After figuring things out, Moyu smiled slightly to hide his unease and finally exited the Hokage's office.
Stepping outside, he rolled his eyes. He truly despised this kind of political scheming that suffocated every breath. The more he thought about it, the more oppressive it felt.
Back home, Moyu found the two little devils playing in the yard. Their laughter filled the air, but it only deepened his frown.
"You still have the mind to play around? I was almost silenced out there today."
At his words, the two stopped instantly. Their expressions turned serious, eyes blazing with resolve. Whoever dared to attack Moyu, they would avenge him—no matter how long it took.
Moyu looked at the two, patting their heads with a faint smile. "It's not an issue, but I can sense someone moving against me. You two should train harder. If anything happens to me in the coming years, at least you'll have the strength to take my place."
The boys froze for a moment, then silently put down the three-colored balls in their hands. Determination replaced mischief—they wanted to protect Moyu one day.
While they resumed training, Moyu began cooking, yet halfway through he realized something was off. He frowned slightly. "I'm missing seasoning…"
His gaze shifted toward the window. The wind had grown sharp, the sky dark and heavy. Stepping outside now would be dangerous. The faint trace of killing intent lingering in the air only confirmed it.
Was he being watched again?
He stood still, brows furrowed, torn between caution and necessity. He needed that seasoning, but leaving the house could be a trap.
While he hesitated, the two little ones finished their drills and were ready to eat. Moyu straightened up, forcing calm into his tone. "Dinner isn't ready yet. I still need one last thing. You two, go take your baths."
The two nodded and ran off. Moyu picked up his old cloth bag and slipped into the night alone. The night market was still open—bright, crowded, noisy. Perfect cover.
He quickly bought the missing ingredients and some fresh vegetables and fruits. The moment the purchase was done, he turned back toward home without lingering. Every second outside pressed on his nerves.
He could feel it clearly now—someone was tracking his steps.
Still, Moyu moved steadily, refusing to show tension. When he turned into the alley near his home, a shadow shifted under the faint lamplight.
His hand froze midair. The night wind cut colder.
Someone was waiting for him.
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