kumogakure noire.

[Estilo]

Love Circle [5]

---

The factory used to make cardboard boxes, and ironically, most of these still inhabited the neighborhood- being used as homes for the homeless sheltered around these parts. Outwardly, the factory was quite large, and its walls were tainted with graffiti art. The few windows that this building had were at the edge of the rooftops above, so far up that no civilian could have a chance of infiltrating the building that way. No, instead, they'd be forced to go through the front doors situated at the north face of the factory.

Having followed the address he had written on a small piece of paper back home, the red-maned Jounin knew for certainty that this place was being used as a clandestine brothel house. An, apparently, he just needed to knock at the front door and give the inhabitants a "password". Apparently, customers of this awful trade only needed to attend this strange meeting once, whereupon they'd reach some sort of agreement with "A Pimp Named Slickback", and they'd never have to go back here again. The shinobi wanted to know exactly what these agreements were about, who had employed the services of these escorts, and how things were being run.

So he approached the large, steel-gray door at the north end of the reportedly abandoned factory. He took a deep breath, gaining his bearings, running through what he was going to say, how he was going to act, and how he was going to respond to whatever they might throw at him. Without another moment of hesitation, and figuring that the more he thought about it, the more complicated it would appear in his mind, the hooded stranger knocked on the door thrice. There was a slot at eye-level, which slid open seconds after he had knocked on the door. Two dark eyes appeared.

The fat bodyguard on the other side demanded a password, and the undercover shinobi answered his request. He could see the bodyguard nodding on the other side of the door, waiting just a moment before said door finally opened and he was allowed passage into the secret brothel. What he saw on the other side was simply astonishing, compared to the awful sight of poverty outside. It was truly black and white. But, knowing how all of this was funded, he didn't exactly take pleasure in it. He wanted to arrest everyone he saw right then and there, but he needed to be patient in order to bag them all. Once this was over, he'd be pleased.

[Estilo]

Love Circle [6]

---

The interior of the factory was anything but affected by the poverty drowning the streets outside. Inside, the walls were clean and decorated with framed paintings and wallpaper. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling above, soft lighting brought illumination to the room in seductive ways. A hallway lead the undercover shinobi from the entrance to the lobby, a spacious room that branched off into other rooms with various hallways. It was decorated with posh furniture and a calming ambiance. Unusual, for a pimp.

There was a pretty receptionist at the back of the front desk, who immediately called the red-maned man over when she caught sight of him. She wore, quite surprisingly, nothing but a bra and panties. When she inquired after who he was, and discovered that he had arrived just in time for his meeting, she would lead him to another room. This time, the half-masked male would end up in someone's office, approached by a man that clearly wasn't "A Pimp Named Slickback". He claimed he was the man's son, here to oversee the meeting. The Jounin was forced to play along.

After their meeting, and after the half-masked Jounin exhausted the fake credentials he had taken with him on this meeting, the man running things at the moment escorted him to yet another room. He was going to let him "test" out one of the escorts now, as a complimentary service for their most recent business agreement. He ended up leading the undercover shinobi of Kumogakure no Sato to a larger lobby than the one before it, a myriad of pretty women lounging around on the couches and chairs and against the walls. When they caught sight of a potential client, they smiled.

Immediately, it seemed as though they all went from inactive to seductive mode. They would flaunt the attributes of their bodies, each of them unique in their own way, exhibiting scantily-clad forms in skimpy little outfits. Watching these girls with masked disappointment, he would realize that most of them were in their mid-twenties. Somehow, they had been lured by "A Pimp Named Slickbakc" into this awful business. But he would find something to set them free, and imprison their cruel bosses.

[Estilo]

Love Circle [7]

---

Her name was Manti. And she was one of the sweetest girl's he had ever met. After she had attempted to do many things to him- quite persistently, in fact- the red-maned shinobi had finally managed to calm her down and talk things out. She knew a lot of things about the organization she was being forced to work for, and she nearly cried at the thought of escaping, hugging the "Crow King" when she learned that he was a shinobi of Kumogakure no Sato. She was going to help as much as she could thereafter.

Knowing exactly where to go from his current position in their private room, he would instruct Manti to stay safely there. He was going to sneak out, sneak about, and retrieve what he needed to bring this case to a close. And, as he crept along the sides of the various hallways located within this secret brothel, he would activate a technique that would render him invisible. With this active, he could sneak around and not be detected via the eyes, which made his task that much more easier. So, quietly, he made his way.

