As they walked, Umino Yoru habitually activated his 200-meter precision ultrasonic radar jutsu, scanning for potential ambushes.
Shinobi thrive on unpredictability. Just because they were back at headquarters didn't mean they were safe—if anything, it might be more dangerous here.
Sure enough, something caught his attention.
At a small rice shop around the corner, an almost imperceptible chakra fluctuation flickered—like someone barely learning to mold chakra.
"Hm?" Curious, he focused his senses, only to find two ordinary civilians with no visible chakra traces.
Odd.
Switching to infrasonic radar jutsu for deeper penetration, he discovered the truth:
Both were shinobi.
One had special jonin-level reserves, the other standard chunin-level, their chakra sharp and unmistakably wind-natured.
Why hide their chakra so meticulously?
They had to be spies.
"Tō, it's been ages since we had tempura."
"Captain, look—there's a tempura stall. And a tavern right behind it."
Shukudō, ever the sycophant, grinned and made arrangements. Back in Shinanogakure, he was in his element, already planning a post-mission celebration once they checked in with logistics.
"Mm." Umino Yoru nodded approvingly, playing the part of the indulgent superior as he strutted into the tavern.
His sonic jutsu soon confirmed it:
The two were Sunagakure spies—and not just any spies. They were deep-cover agents planted decades ago by the Sabaku clan.
Who'd suspect a lifelong rice merchant in Shinanogakure of being a Sabaku sleeper agent?
No wonder they're Suna's top clan. Their groundwork is terrifying.
The spy meeting the merchant had one goal: investigate the recent disappearance of a Sabaku smuggling convoy.
They wanted their missing cargo back—and to send a warning to Konoha's Mitokado clan for double-crossing them.
The leaked smuggling rumors? All this spy's doing.
The Sabaku clan hadn't named the Mitokado outright—they still wanted their lucrative partnership. This was just a reminder to play fair.
After all, the Sabaku clan suspected a heist.
How else could millions of ryō in military supplies vanish without a trace?
Their spies in Konoha should've caught whispers of such a haul—yet silence.
Conclusion? The Mitokado clan took the goods for themselves.
It wouldn't be the first time—but doing it mid-war was bold.
To teach them a lesson, the Sabaku clan flooded the rumor mill, forcing the Mitokado to sweat.
But they'd already struck a new deal: future exchanges would happen behind Suna's frontlines.
Now, the Mitokado had to worry about being robbed in return.
"Better grab that ledger fast."
Umino Yoru had planned to retrieve the smuggling records after checking in, but this was too good an opportunity.
Excusing himself to "wash up," he created two shadow clones.
One disguised itself and infiltrated the Mitokado compound, locating the ledger hidden in a waterproof case beneath a koi pond.
The other tailed the Suna spy, who'd now transformed into a weathered farmer hauling a sack of rice.
The clone slipped the ledger into a hidden corner of the rice shop—then waited.
"Tō, let's wrap up. Time to report in."
Umino Yoru devoured his tempura and hustled the team toward logistics.
Meanwhile, his clone watched as the spy queued at the city gate's peasant entrance—a cramped side passage where commoners paid tolls just to enter or leave.
The spy's act was flawless: the pinched expression as he handed over coins, the stiff gait of a man who'd toiled his life away.
Almost through…
Then—
"Now."
The clone unleashed a subsonic pulse, disrupting the spy's chakra control.
A flicker of energy leaked out.
"Halt! Inspection!"
The gate guards—Hyūga and Uchiha sentries—snapped to attention.
Cornered, the spy dropped the act.
He flung his rice sack at the Hyūga, kicked the Uchiha into a wall, and bolted for freedom.
Special jonin speed.
The Uchiha guard didn't stand a chance.