As the four of them were enjoying hotpot, Hanzo of Amegakure found himself facing a dilemma.
An intelligence report from Rain ninjas secretly stationed in Hot Water Country revealed signs of Kumogakure activity, prompting him to reconsider relations between these two parties.
"Are they genuine envoys or false ones? Seeking peace or declaring war?" These two questions gnawed at Hanzo's mind relentlessly.
If Kumogakure and Konoha went to war, logically speaking, to weaken Konoha's strength, Amegakure should side with Kumogakure.
However, their betrayal years ago made it impossible for Hanzo to feel any fondness toward these powerful nations.
Whether he should help Konoha or not became the root of his hesitation.
Ever since he saw that rail line crossing the desert that day, he'd believed befriending Konoha as a neighbor had become an urgent matter.
In the past, Hanzo confidently believed that in terms of ninja power alone, Amegakure could match its neighbors Konoha and Sunagakure. Even if those two teamed up, he believed they still had a fair chance of holding their own.
But after witnessing that magnificent rail line and learning about certain vehicles capable of flying at ten-thousand-meter altitudes, he lost all confidence in resisting the alliance between Konoha and Sunagakure.
Although he had complete faith in his own abilities, one individual alone couldn't possibly reverse an entire situation.
"Better we strike first than wait to be led like lambs to the slaughter," Hanzo thought. With Konoha's vigorous momentum, he was convinced they wouldn't overlook Amegakure.
The shinobi world followed the law of survival of the fittest — you don't simply forgive those who've wronged you. People who do either have saint-like compassion or simply aren't thinking clearly.
Considering Amegakure's disadvantaged position, Konoha seeking revenge becomes even more understandable.
This shows how significant proper communication can be.
Must Konoha necessarily seek vengeance against Amegakure?
Will Kumogakure definitely declare war on Konoha?
Does Amegakure really need to actively weaken Konoha to achieve a sense of security?
It's this chain of mutual distrust that truly hinders the world's progress. Shinko Otsutsuki thoroughly understands this principle.
Back at Uchiha Hotpot, Shen and Minato stared nervously at the two steaming pots bubbling vigorously on the table.
"Nayou."
"Kushina."
Two death glares forced both men to tightly shut their mouths.
"Shen, you'll eat with me."
"Minato, you'll eat with me."
"Hu." Two softly spoken sentences caused both individuals to tremble slightly as they picked up their chopsticks.
"Shen, make sure you finish everything," Nayou smiled gently while placing a dish of sliced meat into the pot.
Shen's eyes softened unexpectedly as he reached into the pot and grabbed a small piece of meat without even looking, immediately placing it directly into his mouth.
"So hot! So burning!" Internally crying out in anguish, Shen resolved determinedly that from now on he would quit eating hotpot forever.
Spiciness was a different kind of pain — one that even the most resilient shinobi, able to endure unbearable physical agony, often couldn't bear.
Even Minato Namikaze, future Golden Flash renowned throughout the shinobi world for his unsurpassed speed, after swallowing only a few slices, already had tears welling up in his eyes.
"This isn't something Ninja can endure."
Minato, who had eaten hot pot for the past two or three years, firmly believed that Nayou and Kushina, who were now eating nonstop, each hid a little monster beneath their beautiful exteriors.
In his heart, he declared not even a superhero like Ultraman could defeat these two little monsters.
Thus, with tears in his eyes, he silently kept throwing dish after dish into the pot.
More than half an hour later, the four—Minato, Nayou, Kushina, and Shen Uchiha—finally finished all the food on the table.
"Boss, thirty more servings please." x2
Minato had just started to put down his chopsticks when this remark nearly scared him to death.
Shen Uchiha, already exhausted and slumped in a chair, had expected exactly this. These two little monsters weren't only capable of handling spicy food—they could eat quite a lot.
He also thought Minato was far too naïve and would need a few hard lessons from reality before becoming a true ninja.