Eventually, he would reach the office of the main guy around this place- "A Pimp Named Slickback". He entered this place, cautiously opening the door as to not let a single peep escape, and swiftly searched for the ledger he was looking for. The vicious pimp kept a book recording all of his transaction in considerable detail, which would provide the shinobi with a great chunk of evidence when the trial against "A Pimp Named Slickback" ensued.

As he searched feverishly through the drawers, desks, cabinets, and chests, he would start to think that the ledger wasn't here. But, after lock-picking a drawer, he would be relieved to find the large blue book right where Manti said it would be. Without warning, however, the door to the office opened once more. And in entered "A Pimp Named Slickback", his visage that of a white man with a long black beard, braided black hair, and clothing that would resembled that of a pirate at a renaissance disco for cowboys.

[Estilo]

Love Circle [8]

---

The red-maned Jounin stayed completely quiet, cornered up in the office, keeping his chakra afloat as he strived to stay invisible. The crook he was after was in here with a cohort, some manager of his that sported large muscles and a very dark tan. When this muscled individual took a seat in front of the office desk, the Jounin immediately sought to move before "A Pimp Named Slickback" made his way around said desk and accidentally bumped into him. His position was, more or less, on his side of the office table. So, with expertly performed finesse, he did exactly just that.

They started to talk, something about pricing and handling a customer that wasn't meeting their qualifications, but the half-masked male was content with leaving the scene with the ledger at hand. He could call in for reinforcements, get all these guys locked away, and then hunt down those who were not present by searching through the names, numbers, and addresses listed in the ledger he had in his grasp. Just as he was about to open the door to leave, however, "A Pimp Named Slickback" suddenly expressed a sound of surprise, realizing that his ledger was missing.

There was silence for a moment, and the Jounin believed he could still get away with it without having to hurt anyone himself. But then, that muscled guy's ear twitched, and he knew that (somehow) his cover had been blown. The two of them- the Jounin and the bodyguard with the muscles- exploded into action. The Jounin's invisibility suddenly disappeared, and before "A Pimp Named Slickback" could react, he would bear witness to the shinobi of Kumogakure no Sato effectively taking out his employee.

"W-what in the name of Mary?!"

A devilish smile crossed over the half-masked Jounin's face, and the crook before him would suddenly realize what was happening and who this stranger was. He knew, by seeing the ledger in the Jounin's hands, that his operation was over. His prostitutes would be released and taken care of, his official employees gathered and arrested, and he would be spending a lot of time in the communal showers of prison. The case was finally closed.

G A M E O V E R

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[Estilo]

Chapter Five

Trap City

name; trap city
rank; b
description; We have good news and bad news. Good news is we finally found a warehouse we can build that new gymnastics training center for our young ninja’s to train. The bad news is it was owned by a nutjob convinced the world would end and he’d need a trapped out fortress. That’s where you come in. We need you to get in to the warehouse somehow, de-activate the many traps and move all the shit in it, out of it.
reward; 300 experience, 5,000 ryo
minimum shinobi; one
mission status; interminable

"Na-na-na, now, now! The world will end! Don't you know?"

The speaker phones scattered about the ceiling of the immensely large factory balred with the sound of the crazy doomsday prepper, a man who had taken over this once abandoned establishment quite a long while ago. Though he had not taken the liberty of actually buying this place, instead using his inherited ryo to purchase a variety of equipment, he practically lived here as though it were his home. It was the red-maned, half-masked Jounin's duty to take him out of there. For the sake of a classroom's gymnastic abilities, he would need to deactivate all, or at least most, of the traps located here. But he needed to be really careful and smart about it.

So he approached the entrance to the maze the man had set up carefully, keeping his eye peeled for triggers. The maze had been constructed with bricks and metal and, considering the fact that he didn't know exactly what was up ahead, he couldn't just break everything down so easily. What if, for example, there were bombs scattered about? He could possibly die!

So, he advanced, eyeing the posters along the walls with great confusion- antique posters that showed pictures of days of old. On several, there were ads proclaiming the fame of a singer or actor, and on others, they flaunted the images of beautiful theaters and clubs. Most of them, however, were poorly written warnings of some bad apocalypse event to come.

