Underground Money Exchange — Secret Room
Senju Ryosuke leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming rhythmically against the tabletop — tap, tap, tap.He had been waiting for nearly two hours, and his patience was wearing dangerously thin.
Logically, the four elite jonin he'd sent out should have reported back by now.
But there was still nothing.
Four elite jonin — one of them a specialist in assassination and sensory techniques — sent to deal with Orochimaru and three rookie brats, two of whom were just tagalongs.
Even if they couldn't win, they should've at least been able to retreat.
Four elite jonin!
That kind of force could assassinate the daimyo of a small country without issue.
The guards planned for the next daimyo only numbered twelve in total — and just three or four were elite jonin. The rest were ordinary jonin and chunin.
By comparison, Ryosuke's hired team was overkill. Their mission should've been a guaranteed success.
So how could they possibly fail?
The only thing left to consider was how to avoid paying the rest of their blackmail fee after confirming Nawaki's death — and how to silence those greedy rogue ninja permanently afterward.
Knock, knock, knock.
Three short raps on the door. The agreed signal.
Ryosuke's lips curled into a confident smirk.
Finally.
The manager of the exchange stepped inside. His expression was as calm as ever — but his gait was off, slower, heavier.
"How did it go?" Ryosuke didn't even stand up. He spoke lazily, condescending. "Is it done? Did Kakuzu respond? Can we delay the final payment to those four bastards—"
"The mission failed."
The manager's voice was flat — but the words hit Ryosuke like a hammer.
The smile froze on his face. His tapping stopped.
He straightened abruptly, disbelief widening his eyes."Failed? How's that possible?! Four jonin couldn't even handle three kids?"
"Orochimaru—he can't be that strong! Even as the Hokage's student, he's just an elite jonin at best! How could he possibly defeat all four?! You told me the mission was foolproof!"
"Please calm down," the manager said coolly. "This failure stems from your faulty intelligence. We're not responsible for losses caused by incorrect information. And because of that information, we've already lost four bounty hunters. That's a serious blow."
"Four…?" Ryosuke's voice trembled. His face went pale.
"All four of them?"
The manager nodded. "None survived. Our border scouts have already confirmed it."
He paused briefly, as though searching for the right words.
"According to the autopsy, all four died of poisoning — a colorless, odorless, undetectable neurotoxin. The method of preparation is unknown, and there's no antidote. Additionally, at least two showed signs of having been trapped in genjutsu before death. Their chakra pathways were disturbed, suggesting they tried to break free."
Even Ryosuke knew what that meant. Disrupting one's own chakra flow was a known way to escape illusions.
"Poison… and genjutsu…" he muttered, forcing himself to think. "It was Orochimaru! It has to be! That snake freak is known for that sort of—"
"No," the manager interrupted calmly.
He produced a scroll, unrolled it on the table, and pointed to the sketched reconstruction and written analysis.
"Based on chakra traces and the battle damage assessment, Orochimaru was fighting only two of the jonin directly — from start to finish."
"As for the assassination and sensory specialists, their locations and chakra patterns suggest they were killed before ever reaching him."
His finger pressed on the center of the scroll.
"In other words…"
Ryosuke stopped breathing.
"…at least two of your four elite jonin weren't killed by Orochimaru at all," the manager continued evenly. "They were taken down by the three genin."
Ryosuke stared blankly.
"The assassin 'Skinny Monkey' lost all vital signs the instant he used Earth Style: Headhunter Jutsu and grabbed one of the children's ankles. The medical analysis shows severe kidney failure within a minute, followed by cardiac arrest — symptoms consistent with neurotoxin exposure."
"'Black Bear' and 'Rattlesnake,' who handled the frontal assault, were restrained and likely captured alive at first. However, they later died from the same poison — curled and twisted, exactly like 'Skinny Monkey.'"
"As for 'Scar,' the team's commander and sensor, he was more than a hundred meters away from Orochimaru." The manager lowered his voice. "And yet, even he couldn't escape the toxin's range."
The pattern was unmistakable.
This wasn't a description of an ordinary ninja fight.
It sounded more like an encounter with Hanzo of the Salamander — the only man known to release a colorless, odorless poison over a hundred meters wide.
Ryosuke swallowed hard. His voice cracked."Could it have been… an illusion? Some unknown genjutsu?"
"It's possible," the manager admitted, "but unlikely. The mental residue at the scene indicates only a standard illusion. That level of genjutsu can't cause death through poisoning."
He folded his hands behind his back. "The most plausible conclusion is that one of Orochimaru's three students is a poison specialist — likely at special-jonin level or higher."
"…"
Ryosuke's body trembled. He collapsed back into his chair, face as white as chalk.
Four jonin… gone.
Just like that.
It was unthinkable.
To him, even becoming a chunin was a rare achievement. A jonin was one in hundreds — and an elite jonin? Practically Kage material.
And yet four of them had died in a single mission.
"Who… who did it?" His voice was barely audible.
The manager calmly rolled up the scroll again. His tone was all business, detached — like a banker discussing overdue debt.
"Based on our latest analysis…"
He paused, then said clearly:
"Among the three children, only Hiroki Sawada fits the profile. During the Genin Graduation Exam, he destroyed a shadow clone of Jiraiya — another of the Hokage's disciples — with a single attack."
"Given that, and the current evidence…"
He met Ryosuke's terrified gaze.
"…it can only be Hiroki Sawada."
"Boom—!"
Ryosuke's mind went blank. His mouth opened, but no words came out — only silent disbelief and fear.
Hiroki Sawada?
That commoner kid?
He wasn't Uchiha. He wasn't Hyuga. How could a nobody kill two elite jonin!?
He's only ten years old!
Even battlefield prodigies didn't develop that kind of killing power so young.
Could elite jonin really be so weak — like cabbages for him to slice apart?
Even four trained ninja pigs wouldn't go down that easily!
Ryosuke felt his world collapsing.
The manager didn't bother to comfort him. He simply adjusted his glasses and continued coldly:
"Since the target's threat level was severely underestimated, Kakuzu-sama's fee must be renegotiated. The mission now qualifies as Super S-Rank Risk. An additional surcharge will apply."
He looked up from his notes. "Few contractors are willing to take such a job. However, we've already contacted Kakuzu. He's been informed — and he'll be meeting you shortly."
The manager's gaze was steady, indifferent — but in it was the faint glint of someone counting profit.
"If you wish, you can discuss the details directly with Kakuzu. His price is high, but his results are guaranteed."
Ryosuke clenched his fists, trembling. "Fine… I'll pay!" he spat between his teeth.
He didn't have a choice. He'd already invested too much. Backing out now would mean losing everything.
His voice cracked with desperation. "What are those damn kids doing now!?"
The manager glanced at a folded report, opened it, and replied simply,
"The targets are resting — they seem concerned there are spies like you within the Konoha outpost."
…
And high above the forest, perched on a tree branch, Hiroki quietly opened his notebook.
Rows of copied jutsu flickered to life across the screen.
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