Event Sunagakure Presents: Two Kings Part 3 - Mercenaries are Mandatory?!

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The evening light of Sunagakure's artificial sun painted the Kazekage's office in shades of amber and gold, the carmot-powered star beginning its programmed descent toward the western edge of the dome. Shin stood at his window, hands clasped behind his back, watching the city below settle into the rhythm of evening, merchants closing their stalls, families returning home, the last training sessions wrapping up at the academy grounds.

But his mind was elsewhere. On the dune trails. On whispered reports from informants. On families that disappeared without a trace.

He turned from the window and moved to his desk, where four sealed scrolls waited—each bearing the crimson wax seal of the Kazekage's office. Unlike the gentle chakra-finches he'd sent to summon the genin team just this morning, these messages required something more… deliberate. More respectful of the recipients' positions.

Shin raised both hands, and chakra gathered at his fingertips, not golden and warm like his usual manifestations, but silver and cool. Four desert hawks materialized before him, larger and more formidable than finches, their eyes sharp and intelligent. These were messengers for professionals, not students.

He attached a scroll to each hawk's leg with careful movements.

"Find them," Shin said quietly, his luminous blue eyes meeting each bird's gaze in turn. "The automaton named Sekuro. Miroku Kureji. Masaru Yuuto. And Rakujo Reika,. Deliver these personally. Wait for acknowledgment if they're willing to receive it. If not, return to me immediately."

The hawks lifted off through the open window one by one, disappearing into the twilight with silent wingbeats.

Shin watched them go, then turned his attention to preparing the office. This meeting would be different from the one with the genin this morning. There would be no tea ceremony, no carefully arranged refreshments to ease nerves. Mercenaries and missing-nin didn't need their hands held. What they needed was respect, clarity, and—most importantly—fair compensation.

He moved to the sitting area and adjusted it slightly, ensuring there were enough seats but maintaining a professional distance. On the low table, he placed a single decanter of water and several glasses. Simple. Unpretentious. A gesture of hospitality without condescension.

From his desk, he retrieved four thicker folders—dossiers compiled not from academy records, but from intelligence reports, sightings, reputation assessments. He knew enough about each of these shinobi to understand they wouldn't appreciate false familiarity or platitudes. They were professionals. They deserved to be treated as such.

Shin moved to his plant collection and began his evening watering routine, the meditative rhythm helping him organize his thoughts. The mission he was about to propose was dangerous, morally complex, and required people who could operate in the grey spaces where village shinobi couldn't tread. Mercenaries and missing-nin existed in those spaces. It was why he needed them.

The Yurei Orchids received their light misting. The succulents got their careful drops. The bonsai required more attention—a new branch needed adjustment, the wire repositioned to guide its growth without strangling it.

`Much like this situation,` Shin thought. `Guide without controlling. Request without demanding. Compensate fairly without insulting.`

He set down the watering can and washed his hands, drying them on a clean cloth as he returned to his desk. The folders lay waiting. He didn't open them, he'd memorized their contents already. Instead, he focused on the sealed document that would be presented once they all arrived: the mission parameters.


The sun continued its descent outside, the office growing dimmer as evening settled in. Shin snapped his fingers, and small flames appeared in the lanterns around the room—not the harsh brightness of carmot light, but the warm, flickering glow of controlled fire. It created an atmosphere of intimacy without vulnerability, professionalism without coldness.

He settled into his chair behind the desk, folding his hands in his lap, and waited.

Somewhere out there, four hawks were delivering his message. Somewhere out there, four individuals were reading his summons and deciding whether to answer.

Shin had gambled on their professionalism, their skills, and their loyalty to payments. Whether that gamble would pay off remained to be seen.

But if even half of them arrived, if even half agreed to take the mission, it would be worth it. Because the alternative—sending village shinobi into a situation that required operating outside official channels, that required the kind of moral flexibility that missing-nin possessed—would put his own people at risk in ways he couldn't accept.