He ignored these, knowing they were nothing more than the visual psycho-babble that came with an intensely disturbed person. He accepted the fact that people were scared of events to come, and he found that normal to some extent, but to rig an entire factory with traps- endangering the lives of the rightful owners- that just crossed the line. He really didn't like it.

[Estilo]

Trap City [2]

---

"How come you don't see? See, with me? The sky will burn!"

He walked for minutes without an end in sight. The maze this whacko had constructed was truly intricate, but at least he had not bothered to put in any dead ends. Everything was, for the most part, fairly straightforward. That was, of course, until he hit the first trap set out for him on this less than normal journey. The only reason the Jounin had noticed it, was because the man who had set it up was- to put it bluntly- an amateur at his craft.

A wire was positioned along the width of the narrow passageway he was being herded into, firmly positioned at ankle-height, but too thick to be considered sneaky. As the red-maned Jounin stepped over said wire, and followed its length, he would find that it connected to a lever, that would in turn, release a barrage of beach ball-sized rocks hoisted up above.

So, knowing that this trap needed to be dismantled, the half-masked male pulled out his bowie knife and cut the wire from a safe distance. Having done so, the rocks fell with a thunderous bang, bouncing off the brick walls on each side, and smashing against each other relentlessly. Shaking his head lightly with disappointment, the red-maned Jounin would continue on.

The passageway he traveled through began to grow wider now, and small camping sites and storage cabinets were becoming more and more frequent. It was clear, at least to the half-masked Jounin, that this man hiding out here was seriously scared about some oncoming extinction event. He had definitely strived to stock any blank space he could find around here with either a trap or accessory that would help him survive the apocalypse.

[Estilo]

Trap City [3]

---

"Stop, stop, stop it! These are my creations! My safeguards!"

The half-masked Jounin laughed. This guy was really missing a few screws. He wondered how it had come to this, exactly. That intense sense of paranoia that was practically soaked into all of his "creations", that desire to keep everyone out and build his own little world in an effort to survive something that probably wouldn't come for a very, very long time. He pondered what had exactly occurred to drive this man into this corner.

As he approached the next obvious and poorly constructed trap, the half-masked male would shake his head with disappointment once more, stop, and drop to a crouch as he evaluated what he was dealing with a bit more closely. A sheet covered the floor in front of him, clearly masking some sort of steep fall that would end in peril for anyone dumb enough to fall into it. Slowly, the shinobi of Kumogakure no Sato would peel away the cover.

He uncovered the steep twenty foot fall below, a seemingly death-dealing fall into darkness that ended horribly into a tangle of barb wire. The gleam of liquid was visible over the metal inhabiting this hole and, as the Jounin kept the hole uncovered, the smell of gasoline would waft upwards and reach his nostrils. Falling in there... it would have been a terrible way to go.

So he rolled up the sheet he had taken and dropped it within the hole, watching as it bounced within the crevices between the spiked metal coils. He figured, once this assignment was over, the cleaning crew Kumogakure no Sato would send would spot this trap easily, and hopefully fill it up with concrete shortly thereafter. Knowing this, he could continue on.

[Estilo]

Trap City [4]

---

"Ahahaha, come now, shinobi! We can work some sort of deal, nooo?"

"What are you doing, you little shit?! Get off that!

The sound of a speakerphone being pried away from somebody else's hands can be heard before the factory goes silent. The red-maned Jounin stops in his tracks as he acknowledges the new voice that had reverberated off the walls. There was somebody else here, an accomplice. And, considering the tone of voice he had used and the logic that followed with it, the shinobi figured this was the smarter one of the bunch. He had to be careful.

With the appearance of this new individual, he had to take the traps he was currently disarming into consideration. It was obvious, by observing the manner in which this maze was built and how the traps were set, that it was built from the "outside-in". If the crazy, belligerent man he was getting used to hearing had begun this project of his, then the other might have joined at a later date. With enough time to help the first complete this paranoid project.

And, if his hunch was correct, that would mean that the traps constructed further into this maze would be much harder to detect- or for that matter- disarm. The man who had interrupted the other's bout of crazy nonsense was surely going to be behind the difficulty of the trap's to come. Having realized that this was no longer the calm, unworried stroll he had hoped it would be, the shinobi of Kumogakure no Sato promptly advanced.

