"Ren-kun."
Uchiha Shisui stepped forward and patted Ren on the shoulder. He had keenly observed the slight tremor that had just wracked Ren's body.
Since Shisui had graduated early and was still quite young, he was barely the height of a radish. His attempt at a comforting gesture looked somewhat comical.
"You don't need to worry too much. I didn't expect Elder Setsuna to lead this mission personally. Looking at it this way, the danger level on your side shouldn't be too high."
Shisui smiled warmly, offering words of solace. It was ironic; he had chosen the far more perilous Land of Rain battlefield, yet here he was, comforting Ren.
Ren snapped back to reality and looked at him with a gaze devoid of hope.
Damn it... Not only did you snatch my pig-chasing mission, but you're stealing the best 'death-trap' assignments too? Are you even human?
"Ren-kun, I still have to complete that mission before we assemble tomorrow. I'll take my leave now."
Shisui waved the C-rank scroll he had just secured and vanished. After he left, Ren's eyes flickered with doubt.
The danger level at the Valley of Hell... is it really 'not high'? I wouldn't be so sure about that.
Night fell. A full moon broke through the clouds, bathing the world in a silvery glow.
Within the Uchiha clan compound, Uchiha Setsuna slid open a wooden door, his wooden sandals clattering softly. Inside the small, dimly lit room, dozens of scarlet eyes suddenly ignited in the dark.
"Great Elder!"
Amidst a wave of respectful greetings, Setsuna took his seat cross-legged at the head of the room. Sitting to his side was the second-in-command of the Hawks, Uchiha Yashiro. Below them sat nearly a hundred clansmen—all Chunin level or higher, every single one of them with an active Sharingan.
This was the true foundation of the Hawk faction.
"Great Elder," Yashiro began, his brow furrowed. "Wasn't it decided that we would send a squad of elite warriors to the Land of Hot Water?"
"Why is there a Genin on the list? And a Genin who hasn't even awakened his Sharingan at that? Did you not explain the danger of this mission to the clan?"
Setsuna picked up a teacup and glanced at Yashiro. "I will be heading there personally," he said flatly. "With me there, one person is enough."
"But this isn't just about the Chinoike clan's movements or increasing guard pressure," Yashiro analyzed, his voice tight.
"The Land of Hot Water sits right between the Land of Fire, Lightning, and Water. With the recent skirmishes between the Stone, Sand, and Mist, that region has descended into absolute chaos."
Yashiro shook his head gravely. "International spies, combat units... it's a mess. There are minor organizations like the Xuanyuan, the Hannya, the Jashin Cult, and the remnants of the Haze Village. Then you have the Mist's assassination units, the Stone's Explosion Corps, and Rasa of the Sand, who is hunting for military merit on the Mist front to secure the title of Kazekage. Not to mention the bounty hunters from the Underground Exchange..."
"The place is a boiling pot of madness," Yashiro concluded. He felt Setsuna was being overconfident. In such a situation, even the Third Hokage might struggle to come out unscathed.
Setsuna was an old-school powerhouse from the Warring States period, but taking only one Chunin and a 'trash' Genin seemed reckless.
"Perhaps we should request aid from the village?" Yashiro suggested.
"Enough." Setsuna set his cup down. His tone was calm but carried an absolute weight. "I said, I am enough."
"Yashiro, the garrison mission at the Valley of Hell does not come from Konoha. It is a long-term contract commissioned to the Uchiha by the Daimyo of the Land of Lightning. It is one of our few remaining sources of independent wealth."
Setsuna looked up, his Sharingan glowing with a terrifying chill.
"Never build your sense of security on others. Especially not on Konoha, Sarutobi, or Danzo. Only the things you control yourself truly count. If you accept charity like a dog, they can kick you away the moment they are displeased."
Yashiro fell silent. Shinobi were tools of war detached from production; the Uchiha's wealth came from ancestral holdings and high-level missions accepted by the clan directly. The mission to guard the Chinoike clan paid the equivalent of an S-rank mission every year. It was stable and lucrative.
That was why Setsuna would never allow Konoha to stick their fingers into it.
Click.
Ren had just opened the door to his residence when a soot-covered youth wearing goggles tumbled out of a tree in the yard.
Ren could tell instantly what had happened: the boy had failed his tree-climbing practice due to uneven chakra output.
"Obito, what are you doing now?" Ren sighed.
The intruder was Obito, a boy who had graduated from the Academy just last year. He was also Ren's neighbor.
"Oh, Ren! Haha! I'm just... preparing for the Chunin Exams!" Obito rubbed the back of his head, his expression quickly turning into a scowl.
"That damn Kakashi! He's using his Chunin status to boss me around, making me follow his orders! It was just a simple mission to catch a cat!"
"Once I master this training, I'm going to shove my Chunin flak jacket right in his face!" Obito ranted.
Ren was slightly dazed as he listened. Without realizing it, he had already spent a full year in this relatively peaceful Konoha.
He realized the timeline had reached a critical point. Last year, Obito had formed a team with Kakashi and Rin under Minato Namikaze. They had been doing D-rank missions for a while now.
But Ren knew Obito's wish to become a Chunin this year was likely a pipe dream. The war was about to explode. Minato, as an elite Jonin, would soon be sent to the front lines, and the team would be dragged along with him across the continent.
"What are you dazing off for? Grandma made noodles, come over and eat," Obito said, waving a hand in front of Ren's face.
"Alright. Let me put my stuff away first," Ren replied, accepting the invitation.
On his way back, he had retrieved his pitchfork and boots from the riverbank. However, his sack of recyclable cans—which he planned to sell—had vanished. Some bastard had made off with it.
Ren cursed under his breath. The moral standards of this village are going down the drain. A year ago, this wouldn't have happened. But lately, with the Police Force constantly in meetings due to the impending war, petty theft was on the rise.