREWORKS AND GIVE YOURSELF UP, OLD TIMER." The old man, however, didn't listen. Instead, he hopped over a melon cart, ran into a nearby flower shop, and smashed the door shut behind him. Puzzled, the red-maned Jounin would stop in his tracks. Why would he hole up in there? When he heard a women scream, he continued.

Hastily, the shinobi of Kumogakure no Sato would leap off the side of the building he was on and landed roughly on the stone-paved street below. His black boots tapped against the stone as he walked, cautiously, towards the entrance of the flower shop. The glass door the old man had forcefully shut behind him was now cracked, deep fissures running across it like dried up rivers. The larger window to its side, displaying a vast array of plants and flowers, kept the sight of the establishment's interior hidden behind a veil.

The Jounin, wrapping the fingers of his gloved hand over the doorknob of the front entrance, tentatively opened the door. The old man was in there, trapped, he presumed. This could make anyone dangerous, that sensation of no-way-out, and he'd seen it drive people into recklessness before. But then again, he remembered that look in the old man's eyes. That gleam of crazy that told him that this was exactly the kind of person who was unpredictable. So, barely daring to sigh, he would open the door to the shop.

[Estilo]

City Patrol [7]

---

Opening the door, as it turned out, was quite the foolish decision. What greeted the shinobi of Kumogakure no Sato on the other side was nothing short of daunting. The old man, with that same crazy look in his eyes, held a bundle of fireworks under a single arm, gripping them tightly with the side of his hairy armpit. A low hiss permeated the air, the sound of fire crackling as it burned the tips of rope. Growing wide-eyed and withholding a deep disbelief for what the old man was doing, the red-maned Jounin quickly turned. This old geezer was definitely a mad man, but to point a stack of lit fireworks at a shinobi- that most definitely crossed the line!

The half-masked male only managed to run away for a couple of seconds before the lit fireworks exploded, their previously low-level hissing suddenly sparking to life as they created sharp, ear-splitting whistles. The old man's laughter tinged the chaotic mess of noise, as streaks of sparkling and bursting color literally blew the flower shop's door open and showered the street with sparks. The shinobi of Kumogakure no Sato, clearly distressed as bolts of yellow, blue, red and purple pinched his behind with heat, leaped over a nearby merchant's stall and ducked for cover.

The fireworks flared for over a minute, setting the little fauna scattered about the street- on porches, pots, and sidewalks- aflame with the euphoria of neon colors exploding in every direction. But when the red-maned Jounin noticed the last of the fireworks dying out, he decided it was time for him to jump back into action once more. Without a doubt, the geezer would run off once his firepower died out, if hadn't already run off to begin with. This being the case, the half-masked male would need to react without a pause or hesitation thereafter. He needed to catch the psycho, before someone got hurt.

So, as the few fireworks that existed still flared- explosions in the air turning the neighborhood thoroughfare from a setting of peace to one of makeshift war- the Jounin leaped over the merchant stall he was previously crouched behind and made a run for the florist shop entrance. The old man had run already, having left the fireworks on the ground and dashed for the back door, and the half-masked male figured that the fireworks and flames he was leaving behind him would be dealt with by shinobi of Kumogakure no Sato would could see it from faraway. He could focus on the criminal now!

[Estilo]

City Patrol [8]

---

Ducking just before a bright orange ball of sparks hit his face, the red-maned shinobi would leap into the entrance of the flower shop, and land with a perfectly executed duck-and-roll. He wouldn't miss a beat, however, as he continued on into his full-sprint and tried to ignore the startled screams of the shop's owner. His eyes quickly scanned the establishment's reception area. There was a flight of stairs, leading to some unknown rooms on the second-story. Seeing no back door, the shinobi of Kumogakure no Sato advanced. He found three doors on the second floor, but only one was opened. He chose this one as the most probable exit the geezer might have chosen.

Entering the room, which appeared to be some kind of storage for seeds and bags of soil, he found an open window that lead to an emergency exit. Quickly, he took a few quick paces towards it, crouched, and maneuvered his way through the makeshift exit. He could hear the old man escaping now, making his way down the noisy flights of metal stairs, trying to reach the alleyway below as quickly as his old yet toned legs would let him. And, surely, he thought he could just skip away like before and put all this behind him- leaving the red-maned man with an embarrassment so large that he would never live it down. But, the shinobi decided, that would not happen.

