The man's words took Minato aback for a moment, but as trained as he was, his eyelids didn't so much as twitch to the man's words. His face remained neutral. "Hollow attacks? Death?" Minato dissected the information carefully inwardly and then looked to the man for clarification. "Forget it, kid. This is the 65th District of North Rukongai. Welcome to the Soul Society.."
"North Rukongai? Soul Society?" Minato assessed and broke down the information, his brows knitting tightly at times. Just what was this place? He lifted his head to find the old man smiling at him. "How did you know I was a new soul?" Minato asked calmly.
The old man exhaled a puff of smoke and then turned his head to the sky. "That's easy. I had the same look on your face when I arrived here decades ago.." The man shook his head, a tinge of nostalgia turning the tip of his nose sour. Minato had to believe the old man. He had no other choice. There was no existing information to infer from.
"What exactly is this place?" He asked again, and the old man simply let out a series of coughs. "What were you in your previous life? You look awfully young to have that diplomatic and keen look on your face?" Minato raised a brow at the question.
"A Ho- I was a leader.." He cleared his throat. "A leader eh? I see. I was royalty too when I was alive.. But to answer your question, this is Rukongai, a part or the outskirts of the Serieitei. Majority of the Souls who die and are escorted to the afterlife by the Shinigami appear here..." Minato had a fair inkling, that the Shinigami the old man was talking about wasn't the Shinigami he knew about, but he continued listening.
"The Serieitei is the nexus of this world. That's where the Shinigami, their families and the important figures of the Soul Society live. That's where the Central Rule of the entire Soul Society is. Rukongai is just an extension of the Serieitei, where the less privileged, and new souls live ..." Minato was lost in thought after the old man's words. This was more than an afterlife, it seemed like a world on its own with a complex structure and rule.
"What exactly are the role of these Shinigami?" The old man observed Minato's reaction throughout with a small intrigued smile. "The Shinigami are trained Souls that guide human souls from the World of the Living into the Soul Society. They also defend the Soul Society and the world of the Living against Hollows.
I know you'll ask me what Hollows are, so let's get it over with. Hollows are insatiable evil souls turned monsters that devour souls."
Minato understood what the old man was talking about, but he still had his questions which he ultimately kept to himself. Minato was about to ask more questions when a young man dressed in an incomplete leather armour with a blade strapped to his waist walked out, and bowed to the old man respectfully. "Fujitaro san, the materials have been acquired and loaded. We're ready to leave.." He quickly stepped back, standing behind the old man, a loyal guard.
"Ah, seems like our little chat has to end here. Maybe it was fate that brought us together, kid. Here, buy yourself some food to eat, and stay out of sight. Don't come out at night.." The old man stood and stretched his back lazily, before he patted Minato's shoulder and dropped a small pouch in his hands, before walking away with his guard.
Curious, Minato opened the pouch, and raised a brow, seeing the incredible number of silver coins within. He took out a couple, blessed some kids and some beggars along the way, and then got himself a nice meal. Just the normal rice, meat, and sauce, something to keep him going..
Holding his meal in a poorly packaged wrapper, he got himself a nice spot to eat his meal, when he spotted a carriage heading into the distance. Seated at the forefront was the old man who had gifted him the pouch. Fate would surely bring them together, but contrary to expectations, Minato didn't believe in fate. He shrugged, re wrapped his food and began tailing the old man, whom he believed knew more than he let on.
His skills as a Shinobi came into play. Even without his chakra, his skills and technicality as a ninja was more than enough to tail someone. Keeping his distance from the carriage, he made sure to travel parallel to the direction the carriage was moving, making sure to erase and mask his footprints and presence with the surrounding vegetation.
At night, as the carriage stopped to rest, Minato picked a spot atop a tall tree. Resting his back against the long tree stem, he unwrapped his meal that had already gone cold and began to eat. He kept his keen eye on the carriage below, seeing them pitch out tents to rest in the distance. Finishing his meal in less than a few minutes, he sat cross legged, quietly, processing the information he had gleaned from the old man up to this point..
There were a lot of speculative questions that he needed answers to, but in the quest for truth, after eliminating all impossibilities, whatever remained, no matter how improbable, was the truth. He sat there in deep thought. Maybe this truly was the Shinigami's Hell, maybe there had been a slight miscalculation when the Shinigami had absorbed his soul, or maybe fate had other plans for him, but the information he had at his disposal, all pointed to one simple fact, this was a whole new world, different from where he once lived.
The old man who claimed to have been transported here decades ago had not even paid attention to, or recognised his forehead protector, which was unusual, as most Shinobis wore their forehead protectors to indicate their origins as well.
Minato sighed, scratching his head. "Hollows, Shinigami? Serieitei?" He whispered, casting his mind back to the conversation with the old man. 'I won't be able to figure everything out with this little information.. I'll just have to keep tailing them. Hopefully, my efforts don't turn out to be futile in the end..' He mused, resting his head against the massive tree stem, and closing his eyes to rest.
Few hours later...
*Chirp*
A lone ray of sunshine fell onto Minato's face, arousing the former Hokage from his slumber. As his eyes fluttered open, his sky blue irises quickly scanned the area around him, a reflex cultivated through years of bloodshed and battle. Minato took in a deep breath, sending nothing unusual, but in a split second, his head snapped to the side, instincts screaming.
"The carriage? What's wrong?" He slowly rose to his feet, taking slow steps, and then crouched down, his pupils squinting. The entire area looked normal. The horses that pulled the carriage were being tended to, four bodyguards were unmounting the tents they slept in, it looked like there was nothing going on, at least to the untrained eye.
But.
Minato, his eyes caught the disturbances in an instant and then he spotted them. Shadows. Creeping shadows stealthily flocking towards the carriage and the bodyguards around. "One, two three, four... there's four of them, against four bodyguards and a helpless old man. They're not necessarily outnumbered but outclassed, judging from the skills of the assassins. .."
Minato frowned. Asking why was useless at this point. 'No signs of anyone, within a 5km radius, this spot is rather convenient for an assassination.. Not bad.. They are able to hide their tracks extremely well, using the dense forest as cover..' Minato shrugged. The assassins were good, at least from what he observed. Not as good as the Shinobi from back home and not exactly how he would've gone about it, but it was still impressive nonetheless...
The attack was coordinated, swift and left no room for counter. The first target was one of the guards, an innocent youth, disposing off the pieces of wood used for the bonfire. The shadows slowly crept up behind him, slowly tailing him until the time was right and then...
*SHLICK!!*
A wikizashi tore his throat open, as blood gushed out like a geyser. He barely had time to react to the attack, not to talk of reaching out to his blade that was strapped along his waist. He collapsed to the ground, his throat torn apart, as he tried to reach out to his partner who was busily unmounting the tents, a figure wrapped in a black cloak creeped up from behind and impaled his head with a katana, an explosion of blood and gore that dyed the ground itself red.
A/N: Wakizashi: A blade similar to a katana yet shorter by an inch.