"Shut up."
Hachiman kept his voice low, throat tight with frustration. He genuinely did not want to work alongside an idiot like this.
Hitomaru Market—Konoha's polite name for a place everyone knew was human trafficking.
For most outsiders, the first impression the moment they arrived was simple: filthy, chaotic, and miserable.
Most of the "hitomaru" here weren't volunteers. They were people the market had dragged in.
And the person running Hitomaru Market? He didn't feel even a shred of guilt about it.
Because he had backing.
Big backing.
And everyone understood what that meant.
The god of wealth of all Konoha.
That was the top boss over Hitomaru Market.
So even if the market itself didn't bring in much, it wasn't something just anyone could look down on.
That was why Hachiman had never seriously considered escaping from the start.
Shinobi were completely outside what a normal person could deal with, and the market's backer was the kind of despair you didn't fight.
Right now, Hachiman had exactly one goal: stay alive.
Keep breathing.
Then find his little sister—Komachi.
Get her out of this hell.
He wasn't ignorant. He knew Hitomaru Market was for men, and there was another place that took women—the Intake House.
And the Intake House got treated better.
He didn't know why, and he didn't really have the luxury of asking.
Hachiman's daily job was shoveling filth.
An entire alley's worth of it in Hitomaru Market.
His coworker was Kakeru.
A guy who never took anything seriously.
Even in a world like this, that personality hadn't changed.
The only reason he'd toned it down at all was because the overseer's whip had taught him how.
"Hachiman, you don't have to be that on edge, do you?" Kakeru muttered. "Saying a couple words won't get you whipped."
No.
Maybe it wouldn't get him whipped.
But it would lower his standing in the overseer's eyes.
Hachiman let out a slow breath through his nose.
How had he ended up paired with someone this dumb?
He was trying to slowly raise his evaluation, earn some freedom of movement, and then search for Komachi.
He didn't have time to babysit an idiot.
Then, today, Kangetsu showed up at Hitomaru Market—rare enough to feel unreal.
It was his business, after all. He had to check on it sometimes.
He couldn't only visit the Intake House.
From far down the alley, Hachiman caught sight of the "big shot" at the entrance.
His pupils tightened. His heart rate jumped.
He watched several senior overseers rush over, smiling so hard their faces looked painful, scrambling to flatter him.
In Hitomaru Market, the senior overseers were their sky.
At Hachiman's side, Kakeru shut his mouth with perfect timing.
He wasn't actually stupid.
Anyone truly stupid would've been disposed of by Hitomaru Market a long time ago.
Kakeru grabbed Hachiman's arm, eyes locked on the alley entrance, voice pressed down into a tight whisper.
"Hachiman…"
The restraint in that voice caught Hachiman off guard.
This guy really knows how to put on an act…
"Don't do anything extra," Hachiman said quietly.
"What counts as extra?"
Hachiman didn't even look at him.
"What are they, and what are we?"
Kakeru went still.
He got it.
Their status was too low. Even trying to flatter someone like that would come off like a different kind of insult.
Maybe the big shot wouldn't care.
But the senior overseer would.
So Hachiman moved—fast.
His hands and feet turned efficient, almost practiced, like he was trying not to be noticed.
Or like he was doing something so deliberately noticeable it couldn't be ignored.
He carefully pushed the manure cart into the alley corner.
Then he threw a cover cloth over it and tied the corners down hard—knot after knot, cinched tight.
Finally, he dispersed the smell as best he could, then planted himself in the corner like a post, not moving at all.
The whole sequence was smooth, clean, and oddly theatrical.
Kakeru stared, blinking.
…Weren't you just telling me not to do anything extra?
Far down at the alley entrance, Kangetsu stood in the center of a crowd that looked like stars orbiting the moon.
He let out a quiet laugh.
"Interesting," he said.
Then he didn't say anything else, simply leaving Hitomaru Market as if satisfied.
But that one sentence lodged itself deep in the senior overseer's mind.
The bald man's face turned heavy, serious.
He'd noticed where Kangetsu-sama's eyes had drifted.
One of the manure-cart workers had been… unusually "well-behaved."
Only after Kangetsu-sama's back disappeared completely did the senior overseer break into a beaming smile and jog over.
Hachiman caught the little run out of the corner of his eye.
His heart started pounding harder. His fist tightened until his knuckles hurt.
Was he noticed?
Was that good?
Or was it bad?
He'd been impulsive today.
But he couldn't keep waiting.
Komachi—without news of her, he couldn't breathe.
As the senior overseer's footsteps drew closer, the outsiders huddled in the alley corner grew tense, all of them holding their breath.
"You. Yeah, you." The senior overseer pointed. "What's your name?"
Hachiman's heart jerked.
He was sure—absolutely sure—that was meant for him.
He pressed his emotions down hard until his face was still.
This was it.
This was his chance.
"…Overseer-sama, my name is Hachiman. I'm honored you called on me."
Beside him, Kakeru clearly wanted to leave an impression too, but he didn't dare move.
He understood this was Hachiman's moment.
No one else interrupted.
"Very good." The senior overseer nodded, smiling.
The stink was still thick, though, and he didn't want to stand here any longer than necessary.
"How would you like to be a crew lead?"
Not as high as an overseer, but high enough to command a few people.
High enough to gain a slice of autonomy.
Crew lead…?
The alley went strange.
Quiet.
No—dead silent.
So silent Hachiman could hear his own breathing, fast and shallow.
So he could finally walk more than two steps in this pit…
But he couldn't show it. He wouldn't.
He only lowered his posture even further, voice obedient to the point of perfection.
"If Overseer-sama says I can do it, then I can do it."
Oh, this kid talks nice.
The senior overseer nodded again, clearly pleased.
At his level, people said pleasing things to him constantly.
But this one was different.
Because Kangetsu-sama had said, "Interesting."
So this man had to be interesting.
"Good. I'm saying it. Starting today, you're a crew lead."
"Ten people under you."
"Double rations. A private room. And I'll issue you a tantō (dagger)."
"Yes!" Hachiman answered loudly.
Loud enough for the senior overseer to see it—his excitement, his gratitude, his loyalty.
After two more sentences, the senior overseer left.
Too much stink.
What remained behind was the heat slowly building in Hachiman's chest.
"Hachiman!" Kakeru stared at him like he was watching a miracle happen.
Under the gaze of the other outsiders, he gripped Hachiman's arm even harder.
And as those modern outsiders' eyes grew hotter—more eager—Kakeru's grip started to look less like excitement and more like desperation.
Hachiman didn't shake him off.
He needed Kakeru.
He also needed hands.
That was why—
Kakeru's face flushed. His back straightened. His chin lifted like he'd just been promoted too.
"Hachiman, we go this way!"
…Go where?
Hachiman's mouth twitched.
So much for that brief moment of a good evaluation.
Work.
Were they just going to abandon the manure cart now?
"I'll do it! Hachiman, I'll do it!"
"Hachiman, don't worry about it! You're a crew lead now!"
"Hachiman, that side's dirty. Listen to Kakeru—go this way."
In an instant, Hachiman was surrounded.
He didn't like friends like this.
But in this world, he needed friends like this.
"Don't crowd him! Don't crowd him!" Kakeru waved his hands, face shining.
At the same time, he kept a death grip on Hachiman's arm—no intention of letting go.
And under everyone's eyes…
His grip only got tighter.
(End of Chapter)
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