"According to this mission, we are to follow the route designated by the Intelligence Division and search for possible Uchiha rogue-nin."
Shimon, as a shinobi from the Intelligence Division, was already tasked with guiding Takeshi.
He pulled out a neatly folded map from his jacket pocket, spread it out on the ground, and the several red lines marked upon it were clearly the indicators provided by Intelligence.
"Our squad's mission is to set out from the southern part of Konoha, travel all the way to the southern coastline of the Land of Fire, then board a ship from there, and finally arrive here."
Shimon placed his finger on an island isolated out at sea, where a circular whirlpool had been drawn.
"So that's it… the ruins of Uzushio, huh?"
Tobitake Tonbo had both hands stuffed in his pockets as he leaned down. Even though the upper half of his face was tightly wrapped in bandages, it didn't seem to affect his sight.
For some reason, this guy gave off an inexplicable sense of coolness.
Takeshi tried to imitate Tobitake Tonbo's strange stance, but in the end, he gave up.
...
"The footprints are deep, rough in texture, and the steps are irregular. Their group most likely has no shinobi among them."
Shimon lay flat on the ground, his face almost pressed to the dirt, just to observe the prints before him.
"This doesn't match the report from the Analysis Division."
Once he confirmed the footprints weren't of great value, Shimon stood back up, patted the dust off himself, and turned to look at Tobitake Tonbo in the distance.
"Don't look at me. I'm just a regular member of the Analysis Division, only in charge of memory extraction."
Keeping his hands in his pockets, Tobitake Tonbo shrugged, signaling that if Shimon was upset, he shouldn't take it out on him.
The mountain range ahead was considered by the Intelligence Division to be one of the possible enemy strongholds. But judging by these footprints, the ones here seemed to be nothing more than useless bandits.
While examining the prints as well, Tobitake Tonbo didn't lie down like Shimon. Instead, he crouched and ran his hand across the markings.
"Indeed, these were left by ordinary people. But their steps aren't messy—this walking pattern is characteristic of ronin."
His words made Shimon pause for a moment.
"The Analysis Division often takes part in field missions. Our combat experience far surpasses that of Intelligence Division headquarters."
Without bothering to see Shimon's reaction—or perhaps because he didn't need to—Tobitake Tonbo returned to where he had been standing.
"Haha, no matter what, the Analysis Division is still under Intelligence Division management. We're all part of the same department. Here, have some snacks."
Sensing the awkward atmosphere, Akimichi Shitō immediately stepped in to smooth things over, offering some of his own snacks.
Even with this special jōnin stepping in to lighten the mood, neither Shimon nor Tobitake Tonbo responded. Neither spared him a glance, continuing with their own business.
"By the way, where's Captain Takeshi?"
When no one accepted his snacks, Akimichi Shitō just popped them into his own mouth, then recalled that their captain hadn't returned yet.
"No idea."
This time, Tobitake Tonbo at least answered, though the answer didn't help at all.
Seriously… are the young people in the village all this eccentric nowadays?
Having received that answer, Akimichi Shitō didn't know what else to say. He could only sit back down and wait for Takeshi to return on his own.
At that moment, Takeshi had already reached the center of the mountain range, where he found a wooden stockade.
"As expected, no matter how much intel you chase, nothing beats asking directly."
He glanced at the bandits idling inside the stockade, then instantly appeared before them.
"Excuse me, who's your leader?"
The sudden question jolted the drowsy bandits awake. Just as one was about to curse whoever had ruined his nap, he caught sight of the Konoha forehead protector hanging at Takeshi's neck.
"Shit?!"
The bandits cursed instinctively.
Their reaction also surprised Takeshi. He hadn't expected his polite inquiry to be met with such rudeness, and his expression immediately darkened.
He yanked out an explosive tag, slapped it onto one of them, and kicked him away.
The violent explosion soon reached Shimon and the others. Before they could react, Akimichi Shitō had already leapt up, swiftly positioning himself in front of them.
"Tonbo, start sensing immediately! Shimon, cover the flank!"
His nimble movements perfectly illustrated what it meant to be a "light-footed fat man." In a single breath, this special jōnin had made all the necessary arrangements, constructing a defensive line for the squad.
"It's Captain Takeshi's chakra."
Without wasting words, Tobitake Tonbo began sensing as instructed, and soon detected that familiar chakra.
"Lead the way, now!"
The group broke into the standard shinobi sprint. Guided by Tobitake Tonbo, they quickly reached Takeshi's location.
"Mm? You're just in time. I caught a live one. Let's see if we can pull some intel out of him."
Not bothering to look back when he sensed their arrival, Takeshi dragged a man by the hair, forcibly pulling him across the ground to an open space.
"Brutal…"
Watching the 1.6-meter-tall Takeshi drag along a captive nearly 1.8 meters tall, even the battle-hardened Tobitake Tonbo felt a chill run through him.
Still, the bloodied man before them looked strangely familiar to Tobitake Tonbo.
"I've already branded him with a curse mark. He can't mold chakra now. You can freely read his memories."
Takeshi thoughtfully explained for Tobitake Tonbo.
Was that even necessary?
Akimichi Shitō looked at the prisoner struggling to turn his head in a desperate plea. He felt that, at this point, no matter how private the questions they asked, the man would give true answers.
But knowing his own role within the squad, he wisely stayed silent.
With Shimon's assistance, Tobitake Tonbo placed a hand on the man's head and began reading his memories.
Half an hour later, they left the half-dead man behind and reported what they had learned.
"His name is Hiyama Daisuke, former Konoha jōnin. He was reported missing during the Third Shinobi World War. For years he's been hiding in this mountain range, relying on bandits under him for survival."
"Why didn't he return to the village?"
Hearing the name, Akimichi Shitō licked his lips, curious about the reason for his defection.
"Return? Just to be deceived again and used as cannon fodder by you ninja clans? I've had enough of that so-called Will of Fire. Because of the damn Sarutobi clan's command, every shinobi in my squad was killed—every last one of them!"
Perhaps realizing he wouldn't survive, Hiyama Daisuke suddenly began venting. Even with senbon piercing his joints, he still flailed his arms about.