Naruto Tower — Mission Assignment Center.
"Huh? These three just graduated from the Academy, right? And their first mission already has this kind of difficulty?"
The clerk, a bespectacled ninja seated behind the mission counter, looked skeptically at the trio of newly minted Genin standing in front of him. His eyes shifted to Yūhi Kurenai, who stood beside them, composed and graceful as ever.
"Are you sure about this, Kurenai-sensei?" he asked cautiously.
Kurenai nodded, her expression calm but firm. "Yes. It'll be fine."
After that confirmation, the man adjusted his glasses and asked, "Understood. Will it be a C-rank or B-rank mission, then?"
"C–" Kurenai began, but before she could finish, Kazehaya Hayate suddenly raised his hand.
"Sensei, could you let me choose this time?"
Kurenai's brow twitched. Her eyes narrowed with thinly veiled irritation. This guy… First he'd buttered her up with compliments, and now he wanted to act like he ran the team? He's going to be a handful, isn't he?
As her beautiful crimson eyes shot daggers at him, Hayate had already leaned forward over the counter, grinning at the clerk.
"So, uh, any missions that pay well but aren't, you know, too dangerous?" he asked eagerly.
In truth, Hayate had wanted to ask about any assignments related to Konoha's rogue "Naraku Ryosuke," but that kind of question would definitely raise suspicions. Better to play it safe—and maybe earn a bit of money while he was at it.
The glasses-wearing ninja thought for a moment, then his eyes brightened. "Actually, yes," he said, standing and rummaging through a nearby shelf before pulling out a stack of mission scrolls. "A merchant from the Land of Tea just issued this one. There's a major tea ceremony happening soon, and the guest list's full of powerful figures—some dangerous, some shady. He wants Konoha ninja to protect him and his family for the next three days. The pay is… quite generous—one hundred thousand ryō."
Hayate's jaw nearly hit the floor. "Wait, what?! A hundred thousand ryō?"
The clerk nodded. "That's right. For context, one ryō equals about ten yen. You know how Ichiraku's ramen costs five hundred yen a bowl? So yeah, that's enough for… about two hundred thousand bowls of ramen."
Hayate's eyes sparkled with greed. "Two hundred thousand bowls… Heaven…" Then, snapping back to reality, he asked quickly, "Okay but—how much do we get out of that?"
The clerk looked uncertain. "Uh… the three Genin will split around a hundred ryō each. The jōnin gets the remaining thirty thousand."
Hayate's shoulders slumped. "Oh come on! That's highway robbery…"
Just then, a hearty laugh echoed through the hall. "Heh! If you all do a good job, maybe I'll give you a personal bonus!"
Everyone turned as a middle-aged man entered. He was slightly overweight but dressed in elegant silk robes embroidered with gold thread. His rings gleamed as he offered a genial smile.
The clerk immediately stood straighter. "Ah—this is Mr. Trump, the client who issued the mission. If you accept, I'll log it right away, and you can depart for the Land of Tea with him."
"Ah! Mr. Trump!" Hayate exclaimed, springing forward with a grin. "You have that distinguished aura about you! I can tell you're a man of wealth and refinement. Please, take good care of us for the next few days!"
Trump chuckled warmly. "Hah! Well, I suppose I'll be counting on you four instead." His eyes, however, lingered for a moment on Kurenai, the red-haired beauty whose calm grace stood out among her students.
From the mission details, he knew she was the supervising jōnin—while the three beside her were just rookies. But that should be more than enough protection.
Kurenai sighed quietly. "We'll take the mission," she told the clerk before Hayate could embarrass himself any further.
The man at the counter gave a resigned chuckle. "Heh… understood," he said, stamping the mission scroll and sliding it forward.
Kurenai turned to her team. "Do you three need to prepare anything before we leave?"
Trump waved dismissively. "No need for that! My servants will handle any daily necessities or luggage. You can travel light."
Kurenai nodded once. "Then let's move out."
Later — The Border of the Land of Tea
In a grand castle nestled between the lush green borders of two nations, a masked man draped in blood-red robes sat in a high-backed chair.
Before him knelt a man dressed entirely in black, head lowered in deference.
"My lord," the subordinate began, "after receiving your letter, the tea merchants became terrified. They believe they'll be targeted during the tea ceremony and have gone to the ninja village to hire protection. Forgive my boldness, but… wouldn't it have been simpler to strike on the day itself? There's no need for such… elaborate preparation."
The masked man lifted his head slowly, his gaze like an icy blade.
"Are you… reminding me?" he asked softly. "Or trying to teach me how to do my work?"
The faintest hint of killing intent filled the air. The man in black trembled as if standing before a raging storm, his voice shaking. "N-no, my lord! I merely meant— I worry you're wasting your strength on something so trivial, when it could hinder your cultivation."
Silence.
The masked man turned his head toward the window. Beyond the glass, a massive purple hawk dove from the sky, wings slicing through the air like blades.
"Get out," he said flatly.
The black-clad subordinate fled instantly, bowing as he backed away like a condemned man pardoned at the gallows.
When he was gone, the masked man rose to his feet, lifting a gloved hand. The purple hawk swooped gracefully through the open window and landed on his arm.
"Ziwan," the man murmured, his tone shifting to a chilling amusement, "did you find anything interesting today?"
The hawk let out several sharp cries in reply.
The man's cold face twisted into a grotesque grin. Chakra flared from him like a storm bursting its banks.
"So, their hired protectors have arrived, hm?" he said, his voice almost gleeful. "Heh heh heh… good. Only those who struggle before death can make my game worth playing."
Evening — Arrival in the Land of Tea
By sundown, Hayate and his team had followed Trump through winding roads to the Land of Tea—a peaceful, verdant country whose wealth flowed from its tea fields.
As they passed through the farmlands, countless villagers bent over in the dusky light, picking tea leaves by hand. The sight of the Konoha ninja escort drew curious glances—and when the villagers caught sight of Kurenai's beauty and Hinata's shy presence behind Hayate, their whispers grew faintly heated.
"Are those the ninja Mr. Trump hired?" one villager murmured. "Look at their forehead protectors—that's the Konoha symbol."
"I heard he paid a fortune for them," another replied. "Guess it's good business for him… not for us, though."
"Yeah… when it comes to stuff like this, it's always us common folk who suffer the most."
Though the villagers spoke quietly, their words reached Hayate's ears.
Trump laughed, waving a hand. "You all should focus on your work! Don't make me tell your superiors you're slacking off!"
It sounded like a joke—but the villagers instantly fell silent, bending back to their tasks with renewed vigor.
Kiba and Hinata didn't think much of it, but Kurenai's sharp instincts caught something unsettling in the exchange. She couldn't yet name it, but unease flickered faintly in her chest.
Hayate, meanwhile, frowned.
Those few words from the villagers revealed a lot:
First, they already knew Trump had gone to Konoha to hire ninja. In fact, it seemed other merchants had done the same. Why? Was there some kind of danger surrounding the tea ceremony? Rivalries among merchants, perhaps?
Second, they'd mentioned "that kind of thing." What exactly had they meant? What had happened here before?
Hayate's expression hardened.
This mission was starting to feel anything but simple. One hundred thousand ryō… might turn out to be far more costly than it looked.