A freshly bought instant camera sat on the table.
Ryosuke took a deep breath.
"Hermit Purple!"
Purple vines appeared, coiling around Ryosuke's arm. As he forcefully slashed down, a faint golden Ripple flickered, the instant camera was split apart by a palm strike.
Amazingly, the broken camera still slowly spat out a photo.
Ryosuke picked up the photo and shook it. Gradually, a man's face appeared.
Ryosuke remembered his name.
Takeshi Kobayashi.
He was a man with sharp eyes and a tall, burly figure.
Back then, it was he who represented the survivors and expressed thanks to Ryosuke, leading more than 160 survivors to build a village.
In the photo, Takeshi Kobayashi looked terrible, one of his eyes was blind, and his body was covered in wounds wrapped in bandages. In the picture, he was carrying a water bucket even bigger than himself, gritting his teeth while hauling goods.
"Star Platinum."
Ryosuke switched his Stand, activating Star Platinum's "Printer" ability.
Star Platinum held the photo in one hand, and picked up a pre-prepared pen from the table with the other, drawing the details in the photo that were invisible to the naked eye onto paper.
Very quickly, Ryosuke found a clue, at the edge of the wooden bucket, a thumb-sized piece of metal was embedded. On it were the words, "Matsumoto Sake Brewery."
'Matsumoto Sake Brewery?'
'Why would Takeshi Kobayashi be working for a sake brewery?'
Judging by his pale complexion, he needed rest more than he needed to work.
Ryosuke exchanged glances with the others in the room. Everyone had a similar answer in their hearts, After the Hope Village massacre, the survivors had been enslaved and sold to work at the brewery.
The group split up and entered the city to gather intel.
Ryosuke thought it would take some effort, but surprisingly, they found Takeshi Kobayashi that very evening.
That's right, Matsumoto Sake Brewery was a local business.
Takeshi was holding a meal tray, sitting with a group of laborers having lunch.
Since it was heavy physical labor, Matsumoto Sake Brewery provided fairly generous lunches, rice, fish, even an egg.
Takeshi Kobayashi's tray, however, had only a single corn cob, nothing else.
As the corn-gnawing Takeshi Kobayashi saw Ryosuke walking toward him, he froze. His one remaining eye turned red and teared up on the spot.
Takeshi Kobayashi stood, strode forward, and was about to kneel, but remembered Ryosuke didn't like others kneeling to him, so he bowed deeply instead and choked out, "Sir, I…"
He wanted to describe what he had experienced recently, but too much had happened. A thousand words welled up at once, and he didn't know where to begin.
Ryosuke gently patted his shoulder, sending a ripple of energy through his body to heal his injuries.
"No rush. Take your time."
Rei took out an orange, "Uncle, have an orange."
Takeshi took the orange and nodded firmly.
The course of events matched Ryosuke's speculation.
This had indeed been an unplanned massacre.
But what Ryosuke hadn't expected, "The killer seemed like a madman, talking to himself nonstop. He could transform into all sorts of monsters and killed many in the village."
Takeshi recalled, "But he wasn't killing just to kill. He was venting emotions. I rushed in to fight him but was knocked unconscious."
"When I came to, the madman had already left."
"I counted the survivors, less than twenty remained, most of them injured."
Afraid the madman would return, Takeshi led the survivors to town. He used the remaining village savings to rent a small warehouse and bought medicine to treat the wounded.
But it was far from enough.
Takeshi and the few still able to move went out to work for money, trying to afford doctors and food.
"…But some gave up. They didn't want to work while injured for others, so they left quietly."
Ryosuke nodded.
Understandable. Human nature is selfish. After suffering blow after blow, how many people have the strength left to care for others?
If they didn't commit suicide, that was already considered strong.
But precisely because it was hard for ordinary people to do, that made Takeshi and the others who stayed behind all the more precious.
"How many of you are left?" Ryosuke asked.
"Counting me, thirty-four remain. Only five are able to work. The rest are healing in the warehouse."
Over 160 people got off the boat, and now only around thirty were left.
Ryosuke looked up at the bright blue sky. The blazing sun hung high, yet it brought no warmth. This world was like a gaping mouth, with sun and moon as its jaws, endlessly chewing.
Five people… supporting twenty-nine.
No wonder the other workers got rice and fish, while Takeshi chewed on a corn cob.
He was saving meal money to pay for the wounded's treatment.
"Do you have any more detailed clues about the madman killer?"
Activating Hermit Purple required a specific trigger. The more related clues and causes, the better it could lock onto the target.
Takeshi thought for a moment and said, "Sir, I… I never studied, and I'm not good with words. Compared to me, the wanted poster from the Fire Country government says it more clearly."
"Wanted poster?"
So, the murderer of Hope Village was a repeat offender. He had started in the north of the Fire Country, brutally massacring six villages in a row. The Fire Country government had long issued a bounty.
That bounty had also been passed to Konoha. There should be ninja investigating the surrounding cities now.
"Take us to see it," Ryosuke said.
"Yes, sir!"
Takeshi led them out of Matsumoto Brewery. On the way, they ran into his supervisor, who suspiciously asked, "And these people are…?"
Takeshi froze, unsure how to refer to Ryosuke.
While he was thinking, he heard Ryosuke say, "We're his friends."
"Friends, huh! That's great! You guys don't know, Takeshi, even while injured, has been working day and night like mad. I'm really afraid he's going to die on the job!" The foreman left.
Takeshi bowed slightly. "Lord Ryosuke, I'm sorry."
"Why apologize?"
"I don't know… But hierarchy is hierarchy."
Ryosuke shook his head. "Bullshit hierarchy. If you want to follow me, don't say that word again."
Putting aside their power difference, Takeshi had been eating corn, hauling heavy goods, and working himself to the bone for a group of people who weren't even related to him by blood.
A real man who dared to carry responsibility on his shoulders, that kind of guy was worthy of Ryosuke calling a friend.
Ryosuke patted the stunned Takeshi and walked out of the brewery.
Takeshi sniffled hard, staring at Ryosuke's back, a fire lighting in his chest. Willingly, he followed Ryosuke, ready to repay him with his life. He wiped the tears from his eyes and strode after him.
The bounty poster was plastered on the most bustling commercial street of the city.
Ryosuke walked over. Ignoring the startled stares of others, he reached out to tear it down.
"I advise you not to rip that." A rough, deep voice came from behind.
Ryosuke turned to look.
A middle-aged man stood a few steps away, grinning, with messy white hair, red lines extending from his eyes to his chin, wearing a forehead protector with the word "oil" and a red haori.
"And you are?" Ryosuke asked.
"I have many titles. But those who know me usually call me…"
"Toad Sage."
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