#I'm sorry I'm hype for some jhinteractions

[perfect-fourth]

@simpingforshauna

𝄆 Daybreak.

Getting across the Navori region would have typically taken him much longer, but there were a lot of benefits in playing the role he’d adapted since his return to Ionia. Jun Lee, as he was known to his new acquaintances, was really a rather unimposing figure despite his flair for drama.  Just a placid middle aged gentleman with an air of hospitality and many fruitful hobbies, be them cooking, gardening, or fishing; the latter of which was what had brought him there in the first place.  

It was quite convenient that the young woman had skill in teleportation magics, and he did have every intention of actually taking her fishing on their trip to the south.  The truth of that was what had made it so easy to sound authentic in his convictions; though he knew he had ulterior motives for the specific place he’d picked.  Keeping her out of his business would likely be the most difficult part, but she was not immune to the pitfalls of being human-- she’d have to sleep eventually.  He trusted his own ability to distract her otherwise, and worse case, well.  The satchel of assorted toxins and drugs he’d collected while in Zaun would be more than enough to aid him in keeping her away when he needed to work more privately.  

Though he’d been planning to pop in on the ninja well before he’d ever returned to Ionia, his decision to do so now had been more an act of feeling than it was of logic or necessity, and one that he would follow without hesitation.  He’d been through a lot those previous few weeks, and while the resulting angst was vexing at best, he would never let the opportunity to use his despair for his art go to waste.  It was the only way to create.

  He had been meticulously collecting every bit of recent intel on the man and his pupils that he could for...years now, but it wasn’t necessarily the most ideal of times or circumstances to go toe-to-toe with him.  It was all well and good, though-- this wasn’t a performance so much as it was a rehearsal, as well as an invitation.  He’d been leaving traces of his ghastly craft across the coast for the last 2 or 3 months, and still he had yet to cross paths with either of his two supreme adversaries.  The mask of sanity he wore was fantastic, but he didn’t think he was that difficult to track down, had they been paying attention.  He hated when his work went unappreciated.

When they’d arrived that evening, he took the girl out to the lake for a few hours, though they’d only managed to get a few measly bites.  Certainly nothing worth keeping, and a disheartening prospect that gave him the excuse to retire early at a local inn he’d rented out for them.  He bought them each their own separate rooms for the sake of privacy.  He was very picky when it came to who he shared a bedroom with, for reasons that had nothing to do with murder.

He knew for a fact that the shadow master was set to return the following day after a rendezvous with some of his peers; the details of which he had difficulty discerning, though the information was enough for him to calculate his own actions accordingly. Luring his students out that morning had taken some patience and caution; as well as flawless timing on his behalf.  At 4 that morning he meandered to the their temple in the guise of a weary, elderly traveler, a feat achieved with his impeccable makeup artistry as well as some realistic touches made by way of illusion magics.  A most unintimidating look, that made it easy to approach without being immediately shot down by the ever vigilant members of the Shadow Order, though hesitations on their behalf weren’t unanticipated.  He persuaded a handful of the younger member’s in Zed’s entourage to come out to the road where he'd left his cart; one wheel splintered and spun off the hinge.  It was expected that at least a few of them would have the heart to help an old man in need when his tired bones and sore back were too much to handle fixing the wagon himself.

Five of them volunteered themselves, sleepy-eyed but charitable, save for one very grumpy elder member to their order who had insisted on joining them.  It was the older one who Jhin had his reservations about, they’d clearly come for the soul reason of making sure nothing foul was afoot-- and something foul was very much afoot.  He made sure to try and deviate their suspicions as much as possible on the stretch back out to the roads; a very particular road he’d picked to perform on because it was the only road back to the Temple of Thanjuul.  Zed would have no way to avoid his invitation on his way back home; unless of course he decided to cross through the forests before reaching the end of the path.  Knowing him, he would unintentionally ruin his art instillation by taking the non-road less travelled.  But he would still end up knowing about it by the time he returned, even if he didn’t see it with his own two eyes first.  He wasn’t going to kill all five of those who sought to aid him.  He would leave one alive; not because he didn’t want to kill as many of Zed’s disciples as possible, but because the math didn’t add up.  It had to be 4, or otherwise 8, 12, 16... He’d have had to go back to the temple to make that happen, and that was a risk that was a bit too dangerous to be taking without the proper precautions.