He walked a little slower than before, making sure his emerald green hues caught sight of every little detail as he walked, ensuring that his footing was okay and that he wouldn't set off any alarms that might have been placed on or around the ground below. And then he saw it. A tiled floor was positioned up ahead, covering a length of approximately twenty-five feet. There was something off about this, something was awaiting him.

[Estilo]

Trap City [5]

---

The tiles were elevated by mere inches, but clearly more than any typical tiles were supposed to be elevated. This, the Jounin decided, was unusual enough to warrant a closer inspection. He dropped down to a crouch at the forefront of these tiles covering the floor ahead, brought a single finger to his chin as he contemplated what he would do next. This was obviously a set-up, and the tiles he was faced with? Pressure plates in disguise.

He was certain that a mere shift in weight upon the surface of these plates would cause something to occur, but he was having a problem discovering exactly what that would be. He could, he supposed, make his way to the other side of the tiles by sprinting along the side of the wall, but his assignment clearly stated that he was entrusted with disarming any and all traps he came across. He couldn't just leave this behind and move on.

So, just for good measure, he'd make his way to the other side of the path just the way he had thought about doing so earlier. But not to continue on, mind you. No, he wanted to inspect the scene a bit more thoroughly, and ensure that he had scoured every inch around here before activating the trap on purpose. After looking around for a while longer, however, he didn't find anything pointing to the result that would come from the hidden trap.

Then, of course, he found it. Slowly, his gaze turned upwards. What first appeared as a conglomeration of metal, pipes, and air vents was soon revealed to be something much more relevant to what he was looking for. A collection of pipes were pressed against each other up top, and they all pointed towards the tiled floor below. The sides of these pipes were singed with black crust. And then, with a clever smirk crossing his face, the shinobi of Kumogakure no Sato realized exactly what he was dealing with now.

[Estilo]

Trap City [6]

---

With a good idea of what would occur should someone activate the pressure plates beneath the tiles, the red-maned Jounin dropped down to one knee and retrieved his pair of ankle weights. A weight seemed to lift off his shoulders, and he released a sigh of relief. Tying them together, he would then rise up to both his feet, then toss them into the center of the tiled floor. With the pressure plates activated, the trap exploded into activity.

Bursts of fire streamed from the pipes in unison, dropping from the ceiling above and showering the tiles below with an intense heat. The half-masked male shielded his face from the hotness of it all for a moment, his exposed emerald eye glistening with the fire light that emanated, scorching his ankle weights and the tiles below. Luckily for him, the ankle weights were fire resistant, and would not be damaged at all. The tiles, too, he supposed.

Sooner or later, he realized, the fire would die out. Whatever gasoline was fueling it at the moment, would surely run out. He turned over his shoulder, eyeing the path ahead. Maybe the crazies locked up in here thought he'd fallen for their trick, maybe they'd come running to haul away his charred body with a metal rake or something. But, that hope died when he saw the small camera nearby, peering down from the side of a metal vent.

They had their eyes on everything, and surely the "smart" one knew exactly what had happened. So they were powerless to stop the shinobi of Kumogakure no Sato now, not to mention the waste of the gasoline they had been using for their flamethrower trap. Finding this situation more than suitable, the red-maned man advanced. There were more traps that needed disarming, and a couple of whacko's that needed to be put behind bars.

[Estilo]

Trap City [7]

---

"The beautiful gasoline! Get away! It's our life-blood!"

"Get off that thing! We can't save it now, stupid! We ha-"

The half-masked Jounin rolled his eyes as the speakerphones overhead blared with the sound of those two idgits once more. Calmly, but as observantly as before, he followed the path before him- strolling between brick walls and stocked cabinets. For a minute or two, sure that he was nearly at the center of the long path ahead, there was nothing blocking or impeding his way. An uneasy silence fell upon the scenery, something was wrong. And then, without warning, he would fall into his first trap.

The path ahead and behind him would suddenly get blocked off, two walls that had seamlessly been integrated into the floor had been activated somehow. This prompted them to rise from below, not allowing the shinobi of Kumogakure no Sato to advance or retract his steps. With his instincts kicking immediately into action, the half-masked male's eyes gazed upward at the ceiling. His only escape, it seemed, was to go up. But, as if the trap house had been reading his mind, that too was swiftly blocked off.

