Leaving.... like a bawss.

With the core essentials of his belongings stuffed carefully into hikers backpack, a string of wire carefully worn around his arm attached to the rear end of the single Kunai in his possession, the base of which was tactically placed within the folds of a crumpled yet obscenely destructive tag of explosion deceptively hidden within the spacious pocket space towards his right, the man set off towards the unknown, steps of crimson paving his path as the mutilated corpse of a once loyal shinobi lay mangled within a pool of his own blood. It was a good day. He was smiling. Nothing in particular amused him, yet he was smiling. Death would follow.

[Exit >>>>>]