That Day When Suzuki-kun Wasn't the Mob-B!

”There.”

”Okay.”

The target was clear. Yugao didn’t waste a single second. Drawing her blade, she moved like a phantom. Her form-fitting Anbu uniform blurred as she dashed forward with minimal noise, her lethal grace captivating yet terrifying. By the time the bandits realized the danger descending upon them, it was already too late.

Heads were cleanly severed, and blood sprayed into the dirt. No one could even slow her down.

”Hmm...”

Suzuki watched the one-sided massacre without much surprise. He had long realized that a majority of the people in the ninja world had a different common sense from his previous world. Killing was normal; it was a job in itself, and many would even be happy, or paid to watch how those violent acts were performed, which made him sigh, realizing that he wasn’t so used to this world as he had thought it would be.

Being a ninja is troublesome, yet it was a path that he had walked into, and he could only press forward if he wanted to arrive at the life that he wished to.

Still, Yugao was undeniably strong. There was no need for flashy, destructive jutsu; just a single, beautiful blade slicing through anything in her path. Yet, Suzuki knew this wasn’t even close to her full strength.

Her technique isn’t bad at all, he mused. She hadn’t appeared much in the original story, so he hadn’t been entirely sure of her baseline strength. But as she showcased her elegant swordsmanship, he quietly used his Manager ability to analyze and copy every movement.

”Sorry to make you wait,” Yugao said, stepping back, her chest heaving slightly from the exertion.

”No, I’m the one who made you do all the heavy lifting. I should have helped.”

”It’s fine. It’s my duty to guard you, after all.”

It was true. Sarutobi had explicitly assigned her to protect Suzuki. He was young, and while he kept a low profile by sticking to D and C-rank missions, being the Hokage’s disciple came with hidden dangers. If an enemy village or rogue faction managed to capture the Hokage’s student, the political fallout would be disastrous.

However, that didn’t mean Suzuki planned to scurry through the gutters like a rat hiding from the light. He wasn’t Danzo. He didn’t even plan to be a ninja forever. To achieve his true goals, he needed to operate in the light, not cower in the shadows.

”So, what do you think?” Yugao suddenly asked, her voice snapping him out of his thoughts.

”What do you mean?” Suzuki blinked, genuinely confused.

”I mean... about the killing I just did.”

Suzuki remained silent.

What did he think? Honestly, he thought it was a massive waste. Instead of killing these criminals, he usually captured them. Funneling them into merchant logistics networks or utilizing them for manual labor in mining camps turned them into high-yield assets. If Suzuki just killed them, they only became nutrients for the soil. Sure, fertilizer was nice, but it held zero economic value. Forcing them to work, however, turned them into a sustainable cash cow right up until they dropped.

Plus, keeping them alive allowed him to maintain a benevolent public image—killing three birds with one stone.

But he knew that logic wouldn’t sit well with the common sense of the ninja.

”It’s fine,” Suzuki finally replied, keeping his true thoughts hidden. Even Sarutobi didn’t know the full extent of his operations. ”We’re ninjas. It’s the job. But personally, if I’m not getting paid for it, I prefer not to do it.”

”Here.”

”What?”

Suzuki stared at Yugao strangely as she suddenly reversed her grip and offered him her bloodstained blade.

”Take this and kill the rest.”

She hadn’t wiped them all out. A few terrified bandits were still alive, cowering in the dirt, and she was explicitly asking him to finish them off.

”Seriously?” Suzuki narrowed his eyes. His expression shifted—not to fear or disbelief, but to profound displeasure. While this reaction of his might appear arrogant, from their position, he was like a CEO being ordered around by a junior employee.

How could that be?

Yugao was an Anbu, after all, but Suzuki was the disciple of the Hokage. While he might not be Yugao’s boss, with his position, she shouldn’t try to order him around, especially to kill others, as her job was to protect him.

In other words, she should know her place.

Yugao gulped, a bead of sweat tracing down her neck as she felt his sudden, oppressive aura. Yet, she insisted. ”H-Hokage-sama ordered me to have you do this.”