The Kazekage waited, bathed in lantern light, surrounded by living things he'd tended with his own hands, and prepared to make a deal with devils… because sometimes, devils were the only ones who could walk through hell and come back with the truth.

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OOC: This is an open invitation for Sekuro, Masaru Yuuto, Kureji, and Rakujo Reika to join this thread. Feel free to enter at your convenience—together or separately, in any order. No strict posting requirements. This is a mission briefing that will lead into a surveillance/intelligence gathering operation regarding the Baron Twins' alleged human trafficking operations.

Fully charged, his system let out a low -ding- to signify as much.

-Peck peck peck-

The light but firm tapping of a sharp, hard object against his puppet panels alerted his system enough to begin his startup phase.

The cyborg had been roaming the mobile village of Sand for just over a day before managing to find a quiet and secluded slum to recharge in. The chaos of the village's previous attack was still apparent, however, Sekuro had his own issues. He would still need to take care of his voice box issue; however, he would be able to communicate with his external upgrade, Pandora over the interim.

Sekuro's sensors identified the hawk, pecking at him with a letter attached. Its chakra held traces of the Kazekage, so it did not immediately trigger a threat response.

Waking up in a ruined building, sleeping among the rubble and destruction of a fallen building, Sekuro read the letter.

He was being invited.

A nod in the direction of the hawk after reading the letter was all the acknowledgment it needed. A moment later it was flapping its way out of the run-down stone building.

Sekuro was unsure of where the Primus Tower was exactly, however, he would have no issue locating the Kazekage after having recorded a snapshot of him during their last encounter, Sekuro was currently able to locate the man nearly anywhere within the country.

He'd use this ability to fly directly towards the set meeting location.

Running his Symbiosis processes, Sekuro had once more shifted into his Flight Panels (Wind Valk), allowing him to propel himself in the air with his chakra propulsors, the Kazekage was only a short flight away, and it would swiftly become apparent which building was the Primus Tower.

Arriving through an open windo, the cyborg would land, reverting his chakra propulsors back into feet and hands as he made contact with the floor of the office.

Surrounded by plants was the man he'd recently crossed fists with.

The Kazekage.

Still without proper speaking equipment, Sekuro would allow Pandora to speak for him.

A short burst of white noise would fill the room temporarily, followed swiftly by silence. Without appearing, the voice of a child would be heard next.

Invitation received. Presence request acknowledged.

Between the two were several folders and documents, along with a container of water and several cups.

It would seem he was not the only one invited to this party.

[mft]
400+

The scratch of charcoal against paper was the only sound she allowed herself.

Reika sat cross-legged atop a low stone rise carved into the cavernous edge of the city, her sketchbook balanced on one knee as she worked. The way the lanternlight and mirrored crystals scattered along the walls caught the angles of the sandstone had drawn her here—soft illumination spilling across rough surfaces, shadows stretching and overlapping in ways that felt almost intentional. She wasn’t trying to capture every detail. Just the balance. The quiet geometry of the place.

A shadow passed over the page. She paused mid-stroke, red eyes lifting as a desert hawk descended from one of the upper ventilation shafts, wings folding neatly as it landed nearby. Its posture was alert but controlled. Reika closed the sketchbook without haste, sliding the charcoal into the fold before standing. She approached the hawk with her hands visible and accepted the scroll from its leg. The crimson seal told her enough.

She read the letter in silence, the ambient hum of the city carrying faintly through the stone beneath her feet. An invitation. Not a summons. Payment regardless of her answer. Her thumb traced the edge of the parchment once before sliding it into one of her pouches. “You can go back,” she said quietly. “I’ll hear him out.”

The hawk launched upward again, disappearing into the shadows above. Reika returned to the stone ledge and reopened her sketchbook. She added a single, darker line where the shadow had fallen moments before, then closed it again. Whatever calm the drawing had given her, she set it aside without lingering.

