REVIEWS AND POWERSTONES PLSSS!!!!!Chapter 108:
"What?" Yasushi's eyes nearly bulged out in rage. He slammed the table so hard it rattled, his eyes turning red.
"Four nations joining forces to attack a half-crippled Konoha, and they still fight this poorly!"
"Are all the shinobi villages fucking useless?"
"Uh..." The Kirigakure ninja nervously swallowed, saying in a trembling voice, "The main issue is that Iwagakure suddenly stopped moving for some reason."
"Konoha was able to free up its hands because of this, set up an ambush, and defeated Sunagakure in one strike, capturing the Kazekage Rasa."
"Now Sunagakure probably can't continue fighting."
"Hehe..." Orochimaru suddenly laughed, looking at Uchiha Yasushi with a teasing gaze. "Yasushi, this is your own fault."
Yasushi's face couldn't help but twitch. He had nothing to say.
Other matters aside, Onoki's side suddenly ceasing combat to rest and regroup—more than likely there were factors from his earlier troublemaking involved.
He'd played his game, patted his ass, and left. Konoha's side knew this, but Onoki's side didn't.
Onoki was already a cautious and prudent old man. Out of careful consideration, he paused his offensive to see which way the wind blew before deciding his next move—that couldn't be considered wrong.
But once he stopped fighting, he screwed over his allies.
Though he probably never imagined Sunagakure could be that pathetic—defeated in a single battle, not even giving old man Onoki a chance to rejoin the battlefield.
"A bunch of useless maggots!" Yasushi cursed resentfully. "I seriously suspect now that Konoha and Sunagakure have something going on!"
"Every time Sunagakure was defeated by Konoha before, Hiruzen Sarutobi would let them off lightly. Now at this critical moment, Sunagakure came to return Hiruzen Sarutobi's favor!"
Regarding Yasushi's indignation, Orochimaru only smiled without speaking, refusing to engage. Hiruko didn't know the inside story, so he couldn't interject either.
After Yasushi finished his rant, he inquired about some more intelligence. Feeling there was nothing else useful, he waved his hand and let the Kirigakure ninja scram.
The Kirigakure ninja, shocked and delighted, quickly scrambled up and ran off, not even bothering to collect his two teammates' corpses on the ground.
But this was quite normal. Under the influence of the "Village of Bloody Mist," Kirigakure shinobi frequently killed each other. Feelings between teammates were rather indifferent—mutual vigilance and wariness were more common instead.
Affected by this distressing intelligence, Yasushi lost interest in continuing to drink. He wolfed down his rice ball in a few bites, tossed the payment on the table, and swaggered out.
After they left, the tavern owner who'd been hiding in the back emerged trembling, skillfully collecting the corpses, mopping the floor clean, rearranging the tables and chairs, waiting for the next wave of customers.
Naturally, he didn't dare touch anything on the corpses. Otherwise, who knew—next time it might be someone collecting his body.
Leaving the tavern, the group traveled swiftly. Soon they left the Land of Water's territory and entered the Land of Fire's borders.
Here, things were obviously much more chaotic.
Shinobi from a poor place like the Land of Water would casually attack even their own companions. In enemy territory, could they possibly turn around and become good people?
Along their journey, if not nine out of ten houses were empty, it wasn't far off. But Yasushi also knew that life would find a way.
After so many years of warfare, once war broke out, those able-bodied civilians basically fled to hide deep in mountains and forests. Those remaining outside were mostly the old, weak, sick, and disabled—NPCs for the shinobi lords to farm.
Those who couldn't run fast enough had basically been eliminated by the times.
However, shinobi were also bullies who feared the strong. They only dared plunder ordinary civilians and small-to-medium merchants. As for major merchants, they didn't dare provoke them.
Because behind those major merchants often stood nobles or even daimyo.
If they robbed a merchant caravan today, tomorrow a letter from the daimyo would arrive at the shinobi village. They'd have to cough everything up and might even face consequences.
If unlucky, their very lives would be forfeit.
So when Yasushi and company saw a large merchant caravan ahead being intercepted and attacked, they were actually quite surprised.
"Oh, gutsy!" Yasushi praised with a grin.
The people in the merchant caravan, seeing Yasushi's group appear, weren't afraid at all. Instead, thinking they'd seen a lifeline, they jumped up from afar, shouting loudly.
"Hey, are you shinobi from the Land of Rain?"
"Hurry over and help! Take out that lunatic across from us! My lord will reward you handsomely!"
What Akatsuki organization or not—in nobles' eyes, they were all lower-class people who worked for money. How would they dare disobey their masters?
Nations might slaughter each other, but aside from those rogue ninja crazed by poverty, which regular shinobi village's people would dare attack noble merchant caravans?
Yasushi and the others ignored him, just walking forward unhurriedly.
Growing more anxious, he kept raising the stakes.
"As long as you kill that bandit and protect the caravan safely, we'll pay five million ryo—no, ten million ryo!... Twenty million ryo!"
Seeing everyone still unmoved, the steward grew so desperate he spoke without thinking, switching to threats:
"We're the daimyo of the Land of Water's direct merchant caravan! If you dare refuse to save us, aren't you afraid of our retaliation?"
"Just you wait! When I get back..."
Before he could finish his words, a figure suddenly appeared behind him. A blade stabbed through from his back and out his chest, piercing him straight through the heart.
The steward screamed miserably, lowering his head arduously to see that gleaming blade suddenly disappear from his field of vision. Blood gushed wildly from the opening, blooming into a blood-red flower before his eyes—dangerous and deadly.
"Ghk... kkh..."
Strange gasping sounds emerged from his throat. His hands clutched tightly at the wound on his chest as his body slowly collapsed to the ground, lying there convulsing continuously, his eyes full of disbelief.
What was wrong with this world? How had it become like this?
In the past, no one had ever dared attack the daimyo's direct merchant caravans. Now why was everyone refusing to give the daimyo face?
After the steward fell, the bandit behind him revealed his form, staring at Yasushi's group with cold eyes full of vigilance.
Yasushi looked up. This man had short hair, bandages wrapped around his face hiding the lower half of his features. Bare-chested with prominent arm warmers and leg guards, wearing a Kirigakure rogue ninja forehead protector tilted on his head—a thoroughly rebellious appearance.
"Oh, I wondered who it was—so bold as to attack a daimyo's merchant caravan. So it's Zabuza!"
Yasushi's gaze immediately shifted away from Zabuza, searching left and right.
"Speaking of which, shouldn't you have a Yuki clan orphan with you?"
"Where's Haku?"
"Didn't come along?"
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