The man in question, known to others as Genma, a simple but deadly tokubetsu jonin to the civilians inside the village--but to a few others, one of the best Hunter-nins that the Bloody Mist has to offer. He had just finished dissecting and cremating the remains of a rogue Mist-nin, who had attempted to steal information to sell off to a rival village, the head secured tightly inside a sack attached to his belt.
The hunter-nin watched as the body was completely burned and ashes started to scatter from the wind. Genma wouldn’t leave just yet, he only stayed long enough to make sure that the ashes dispersed and maybe, by some twisted point of view, he wanted to pay his respects.
It takes guts to attempt what the man had done, especially since it involved one of the more bloodthirsty villages in the entire world. Sure, the man had betrayed his oath to the Hidden Mist, but Genma had to give the man his due for surviving this long against him.
His thoughts were disturbed when something prickled at the back of his neck, his service as a Hunter-nin have honed his instincts right down to a T. Usually whenever it perked up like now, Genma knew that something was going to happen.
He just wasn’t sure what yet.