After a little while she arrived at Primus Tower without announcement. The office greeted her with lantern light and greenery, a space curated for conversation rather than control. Reika paused briefly at the threshold, took it in, then stepped inside. “Thanks for the invitation,” Reika said evenly as she entered, inclining her head once. She took one of the seats without waiting to be directed, posture relaxed but attentive. Four dossiers lay on the table between them. After a moment, she reached for one. She didn’t open it. Instead, she turned it in her hands, feeling the weight of it, the firmness of the binding, the density of the paper within. Her thumb rested along the edge of the cover, holding it closed. “I’ll read it,” Reika said calmly, eyes lifting back to Shin. “Just not yet.”

She set the dossier down beside her, untouched. She wasn't the only one who had been summoned, looking over at the other person besides her and Shin. Nodding towards him as her greeting towards him before resting her eyes back on Shin.

Kureji didn't really have much planned today. Heck, the past couple of days have been pretty busy for him. If anything, he was going to use this day to chillax and possibly just play some music to pass the time. He was inside of his hotel room as he played his guitar absentmindedly. How the few days that have passed have been full for him and even to some extent a lot.

First was Glowy Dude. He has it out for the Baron Twins cuz they attacked this Village. Kurjei himself had it out for them cuz of the trafficking operation that they are doing. They made a deal to focus on getting rid of these guys and saving the people turned slaves. Then there was Kyuji. She is an interesting person. Someone that had history with his father who wasn't exactly on good terms with Akkuma. Kureji had made a mental note of possible ally in them even though he spilled the beans to them that he is a missing ninja and that they seemed completely fine with it. Then comes Machoman. They had duked it out and ended in a stalemate. Kureji would laugh to himself, thinking of if the fight would have just went on forever. But why was his name Machoman and what does he mean that he talks to a Who? Then there was Brother. Okay, he doesn't know the man's name but he seems chill. Four arms and whatnot. It kinda just felt right calling him Brother. And finally there's Kohana. The rock star would smile faintly to himself just thinking about her. She just has that effect on him.

Whilst he was daydreaming, he heard a knock at the window to his hotel. He raised his eyebrows as he knew he was on the fifth floor. "Hm?" He opened the window for a hawk to fly in and land on his bed with a letter on its leg. He would cock his head to the side and instantly petted the hawk instead of grabbing the letter. After a few seconds of petting the hawk, he took the letter and read it. He doesn't remember who exactly Shin is, just that Kohana had talked about him a time or two, calling him the current Kazekage. But the only one he was aware of was Glowy Dude. Did he lie to Kureji and his name is actually Shin the whole time???

Either way, it seemed that he was needed for his expertise. He would laugh about it. The only real expertise Kureji has is that he causes chaos. But he also seen that the letter had named him Mirokou Kureji. He sighed. Yeah, he's still technically part of the clan since he never really denounced being part of it nor has he denounced being the son of Akkuma. Half of him didn't want to even show up just for that. But as he put his hands into his pockets he has been reminded that his own funds is running low. "Dammit. Well... If Glowy Dude is Shin, then I did tell him that I would go out and give those twin barons or whatever hell." He patted the hawk softly on its head and smiled at it as he would walk over to the window and waving at it before turning and walking out.

Gravity took hold of the missing ninja, but his fingers glided on the surface of the side of the building, chakra focused on his fingertips as he would slide down the side of the building like a badass. Going through the Kazekage tower, none of the guards really stopped him despite the aura of chaotic energies that he gives off, most likely orders to let him past to talk to the Kazekage. He would walk in to set his eyes on Glowy Dude. So he is Shin. The more you know. His eyes scanned around the room on two other people. One looked like a cool robot, just by first looks, he could see that there were fine details and time made for those details. As for the second person...

Kureji's face turned red as he would yell out, "AH!! AH!!! Umbrella lady!! Back!" The rock star would jump back. He would sit in the furthest seat away from her as he would look away from her. He would take a deep breath then say, "I'll work with ya. But don't get any weird ideas around me." He would not make eye contact but then looked over at the man or robot. "You look cool. Are you like all metal? Cuz that'd be so metal if you were." The second time he used the word metal would suggest that it would be used more as an expression rather than an item. He would lean back in his chair but make an effort to not look at Umbrella Lady.