So, without regarding the amount of damage an action like this could give him, the half-masked Jounin leaped off the flight of stairs just before the old man reached the surface of the alleyway. It was only a two-story drop, mind you, so he landed safely below after all. The old man, with fear in his eyes but madness in his smile, froze in place a moment before he attempted to make a skip for it. The Jounin laid a firm hand on the geezer's shoulder, assuring himself that the chase was over: "You're coming with me."

---

The rest of the day was spent dealing with situations- not too different from his previous ones, actually- and turning them in to the Raikage's office. It was a tiring and exhausting chore, one that he often grumbled about as he walked the active streets of his village, but his determination to serve his country outweighed all other feelings. At this point in time, he was a dedicated soldier. So, as night wore on and more nasty scenarios were dealt with, he would check his watch and clock in to the tower when his work shift was over. After dealing with all the paperwork thereafter, he'd saunter on back to his apartment and knock out on his bed. He was done.

G A M E O V E R

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[Estilo]

Chapter Four

Love Circle

name; love circle
rank; b
description; Everyone needs some lovin’, everyone needs some TLC. Truer words have never been spoken and it looks like people are willing to pay anything to get it. As you well know prostitution is a crime in Kumogakure and will be prosecuted as such. Turns out a group has been passing themselves of as “escorts” and racking in the dough. I need you to track these girls down, catch them in the act, defeat their pimp guardian and bring them all in to answer for their crimes.
reward; 300 experience, 5,000 ryo
minimum shinobi; one
mission status; interminable

The night glistened with moonlight. Stone-paved streets served as a mirror to the celestial body above, riddled with puddles that had been formed with the previous hour's rainfall. Such occurrences were common in the village known as Kumogakure no Sato, and a personal preference in weather to one of its most prominent Jounin. The red-maned, half-masked individual known as the "Crow King" loved to stroll the streets at night for his own pleasure. And, on nights like these, he absolutely enjoyed inhaling that simply fresh aroma of rainwater against stone. But tonight was different.

He wasn't just strolling the streets for pleasure anymore. No, he was strolling streets to complete the task detailed in his latest mission. An abusive and abhorrent "pimp" named Slickback, who actually preferred to be called "A Pimp Named Slickback", had been targeted by the Raikage's officials. He was known to take advantage of women, young and old, and was very adept at keeping them under his control, demanding they work as prostitutes. The moment one of them ended up dead in a canal, however, was the moment Kumogakure no Sato had condemned him to guaranteed imprisonment. They'd sent other shinobi out after the man before, and all those times had failed. But with the "Crow King", success was guaranteed.

So, here he was. Strolling the puddled streets past midnight, gazing at the moon to keep up the facade of an innocent citizen back from work and headed home. But in reality, he was headed straight for the red-light district of Kumogakure no Sato. The location of this district wasn't particularly well-known by the officials in the Raikage's tower, but the "Crow King" had connections underground. After a few calls, his contacts had pointed him this way, towards an unlikely but seemingly correct sector of the village. Places like this were nice in the daytime, but during the dark night...

Things changed. The red-maned man knew that. So he didn't exactly throw out the idea of this public neighborhood being a red-light district when the moon was out. As he walked into the territory, he would gaze about. There were small shopping malls scattered about, closed down shops adorning the boardwalks that criss-crossed all around, neat little plazas with cafes and diners that glowed bright with "OPEN" signs and posters that proudly declared the best prices (or the best meal-deal, or coffee) in town.

[Estilo]

Love Circle [2]

---

Now, the thing about this case was that this wasn't some low-down, cheap and ghetto, service this pimp he was pursuing was providing. No, he "prided" himself too much to run a business like that. Instead, the shameless crook was running what was best known as an "escort service". Those who could afford the girl of their choosing could pay for this reportedly high-quality service and enjoy it in the comfort of their homes, or expensive hotel rooms. But in order to even have a connection trustworthy enough to "hook it up" and contact the "Pimp Named Slickback", one needed to have good standing in the underground community. One needed to be trusted.

Luckily for the shinobi of Kumogakure no Sato, he already had that sort of connection. An informant, who wasn't necessarily the picturesque image of a "rat". No, this guy played his part perfectly. His name was "Eye-Patch" because, quite obviously, he wore an eye-patch'. He worked undercover as a middle-man for various dealers and pimps, all completely unaware that he had been lured into an agreement by the officials at the Raikage tower.

In fact, only a handful of shinobi knew who this rat was. The man with the red-mane was one of them, thanks to his standing in the ranks of Kumogakure no Sato's soldiers. And he was going to take advantage of this asset during the assignment he was currently on. But first, of course, he needed to attend the meeting that they had scheduled. So, as the night wore on and as he continued to walk towards the intended direction of his meeting, the half-masked male would enter the heart of the district and see exactly why this place was known as the "red-light district".

