Kamihara Hayato sat on the couch with a grim face, staring at Ryosuke sitting across from him.
"You really had to..."
He spread out both hands, gesturing first toward the room's dim red lighting, then toward the lavish bed behind him.
Kamihara Hayato's voice came out through clenched teeth, filled with frustration.
"You really had to come find me now, of all times?"
He sighed after saying that.
Kamihara knew full well, if it wasn't for something serious, Ryosuke wouldn't come knocking in the middle of the night for no reason.
Compared to whatever Ryosuke was worried about, the little "problem" in Kamihara's pants was hardly worth mentioning.
When Ryosuke pulled out the late-night snacks he'd picked up on the way, the last of Kamihara's irritation vanished. He grabbed a skewer of grilled chicken and took a bite.
"What is it this time?"
"Killing someone."
Kamihara paused mid-bite. "Back to your old trade?"
Ryosuke nodded.
"Yeah. My old trade."
The so-called "old trade," naturally, meant bounty hunting.
"But… why?"
Kamihara didn't get it. In the past, Ryosuke hunted criminals and rogue ninja for money. But for the Ryosuke now, money had long since lost its meaning.
Ryosuke didn't explain. He only asked, "Got anyone in mind? Doesn't matter how strong. As long as you know where they are, somewhere easy to reach… I don't want to waste time looking for people."
"Hold on."
Kamihara reached into his bag and pulled out a palm-sized notebook, handing it to Ryosuke.
Inside were countless unfamiliar names, each followed by a profile, their specialty jutsu, and current location.
Most were scattered along the borders of the Fire, Earth, and Lightning countries.
"Feudal lords' armies?" Ryosuke asked.
"Exactly."
Kamihara explained, "Most of your usual targets, criminals, fugitives, rogue ninja, are all people who'll do anything for money or power."
"Those feudal lords and their wealthy sponsors are throwing money around to keep their control."
"Pretty much everyone you'd want dead has already gathered along the borders of the three great nations."
"They're just waiting for the daimyō's signal, to set sail, cross the sea, and come attack you."
Finishing his skewer, Kamihara dipped the bamboo stick into his tea, and on the table, drew a rough map of the ninja world, marking where the armies were massing.
He looked up seriously. "Ryosuke, I know you're strong. But even the best fists can't beat four hands."
It had been over ten years since the Third Great Ninja War. Each country had spent that time quietly regaining strength.
No one knew how many hidden geniuses had been training in the shadows all those years.
One-on-one, maybe they weren't Ryosuke's match, but numbers could overwhelm anyone.
And besides, ninjutsu was unpredictable. If he ran into someone who used illusion or soul-type techniques, one slip could mean life or death.
Seeing the concern in Kamihara's eyes, Ryosuke smiled and nodded. "You're right."
"So you're not going?"
"No, I'm still going. Just… in a different way."
"What way?" Kamihara asked.
Ryosuke snapped his fingers.
Suddenly, Kamihara's vision blurred, and Ryosuke's appearance shifted into that of Momochi Zabuza.
It wasn't the crude Transformation Technique. Kamihara was a professional in intelligence, he could usually tell the real from the fake just by small details.
But Ryosuke's imitation was flawless. From his gaze, to his breathing, even down to his subtle mannerisms, it was Zabuza.
Only when "Zabuza" finally spoke did Kamihara pick up on the faint tonal difference and realize it was Ryosuke in disguise.
It was the illusion ability of the White Snake.
In the original story, the priest used the same trick to disguise himself as the Weather Report and wipe out the protagonist trio, seizing the Green Baby, that's what eventually led to New Moon and Made in Heaven.
Unlike ninja illusion techniques, this power made the target's brain automatically "fill in" what it expected to see, correcting inconsistencies on its own.
As long as Ryosuke didn't speak or act strangely, no one would ever notice him among a crowd. Of course, it wouldn't work on illusion masters like Uchiha Itachi.
But against ordinary fugitives? Easy pickings.
Ryosuke snapped his fingers again. The White Snake's illusion faded, and he returned to his usual appearance.
After listening to Ryosuke's plan, Kamihara's eyes lit up instantly.
"So that means you can walk straight into the enemy camp in broad daylight, kill whoever you want, and gather intel however you please?"
Ryosuke nodded.
Kamihara's mind spun with possibilities. The importance of intel in war was undeniable. If Ryosuke could infiltrate the enemy's plans ahead of time, they could prevent countless casualties.
He grabbed a pen and paper, jotting down every idea that came to mind. Ryosuke told him several times he was leaving, but Kamihara didn't even hear him, scribbling furiously.
Shaking his head, Ryosuke opened the window and flew out.
When Kamihara finally looked up, the room was already empty, just a slowly spinning chair and a gently swaying curtain.
Ryosuke was gone.
Before leaving, he'd taken the notebook with the list of names. He'd start from the top and check them off one by one.
"Left in a hurry, huh."
Kamihara put down his pen and looked out toward the quiet streets of the Hidden Mist Village.
"By the time you come back, the war will probably have begun."
Knock! Knock! Knock!
A knock came at the door.
A short-haired woman with a round face, pale skin, and big eyes opened it just a crack.
She was dressed simply, in loose clothes, but her full chest made her shirt bulge noticeably.
She asked timidly, "do you still want me to come in and serve you?"
Still clutching the notes he'd just written, Kamihara had no mood for that anymore. He waved a hand.
"No need."
He was itching to run straight back to the intelligence division and get to work.
"Tch!"
The short-haired woman rolled her eyes. Gone was her earlier sweetness. She flicked out a cigarette with practiced ease, about to wave him off impatiently when he said, "Don't worry, I'll still pay you."
"Oh! What are you talking about, money and all that… That's not what I meant. I was going to help you get dressed…"
She tossed away the cigarette, her voice turning syrupy sweet again as she fussed over him, calling him "big brother" this and "big brother" that. She helped Kamihara into his clothes and personally escorted him to the elevator.
Only when the elevator doors closed.
———
Ding!
The elevator opened.
Watanabe stepped out, carrying a briefcase, and walked to the door of the Hokage's office. He knocked lightly.
After a short pause, a tired female voice came from inside.
"Come in."
It was three in the morning. Tsunade was still working.
Unlike Mei Terumi, who'd long since collapsed from exhaustion, Tsunade, trained in medical ninjutsu and bearing the Strength of a Hundred Seal, recovered both physically and mentally almost as quickly as Ryosuke.
Sleep wasn't really a necessity for her.
Watanabe pushed the door open and entered.
He gave Tsunade a slight bow, showing basic respect to the Hokage.
Tsunade remained seated, her sharp eyes sweeping across the family crest on his chest, the emblem of the Fire Country's daimyō.
"So, it's finally come to this," she thought, her expression tightening.
Watanabe pulled out a chair and sat across from her, polite in demeanor but with an unmistakable air of arrogance and authority.
"Lady Tsunade," he said, "I'm here to deliver the Fire Country daimyō's orders."
"The daimyō requires that within one week, you gather your shinobi and prepare to…"
"…hunt down Ryosuke."
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