"This world is sick. Infected by a disease called ’ninja’..." Nara Kazuki squinted at the man blocking the caravan’s path. His clothes were tattered, skin splotched and darkened, and he reeked of filth and rot.
He looked every bit the vagrant.
The man stood right in their way, holding what looked like a bowl—but was just a lump of dried mud.
Kazuki noticed how the nearby townspeople parted quietly when the vagrant approached. None stood near. Their eyes were alert, wary.
"Crazy old bastard, move along. Watch what you say this time, don’t make it like last time," muttered the caravan leader, frowning as he handed the vagrant a flatbread from inside his coat. His tone was urgent.
Saying stuff like that about ninja was asking for death.
Kazuki glanced toward Yamanaka Mai not far off. Her face was calm. Her caravan was the largest, with the most people and carts—obviously a major client. By contrast, Kazuki’s "family unit" barely counted as a group. They didn’t have much money.
"Sick... the world is sick... heehee~ Ninja will all die, hahaha! Hahahaha!"
The old lunatic cackled as he took the bread and shuffled off. People cleared a wide berth around him, and the caravan leader sighed like a man with a long story bottled up.
"Captain Shiraiwa, seems like you know that guy?" Kazuki edged closer.
Being in the caravan was boring, honestly. If not for the need to sneak into the Land of Earth under the radar—and prep a safe exit route—he wouldn’t have bothered with all this.
"Yeah. Everyone in this town knows him. Pitiful man. A madman too," Shiraiwa replied. He was chatty enough with someone who looked like an ordinary merchant.
"Oh? What’s his story?" Kazuki played along, tone light.
These days, conversation was an art. A good talker could make someone spill their soul without realizing it. A bad one? Dead silence in three lines.
Back in his old world, Kazuki had done sales gigs—those early-morning street shouts of "Charge! Yes! Go! Go! Go!" So yeah, he had some conversational chops.
"He was a wealthy merchant once," Shiraiwa began, sure enough. "Well-off, generous, respected. Then seven years ago, during a trade run, he was ambushed by ninja. The guards he hired weren’t strong enough. Lost everything."
"But it didn’t end there," he continued. "Those ninja followed him back, looted his house, raped his wife and ten-year-old daughter in front of him... then burned the place to the ground. He was the only one left alive."
Kazuki’s mouth twitched. Those had to be rogue-nin, right?
In most cases, only rogue-nin pulled this kind of shit. But it wasn’t impossible for shinobi from actual villages to commit atrocities. With how thin ninja walked the line between life and death, plenty snapped under the pressure.
Especially seven years ago. That would’ve been right after a Great Ninja War. There were a lot of cracked ninja running loose then.
But still—this was beyond cruel.
"Ever since then, he’s been mad," Shiraiwa said, voice low. "Keeps muttering that the world is diseased, that ninja are the virus. Last time, a Konoha ninja heard him say it and beat him senseless. Even people who defended him got hit. Now nobody dares talk to him."
Kazuki nodded in understanding.
No wonder everyone scattered when the old man appeared.
"Words like that... you can’t say them aloud," the caravan leader muttered with a sigh, as the caravan slowly approached the border with the Land of Earth. Kazuki returned to his wagon.
Shisui’s voice, still using his feminine disguise, trembled a little. His eyes were troubled. He’d never encountered something . He’d always been focused on missions and training.
"We don’t know who did it. But I doubt it’s rare," Kazuki said, closing his eyes.
This world’s system was rotten at the roots.
Shinobi wielded power beyond normal comprehension. Even a genin couldn’t be taken lightly by ordinary people. Becoming a ninja meant stepping beyond the realm of regular human beings.
Expecting every ninja to view civilians as equals?
That was like expecting a warlord’s son to suddenly crave tofu over steak.
It was only the daimyō and the Kage keeping the shinobi in check. Without them, the world would’ve collapsed into a hellscape long ago—ruled by ninja aristocrats bleeding the land dry.
Shisui fell silent. Itachi looked like he’d just been slapped by the world itself.
Kazuki had to chuckle. These two thought way too much.
But then, most shinobi had no solutions for things . Shisui and Itachi would be the same. Once they got into the Land of Earth, they wouldn’t have time to dwell on it.
Sure enough, once they handled their delivery and parted ways with the caravan, neither of them brought it up again. Kazuki led them toward Iwagakure at full speed.
"Captain, what’s the plan now?" Shisui asked as they ran.
"It’s simple. I asked the caravan leader how long it takes to reach the next city from our last stop. He said three days. So as long as we get our target to that city in three days, the mission’s risk drops significantly," Kazuki replied.
Shisui scratched his head.
"Why not just extract them directly?" Itachi asked.
"Depends. If they’re not exposed, we take them and go. If they are, then this gives us better odds of escaping," Kazuki explained.
What he didn’t say was this—he suspected Danzō was setting them up.
Because knowing Danzō, it wouldn’t be surprising if he orchestrated a trap, only to swoop in at the last second like a savior to win political points.