In the shady corners of a large tavern, several women (and some men dressed as women!) smoked and waited and lined up against the stone walls and alleyways. Men came and wait, exchanging ryo and taking some of these "employees" along with them, to parts unknown. The tavern that they situated themselves beside was bustling with activity, but not enough to capture the attention of some wayward shinobi that might have gotten his or herself lost in this part of the neighborhood. They were playing this smart, and it was no longer a surprise that they had been keeping their business alive for quite a while now. This mission was starting to get a bit interesting.

[Estilo]

Love Circle [3]

---

The red-maned Jounin headed straight towards the area where "Eye-Patch" said he'd be, in the tavern, and at the bar. Donning a long black cloak and a matching hood, the Jounin strived to keep his flowing red mane a mystery from the others, keeping most of it hidden beneath the shadow cast. If there was anything that made him stand out in a crowd, it was that, and his charmingly good looks. So, crossing through the crowds of degenerates and prostitutes that hung around the establishment he was headed towards, the undercover shinobi of Kumogakure no Sato would head into the tavern in search of his informant. He had little time, it was time to move on.

The interior of the establishment bustled with as much life as the exterior had, and the only notable difference was the music coming from the piano player across the room. It reverberated against the wooden walls with a crisp and clear sound, despite the amount of people and conversations happening at once. He stood at the forefront of the entrance for a moment, scanning the scenery with emerald green eyes, trying to take notice of every person in the room with one fell swoop. When he caught sight of "Eye-Patch", the hooded man would advance, passing wooden tables, chairs, and patrons.

The smell of alcohol hung thick in the air, the sound of drunken buffoons running rampant all over the place. He nearly ran into an idiot or two, ignoring their disapproval of his presence as he continued on, not wanting to spend his night fighting drunks and breaking up bar brawls because of it. That definitely would not go well in his report. So, once having reached the bar and the informant that awaited him there, the hooded man would place a hand on the man's shoulder- startling him, and causing him to abruptly turn around. The half-masked man under the shadow smiled, amused.

"Oh, it's you." EP would say, his eyes shifting to and fro, as if he were suspecting someone to listen in on the conversation that ensued. Ready to obtain as much information (and set-up a meeting) from EP, the hooded man took his seat beside the man and ordered a rum and coke. They would talk for a while thereafter, and "Eye-Patch" would give him the details. He could set him up with a meeting, at a secret brothel, with "A Pimp Named Slickback". He just needed some time, and an expensive amount of ryo.

[Estilo]

Love Circle [4]

---

Two days passed, two days of waiting and hoping the "Eye-Patch" had not just taken Kumogakure no Sato's money and ran with it. All the while, the half-masked shinobi pondered what to do next, and how he would approach the situation given to him in the coming hours. When "Eye-Patch" finally contacted him, the red-maned Jounin gave a deep sigh of relief. His meeting with "A Pimp Named Slickback" had been set in stone, and he had finally been given the address to the secret brothel he owned. Now, he just needed to go there and handle his business. But he needed to play it smart.

Yes, he could just go in there and apprehend the pimp, setting all of his escorts free. But that would solve half of the problem. If "A Pimp Named Slickback" was working with any other people, the Jounin needed to root them out, identify them, and arrest them, too. See, if he hauled the main guy away, he was almost certain any "apprentices" he might have would just take-over, continue, and possibly attempt to break their boss free. The Jounin could not have that. And he would take the necessary measures to ensure that such a situation did not occur. He was cautious like that.

So, after donning his black cloak and hood once more, he left the comfort of his home and advanced towards the clandestine brothel. It was night again, just a little past eleven o' clock. He needed to be at the brothel at exactly midnight, if he hoped to infiltrate this network of pimps and sleezebags. And "A Pimp Named Slickback", it was rumored, was quite an impatient man. The fact that one of his escorts ended up dead, after a very public reprimanding at the heart of the "red-light district", laid testament to that very attribute. And the red-maned Jounin couldn't afford to lose this lead.

He picked up his pace as he leaped and sprinted across the rooftops of Kumogakure no Sato, heading deeper and deeper into the darker neighborhoods. These were places were crimes ran most rampant, were parents told their children not to go to, were the homeless fought each other for scraps of food and slept under flimsy boxes. If there was ever a neighborhood the Raikage had to be embarrassed about, it would most likely be this one. Everything here was nasty, and dirty, and mean. But, though all the buildings seemed unimpressive, this neighborhood had its secrets. Somewhere in this heap of shame, was the brothel.