Wu Mang stopped mid-punch, picked up the scroll, and handed it to Shigeo. Shigeo opened it and found it stuffed with scattered valuables—already more than he expected. The deeper he looked, the more his brow furrowed. This bunch of below-chūnin fakes managed to swindle this much just by using my name?
The boy opposite him trembled nervously. He didn't know what this black-haired youth was capable of, but that hulking brute beside him was terrifying. Just bare fists, no ninjutsu, had been enough to beat his comrades half to death.
As for his four companions—they were lying on the ground, battered and barely conscious.
But why was this boy frowning like that?
Wu Mang noticed Shigeo's expression and barked, "My lord isn't satisfied. Just this little money?"
"Y-Yes, yes!" The four men who had been beaten to the ground groaned and crawled forward, handing over their own scrolls.
Even more? And four separate ones—so they'd been splitting the profits.
Shigeo's jaw nearly dropped. He stared at the five conmen, who, misreading his silence, scrambled to empty their pockets again. Soon they had produced a pile of loose gold, some jeweled rings, and ornate necklaces.
"You… you…"
Just a scam crew, and they'd made this much off his name?
Shigeo felt the veins in his forehead throbbing. Bastards, I should just kill—
The words "kill them" were on his lips, Wu Mang was ready to strike, but Shigeo waved his hand.
"I'll ask you—have you taken any lives?" Killing every impostor he ran across would make him no better than the villain they painted him as.
"N-Never! We're not strong enough for that. We've never killed anyone!" the boy cried, trembling on his knees. Compared to his companions, who were at least low-level shinobi, he wasn't even a ninja at all.
"Fine. Since you haven't killed, scram. But if you dare use my name again… I'll execute you without mercy!"
"Y-Yes!"
The five of them hobbled away, leaning on each other as the sandstorm howled outside.
Not long after, one of them froze mid-stride. "Did you hear what he said? His last words?"
"Execute without mercy?"
"No—the sentence before that!"
"Don't use my name to scam people, or else… execute without mercy?"
The five exchanged wide-eyed looks. Lightning seemed to strike their minds. Could it really have been the real Shigeo? No—impossible. If the real one had surfaced, the entire underground world would already know. They told themselves it couldn't be true.
"But… he really looked like him."
"But Shigeo's supposed to be blind!"
That one line dissolved their fear.
"So, do we still go through with tomorrow's job?"
"Of course. We lost half a year's earnings in one night! If we don't hit this next score, how will we leave Wind Country alive?"
Over the last half-year, posing as Shigeo had made them a fortune. Some towns paid tens of thousands just for an "audience," and merchants forked over huge sums to have them appear at events. Sunagakure wasn't paying as much, but right now they needed every coin.
Inside the cavern, everyone waited another three or four days until the sandstorm subsided.
The caravan leader led his people east, while Shigeo and Wu Mang continued west.
Two days later, they reached the gates of Sunagakure. After routine checks, they entered the village and split up—Wu Mang heading to a Nanmo commercial outpost to collect quarterly profits for Wuyouka, and Shigeo alone seeking the Ichibi.
By now, the One-Tailed Shukaku was sealed inside Gaara. At seven years old, Gaara was entering the age when a jinchūriki's control was weakest—trauma gnawed at him, leaving him violent, unstable, and feared.
"A Shura who loves only himself"—that was how Sunagakure's people described him.
Shigeo, cloaked in black, stepped into a tavern, dusting off sand. "Boss, a jug of water please." He pulled off his hood and looked out the door.
There, he caught a glimpse of two figures whispering before parting ways—one was Kankurō, Gaara's older brother, and the other… one of the impostor Shigeo's lackeys from the desert.
Why are they meeting together?
Suspicion gnawed at him. Shigeo rose quietly and followed.
Kankurō vanished down an alley, but the shifty man linked up with another accomplice, then both slipped outside the village.
Ten miles west, in a rocky wasteland, five of the conmen gathered in the shadow of a tall stone pillar.
Shigeo hid nearby, observing.
Half an hour later, Kankurō appeared.
"Brother Shigeo? Are you here?"
The five men stepped out. "We're here. Everything planned?"
Kankurō glanced around and whispered, "Yes. Tomorrow, several shinobi will escort Gaara to Gravel Flats. That's when you make your move."
"So many guards… tricky. You brought the money, right? We agreed: half the payment up front, the rest after the job's done."
"I have it."
The group murmured together. From the shadows, Shigeo's face hardened. These bastards, still daring to use my name? Shameless.
He'd been about to confront them—but when Gaara's name came up, he froze.
So this is about the One-Tail? I was wondering how to approach the jinchūriki, and now… fate drops the chance in front of me.
Better not to spook them yet. Better to see where this plot led.
Slipping away, Shigeo waited until Kankurō emerged from the rocks, then appeared before him.
"Hey, little brother. What were you doing back there with those five? They're not good people."
(End of Chapter)
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