Once Jiraiya's name was mentioned, the mayor had no more doubts. The Second Great Ninja War had ended only a few years ago, and the title of "Konoha's Sannin" still carried overwhelming weight. With Jiraiya watching over the mission, success seemed all but certain.
Two days later, a caravan of several dozen people and over a dozen wagons rumbled out of the town.
Lock and his teammates blended in with the merchants, faces half-hidden beneath cloaks. To the bandits, they looked like nothing more than another group of wealthy traders.
"If the enemy appears, Lock, you strike first. Minato, Kushina—you cover him," Jiraiya instructed in a low voice.
Since this was only a B-rank assignment and the intel suggested no enemy shinobi involvement, Jiraiya wanted Lock—the least experienced of the team—to take point. Unless something truly unexpected happened, he had no plans to intervene.
"Understood," the three answered together.
The caravan deliberately followed the old routes the bandits had attacked before, even turning off the main road to take a forest trail. That path was shorter, but dangerous, and was often chosen by merchants hoping to avoid tolls. Perfect bait.
The first day passed quietly. But by the second afternoon, just as the wagons were nearing the edge of the forest, the enemy finally showed.
Dozens of men burst out from both sides of the road, armed with blades and clubs. Nearly forty in all, they fanned out with bloodthirsty glares.
"Hahaha! Finally—more prey for us!"
At their head stood a massive brute, over two meters tall, his face a mask of scars and malice.
"Drop everything and live!" he bellowed.
But instead of panic, the caravan responded with eerie calm. At once, the supposed "merchants" abandoned the wagons and fell back in perfect order, circling protectively around Lock's team.
"Master ninja! That's them—the murderers!" one of the disguised guards shouted.
The bandits surged forward, only to discover that the wagons they had seized were filled with nothing but stone.
"Boss! The crates are fake!"
The leader's face twisted with rage. "You dare mock me?! Kill them all!"
The mob roared and charged. The caravan guards tightened their grip on their weapons—but per orders, they didn't move. This fight belonged to Jiraiya's team.
Jiraiya, watching, couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. He'd half-expected the bandits to scatter once they realized it was a trap. Instead, they came on like a tide.
"All right then." He gave a sharp nod. "Minato in the center, Lock and Kushina on the flanks. Go."
The three genin burst forward.
"Kushina, Lock—remember, these are killers. Don't hold back," Minato warned as they moved.
Against ordinary men, a shinobi's speed was overwhelming. Minato cut down two with a single burst of movement. Kushina fought with ferocity, fists and feet slamming into bandits who dared come near.
Lock, though smaller and less experienced, darted through the chaos like a fox, kunai flashing. His strikes weren't fatal—hesitation still held him back—but several bandits fell screaming, too injured to continue.
Then he leapt clear, hands flying into seals.
"Earth Release: Swamp of the Underworld!"
The ground beneath his pursuers liquefied, turning to sucking mire. Shouts of panic rang out as half a dozen men were dragged waist-deep into the muck, thrashing helplessly.
"No… they're shinobi!"
Panic spread among the raiders.
"Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!" Minato inhaled deeply and exhaled a gale that sent men sprawling. Kushina followed suit, weaving her own wind technique, the combined blasts scattering the front line like leaves.
The momentum shattered. Those who weren't downed scrambled backward in terror.
"Damn it… Konoha ninja," the bandit chief snarled, eyes narrowing as he spotted the forehead protectors gleaming in the light. He was no fool—he'd tangled with shinobi before. Against three, he had no chance.
"Fall back! Retreat!"
With that, the mob broke.
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