A risk that he would unfortunately end up having to take.

The four Yanléi went down without a problem, just as he’d expected-- not by way of bullet, but by way of blade.  He’d decided a return to his roots was in order for this performance; the sheer force of the magic that his more extravagant weapons put off was too noticeable; and too loud at that, and aside, he felt like being more physical for this performance.  Of course, he did have Whisper, just in case-- but it felt good to take down the poor unexpecting students, one, then the next, it was a little bit too easy.  He was just happy he still retained most of his abilities in hand-to-hand; though in fairness, they were all still drunk on sleep.  It might have been a touch one sided, but he didn’t care.

By the time he’d slit the throats of the first two, the third and fourth were well aware of what was going on, as was the older acolyte who joined the younger pair in a three to one assault.  It was that one who he was worried about, and rightfully so-- Jhin could handle some lesser members of the Shadow Order in close combat, but the higher up into the Order they were the greater his chances of being absolutely demolished (at least without distance, and guns).  They had much more experience in their craft, after all, more access to the shadow magic they were known for-- Jhin was far from the worst martial artist in the world, but compared to the more prominent members of the Shadow Order, and Zed himself?  He hated to admit it, but he didn’t stand a chance.

He’d taken down one more of the other’s before he was compromised by way of a knife to the back of his shoulder, a hiss of pain echoing from his lungs.  That would be fun to deal with later, but it was something he kept out of his mind for the time being as he retaliated by spinning round to bury one of his own blades directly into the acolytes’ gut, his motions like a dance.  The magic that enchanted the weapon brought with it a flourish of colorful foliage and light, and Jhin took the opportunity to finish them off while they tried to process what had just happened to them.  He couldn’t help but to smile as he watched the realization enter their eyes, they knew who he was, but there was nothing that could be done, now.  A wrenching of the blade inside their stomach brought with it a new plume of illusionary beauty; their stomach ripped open to let it all out.

When he’d rounded on the last of the Shadow Master’s students, he expected the terrified boy to understand that he had no chance of surviving without his superior.  He expected he’d run to tell the others; that was the plan, and he even told him he was free to go as he lowered his own weapon, stretching his limbs and cracking his neck now that he had no need to feign the appearance of an aging merchant.

“Go,” he whispered, his eyes alight with sadistic jubilation.   

“Warn the others.”

He told the youth, his gaze cast to the bodies he’d left around them, and soon turning away entirely.  He had to finish setting the scene, after all; and the faster the fifth acolyte left, the more time he had to work.  He really shouldn’t have underestimated the honor of one of Zed’s own, though-- he’d barely had time to react when he came barreling at him from behind, screaming, prepared to take him down.  But he did react, on instinct, mostly -- which meant that the swift stab he delivered into the poor thing’s throat was a fatal one.

The regret set in almost instantly, and as the last of the Yanléi fell to his knees with a burning hatred in his gaze, Jhin couldn’t help but to curse out loud-- something he very rarely did.  Despite being the one to have administered the blow, Jhin found himself shambling to his own knees to grab the fallen protégé and collect him in his arms, desperately trying to mend the wound in his throat with whatever bit of fabric he could find.  Jhin knew the basics of first aid, but a healer he was not, and though he’d wanted to help(for his own compulsive and selfish reasons, but still) the boy made every attempt to try and fight him off and hurt him, even as he bled out.  He had to give him points for that.

“No, stop-- stop that, let me help you!” he hissed at him, his voice tainted by desperation and the slightest hint of fear.  That fear would grow tenfold by the time the young man’s eyes went cloudy and distant, the last remaining light of life slipping away with the blood that now stained the artist in the most unbecoming of ways.  He kept his hold of him until he was certain he was dead; and even after the fact.  His only options now were to settle on five deaths, or otherwise return to the temple and take out at least three more of the ninja’s disciples.  So, there really weren’t any options.  Not many other people came out this way; he couldn’t kill any civilians to add to his body count when there were none nearby.  He dropped the corpse he held with a thud, suddenly reminded of the throbbing pain in the back of his shoulder.

“...Damn it.”