(one edit made to fix spacing between two words)

The heavy sliding doors of the Kazekage’s office groaned open, admitting a pair that seemed to defy the very laws of nature.

First came the man. Yuuto walked with a heavy, measured gait, his four arms folded in pairs across his chest. His transformation had progressed significantly since his days in the Abyss. He was no longer the "regular" shinobi he had once been. Now, he was a living testament to Curse Life Sculpting, a nightmare of twisted biology and overwhelming presence.

Close at his heel was the beast.

The simian chimera, once a raging monster named Kento, followed with a newfound, eerie discipline. It moved with a predator's grace, though the visual was somewhat undercut by the heavy, reinforced armored pants Yuuto had spent the morning fitting onto the creature’s lower half.

Tennō, as he was now known, huffed a breath of hot air, his six eyes scanning the room with a mixture of curiosity and simmering instinct.

Yuuto stepped further into the amber-lit room, his gaze sweeping over the assembled group. He didn't offer a traditional bow. His relationship with Shin was built on a different kind of foundation.

"Sorry if we’re late," Yuuto said, his voice a gravelly rumble. "Took a bit of time to get the big guy into his new gear. He’s not exactly a fan of zippers."

He gestured vaguely to Tennō, who let out a low, vibrating grunt as if in agreement.

Yuuto’s eyes shifted, landing first on the figure of Sekuro. He paused, his brow furrowing slightly. He didn't recognize the man, but the craftsmanship was undeniable.

Another human puppet? He wondered if this was the new fashion in the world he’d been absent from for so long. It seemed like everyone was trading skin for steel and wood these days. Little did he know, he was looking at the very man he was supposed to be hunting. To Yuuto, this was just another stranger in a room full of them.

Oddly enough, for some reason Tennō stared at the Human Puppet with piqued interest. The corners of its simian lips spread to reveal a toothy smirk. Did the monkey .... know him?

Then, there was the woman. Reika. She looked like she belonged in a boardroom, not a battlefield, yet the way she held her dossier suggested a hidden edge. He made a mental note of her presence but didn't linger.

Finally, his eyes found the silver-haired rocker.

Kureji looked like he was vibrating in his seat, desperately trying to put as much distance as possible between himself and the "Umbrella Lady."

Yuuto felt a flicker of genuine amusement. He actually liked this airhead.

"Hey, Brother," Yuuto called out, a rough smirk playing on his lips. "You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or maybe just a girl. I thought you were supposed to be a rockstar?"

Without waiting for an answer, Yuuto moved toward the seating area. Seeing Kureji huddled at the far end of the table, Yuuto decided to help his "brother" out in his own way.

He nudged Tennō toward the space between Kureji and Reika. The massive, six-eyed beast climbed into the area with a heavy thud, its armored pants clanking against the floorboards. It sat down right next to Kureji, its large shoulder nearly brushing against the musician.

Yuuto, meanwhile, took the seat next to Reika. He sat with a casual, almost sprawling posture, his four arms finding places to rest on the table or his lap.

He looked around the room once more, taking in the full picture. The cyborg. The businesswoman. The chaotic musician. Himself and his tamed monster. They were a rag-tag collection of specialists. A group of individuals who existed on the fringes, discarded by polite society but possessed of the kind of lethal utility that a Kage apparently found necessary.

It was like a gathering of expendable tools, pulled from the bottom of the chest for a job too dirty for anyone else to touch.

What kind of hell did you find, Shin? Yuuto thought, his luminous eyes settling on the Kazekage. That you’d need a collection of devils like us to walk through it?

He leaned back, his eyes steady as he awaited the official briefing. "Well, I’m here for the compensation, but I’ll stay for the story," Yuuto said, addressing Shin directly.

Tennō let out another low rumble, his six eyes briefly fixating on the water decanter on the table before he looked back at Kureji, seemingly wondering if the rocker had any snacks.