"Shen Uchiha, don't just watch me eat! You should eat more too," Nayou said, scooping up a full bowl of food from the broth that was as red as blood.
Shen Uchiha, who had hoped to slack off and pretend to be dead, immediately felt terrible—the very sight of that hellish dish made him fear he'd ascend straight to heaven if he tried to eat it.
"Didn't you already finish eating, Shen Uchiha? Well, I guess that's okay then."
"No! I'm fine!" Grabbing a bowl and starting to eat right away, Shen Uchiha chose to prove his ability through actions.
Watching all this, Minato lowered his head in shame, reminded yet again just how amazing seniors could be—their endurance was simply unbelievable.
Gathering himself, he started eating faster and faster.
"You kids are walking a narrow path," Shen Uchiha muttered, his eyelid twitching uncomfortably.
You don't even want to eat—why bother faking it like that?
Shen Uchiha could already foresee scenes of Minato and Naruto shedding tears while eating hot pot for years to come, much like today.
"Boss, thirty more servings please," Kushina said again, clearly not satisfied yet.
A shiver ran down Shen Uchiha's spine. Pretending to pass out again, he muttered, "You guys go ahead. I'm already—"
Nayou smiled sweetly at him: "Make it sixty servings."
Once a notorious troublemaker in Konoha, Shen Uchiha quickly lifted his head to prevent the tears from rolling out of his eyes.
"Boss, make it one hundred servings," he said with a bitter face, giving up on all resistance.
That evening, the first episode of the new segment on the *Konoha Evening News* aired right on schedule.
The host—none other than former Konoha upper-rank official Ryuichi—was dressed in a black suit and wore gold-rimmed glasses.
He announced the first news item seriously: "Today, at a restaurant on the Uchiha Commercial Street serving hot pot, four villagers achieved something unprecedented. Let's take a closer look together."
"Do you know what it feels like when someone eats six hundred servings of ingredients cooked in Devil Hell Spicy Broth?" One affected local villager—who could barely speak properly—didn't show his face, appearing only from the waist up in a black trench coat.
"Well, after we four finished our meal, we even broke the record ourselves," he continued. The camera now focused on the family crest attached to the guard of the sword hanging at his waist.
That unmistakable crest—one where the top half was red, the bottom half white, and with a little tail in between—clearly marked it as belonging to the Uchiha clan.
"Remember, Ninja means enduring pains that ordinary people can't bear. Welcome to the Devil Hell Spicy Broth!" After saying this, the victimized villager reached up and covered the camera lens with his hand.
The screen then turned black as Ryuichi appeared: "According to somewhat unreliable speculation, this previous villager who refused to show his face seemed to be in urgent need of using the restroom. His three fellow villagers were also unwilling to appear on camera, but we promise to keep tracking and reporting on them as well."
After the first news segment, Ryuichi moved on to the second story: "Yesterday, a badly injured man was cursing loudly inside the Uchiha Casino. Let's find out exactly what happened here."
The scene shifted to an opulent private room decorated with golden embellishments.
The second victimized villager lay sprawled on the floor motionless, shouting accusations at the camera: "Right now I just want to know who Shinko Otsutsuki is! Authors like this who mislead readers should be hanged from a tree for ten thousand years!"
Although his face was blurred, his long white hair made it easy to guess who he really was.
"You've got to help me find this guy. Also, I make my living with my good looks, so you'd better keep the blurs heavy," he demanded.
"Don't worry, our show's legit. Once we finish editing and air this, your face'll definitely stay under heavy blurs," the reporter assured him earnestly.
Without showing any facial expressions, the victimized villager gravely addressed the camera: "Remember this—when looking for a wife, never settle for someone with bad habits. I'm your best example."
"All men are pigs!" Tsunade exclaimed, hurling the remote control she was holding straight at the center of the TV screen.
Since that victimized villager arrived last night, her winning rate had dropped more than one hundredfold. Getting himself into this situation was considered relatively mild punishment considering how bad his gambling luck had become.
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