”Sensei did?” Suzuki was surprised.

”Yes.” Yugao took a deep breath, forcing her racing heart to calm. Deep down, she was starting to understand exactly why Sarutobi had chosen this boy as his disciple. ”I know it might be unpleasant, but Hokage-sama is worried about you. You always avoid taking a life, and he thought...”

”He thinks I’m too soft?”

Yugao didn’t answer, but her silence spoke volumes.

Even Hinata—the kindest, softest girl he knew, a sheltered princess of the Hyuga Clan—had taken lives on missions. How could Suzuki think he could escape the ultimate rite of passage required of all shinobi?

It was true; Suzuki had never killed. During his C-rank missions, he simply captured the bandits, stripped them of their wealth, and sold them to the very merchants who had hired his team in the first place. He was earning income from three separate sources on a single mission. While technically legal in this world, his refusal to execute enemies was viewed by traditionalists as a fatal weakness.

Sarutobi doted on him, but he refused to let his student remain naive. In the ninja world, ruthlessness was a requirement for survival.

Suzuki sighed inwardly, but he knew that he couldn’t talk back. ”Give it to me.”

”Yes.”

Yugao immediately submitted, lowering her head as she handed over the weapon. Suzuki hardly noticed her sudden deference; his mood had soured completely.

How could he be happy about being forced to do something so wasteful? Sure, these men were scum. Death was probably a mercy for them—a quick escape to the afterlife where they wouldn’t have to compensate the people they had harmed.

But Suzuki knew he lacked the overwhelming strength to defy the system just yet, and he certainly didn’t want to lose Hiruzen’s goodwill over a handful of bandits.

”Wind Release: Background Noise.”

The moment the words left his lips, Suzuki simply... vanished from perception.

Yugao gasped.

His elemental affinity, alongside fire, was wind. Using his Manager, he had developed a unique, terrifying jutsu: Wind Release: Background Noise.

He didn’t turn invisible like a standard optical illusion. Instead, he completely scrambled his presence. Ninja tracked targets via scent, sound, body heat, and chakra density. This jutsu created a chaotic, microscopic wind current—a localized micro-storm—tightly wrapped around his body. The turbulence instantly scattered his pheromones in all directions, rendering his scent untraceable. The rapid wind continuously mixed his body heat with the ambient cold air, blinding thermal tracking. Finally, he diluted his chakra signature into the surrounding breeze.

The result? Suzuki became a sensory void. To the human brain, he registered as ”empty space”—a piece of background noise that the subconscious mind naturally ignores.

When he casually walked up to the remaining bandits and swung the blade, they didn’t even react. They were cut down, beheaded, or sliced in half without ever perceiving the boy standing right in front of them.

Despite the gruesome slaughter, it was eerily silent. Aside from the sudden, shrieking wails of the dying men, Suzuki made no sound at all. It was like a scene from a horror movie where an invisible ghost systematically dismantled its victims.

”NOO!!!”

”WHERE IS HE?! WHERE IS HE?!”

”DON’T KILL ME! I BEG YOU! PLEASE!”

Despite the horrifying screams, Yugao stood completely frozen. Cold sweat drenched her back, clinging the Anbu uniform to her skin. She didn’t blink. Even with her elite training, she couldn’t pinpoint Suzuki’s location.

”Did you watch closely?”

His voice suddenly echoed right beside her ear, just as the final scream gurgled into silence.

”Yes, Suzuki-sama,” she gasped, instinctively using a title of deep reverence.

”There is no need for the ’-sama’ suffix.”

”Yes, Suzuki-kun.”

Yugao bowed deeply, her chest heaving, not daring to meet his eyes. She hadn’t even noticed he was standing right in front of her until his blood-splattered sandals materialized in her vision.

”Let’s go. I want to rest.”

”Right away.”

As Suzuki walked off, Yugao followed obediently, trailing behind a boy who left a massacre so gruesome it would make a hardened veteran empty their stomach.