The red-maned man hadn't see exactly what had covered the top, essentially trapping him in a box, and had only managed to look up fast enough to see the last sliver of artificial light disappear. So he jumped, and tapped the surface of whatever was blocking his way upwards, attempting to burst it upwards all the while. What he felt was solid, but not as heavy as he had first imagined. It had fallen, presumably, from a concealed position on the ceiling, once the trap had been triggered. But it could be lifted.

"Hee, hee, ha! Let's go extinguish his flame, Mako!"

"Tch. You said my name, stupid! This isn't over yet."

Knowing that they were coming, the half-masked male didn't mind waiting, performing a quick series of hand seals and charging his chakra as he did so. He was going to catch them off guard, and deter any weapons they might bring along with them. So, when he heard footsteps approaching, he would release his technique. Luckily for him, the blades that had pierced through concealed slots in the walls appeared just after he'd performed a high jump.

[Estilo]

Trap City [8]

---

"AHHHHHH."

"Shit, shit, shit!"

With his fisted hands pointed upwards towards the top of his "box", the red-maned Jounin burst open and out of his prison, landing with acute precision at the forefront of the trap. Before him, stood the two idiots he had been hunting down, both of them holding long spears. The two were trembling with fear as the red-maned shinobi of Kumogakure no Sato sported a wild smirk. The one with the brown hair, and the stupid terrified look upon his face, stayed frozen in place. The smarter one with the jet-black hair and the green overcoat made an immediate run for it, dropping his spear.

While his predator instinct told him to go after the one that was running, the half-masked male decided to detain the one frozen in place before him first. So he approached the individual with a few confident steps, immediately sparking a sense of desperation in the feeble man. He had a crazy look in his eyes, beads of sweat trailing down his forehead, a pair of goggles too loose for his head positioned half-hazardly against his scalp. He raised the tip of his spear with shaky and unsteady hands, ready to strike the shinobi.

The green-eyed Jounin, however, quickly dispatched this low-level threat. When the coward decided to close his eyes in fright and strike, the red-maned man easily dodged the stab and rushed forward. What followed was a brutal disarmament, a swift jab to the epicenter of the whacko's face, and a ruthless throw to the concrete below. The man was, for all intent and purposes, knocked out. And now, the shinobi could continue on and capture the other. But, of course, he'd have to get through all the traps first.

So he ran, his eyes flaring with an intense and passionate flame, adrenaline rushing through his veins like never before. He ducked past the knives that were fired at him after activating one trap, and leaped over pot holes hiding explosive mines thereafter. Every trap that awaited him, every trap that the last whacko had activated upon his desperate attempt at escape, he evaded. He disarm all of them (at least all that needed disarming after this), yes. But for now, his sights were focused on the master mind behind it all.

G A M E O V E R

[Estilo]

Chapter Six

Chief of Battle

name; chief of battle
rank; b
description; Good news and bad news, the good news is we recently captured 2 squads of non ninja mercenaries as well as their leader, the bad news is your fighting them right now. I hope your prepared for battle as they’ve come to fight. The commander is an expert of dual swords, under his command are two squads each containing 1 spearman, 1 crossbowman, 1 armored mace shock trooper and 1 shield and sword wielding soldier.
reward; 300 experience, 5,000 ryo
minimum shinobi; one
mission status; interminable

They stood there, in the mid-morning Kumogakure no Sato fog, brandishing their weapons and chuckling maniacally. As if they'd already won this fight, more than content with the amount of men they had at their disposal, all against one shinobi. But the man they surrounded was different than the others they had faced. Some of them, deep down at the core of their rotten hearts, could feel that. The man with the red-mane was anything but vanilla.

This is the first squad of two, a troop of armed and hired thugs sent to deal with the half-masked Jounin, while the other team and their commander-in-battle headed for the Raikage tower to deal some damage. The fact of the matter was, however, that they were screwed. Trapped inside Kumogakure no Sato, after a botched infiltration and invasion attempt, they had nowhere else to go. The Jounin had simply been the first shinobi on the scene, and the one that had exposed their devious, yet poorly constructed plan.

Standing before them, without an ounce of fear in his heart, the emerald-eyed male sported a toothy smile. He was going to kick these guys asses, and then deal with their cowardly comrades thereafter, to ensure that not a ounce of Kumogakurian blood was spilled at their hand. He had unofficially taken responsibility for dispatching these assholes, and though he knew he'd be rewarded for it by the mission compound, he was doing it more for the pleasure. The adrenaline in his veins cried out, ready to crack some heads.

His posture was relaxed and unruffled, his eyes growing bored with their incessant staring. "Well... aren't you fools going to swoop in for the attack?" He asked, clearly displeased with their idle movements. "Or shall I do the honors?" Immediately, this ticked off some of the thugs in the group that surrounded him. They didn't like being threatened, much less mocked, and it showed on their ugly mugs. So, with fierce battle cries, the majority of them lunged forward with their weapons and assaulted.

[Estilo]

Chief of Battle [2]

---

The spearman lunged forward first. A man of Chinese descent, sporting a long black pony-tail and flowing green robes, carried his spear with such precision and ferocity that his battle-cry nearly shattered the Jounin's sense of calm. But, despite this aggressive take on the assault, the shinobi of Kumogakure no Sato didn't hesitate to evade the attack. The spear swiftly stabbed forward, aiming for the man's gut, but the red-maned individual in question took a quick side-step, reached for a kunai in his satchel simultaneously, and released his projectile without an ounce of mercy.

The spearman, however, had a quick sense of reaction. He, too, took a side-step- narrowly missing the thrown weapon, but faltering in his counter-attack. The half-masked male took swift advantage of this split-second moment of weakness, darting forwards with such speed that he was out of the spear's range in no time. Before the rather large spearman could react, a gloved fist punched his nose with such power that he was forced to stumble backwards in agony. He cursed, in a language the shinobi did not understand. But, despite his pain, kicked himself back into gear.

He blocked the red-maned man's next punch by pushing back his arm with the wooden length of the spear, catching the shinobi off guard and managing to land a forceful kick to the gut. The action put a couple of meters between them, and the Jounin decided that this guy was kind of pissing him off. He should have been dispatched seconds ago, but for some reason... he felt that this wasn't some ordinary hired thug. He must have been a warrior, once. So he would treat him as such- with respect.

Issuing a series of hand seals, a flurry of fingers forming the symbols necessary to channel his power into an electric reality, the shinobi of Kumogakure no Sato would hasten his next offensive attack as the spearman came charging in again. It was unavoidable, that he'd go for this lunge after having seen the half-masked male perform hand seals, and the fear of an oncoming technique showed in his eyes. But the speed of the shinobi's hands vastly exceeded the speed of the spearman's feet. Though the hired warrior tried to use the length of the spear to his advantage, in order to cover the ground between them, it was far too late.

[Estilo]

Chief of Battle [3]

---

An electric tiger spawned from the red-maned man's body, roaring with blue sparks and horrifying thunder. It manifested in front of said individual as fast as lightning struck, enveloping the spear that was inches away from gutting the shinobi, and transferring a horrible shock throughout its length. This, in turn, would transfer hundreds of volts to the warrior on the other end of the elongated weapon. The man yelled in pain, dropping his weapon and crying out to the sky above, his hands curling into fists as his veins pumped up with the agony. The spearman had finally, and quite brutally, been dealt with.

As the Jounin's lightning lion continued to keep the other warriors at bay, making sure that none of them tried anything in unison that would otherwise condemn the Jounin to an immediate injury (or even death), the red-maned man would focus on the few thugs that hadn't been covered. One of them was in his sights, a young man with golden hair who carried a cross bow. This kid, only about in his early twenties, tried to aim his weapon at the shinobi with shaky hands. But he was obviously having trouble.

"Stop this," The Jounin would begin. "It's unnecessary, kid. And doing this kind of thing would only condemn you to a life of being hunted down," Not that you could kill me, even if you tried. "So I suggest you just put that down, slowly, and give yourself up. Things will turn out much, much better that way. Just trust me." He looked into the young man's gray eyes, seeing fear and uncertainty. "Don't do this, son."

But it was obvious that he would. So the half-masked male prepared for the oncoming assault accordingly. He ducked and swerved out of the way as an arrow came his way- cutting through the air and stabbing at the dirt ground behind him. Simultaneously (he was getting quite used to these narrow escapes and quick counters), he reached into his satchel once more and retrieved yet another kunai. This one struck the young man's hand.