"Yes, sir!"
Aoki nodded immediately. On the surface, he remained as calm as a frozen lake, but internally, he couldn't help but roast the situation.
Good grief! So this is the 'Spirit of the Torture Force.'
It's basically the '996' blessing! What boss wouldn't love an employee who works hard, endures hardship, and puts in unpaid overtime without a peep?
"Aoki, go back and rest. I'll handle things here," Morino Eaton said, giving Aoki a deep, meaningful look. He knew the boy had just used the Yamanaka secret arts; both his chakra and mental energy must be near their limits. It was time for him to recover.
"Understood."
Aoki turned to leave. He felt no lingering attachment to this dark little room. He wasn't a workaholic; he was a memory hunter. Now that there was no one left to "read," staying was pointless.
Besides, he had a feeling Captain Eaton was about to use some... significantly more visceral methods on Kuri.
"Wait!"
Eaton's voice rang out just as Aoki reached the door. Aoki froze in his tracks. He didn't ask questions; he simply waited for the next command.
"Take this."
Eaton pulled a fist-sized black pouch from his trench coat. It looked heavy. He tossed it toward Aoki with a casual flick.
The pouch traced a perfect arc through the air, landing accurately in Aoki's hands.
"The Anbu cafeteria food is too bland. Go treat yourself to a good meal. Consider it a bonus for this mission," Eaton said with a wide, rare grin.
"Thank you, Captain Eaton!"
Aoki caught the pouch, the distinct clinking of metal coins confirming its contents. He didn't decline—he gave a sincere word of thanks.
"Go on, then."
Eaton waved him off. Although the spy Kuri infuriated him, the satisfaction of rooting out such a deep-seated rot made him feel generous. He wasn't about to mistreat a subordinate as useful as Aoki.
Aoki stepped out of the Torture Force, the pouch of coins gripped in his hand. He didn't head back to the Anbu dorms.
This was a rare chance to go out—funded by the department and perfectly justified. He wasn't about to waste it.
Since arriving in the ninja world, Aoki had been living on a knife's edge of caution, terrified of showing even the slightest flaw. He had been moving in a straight line between the underground prison and his dim dormitory. He hadn't truly seen Konoha yet.
Stepping out now didn't mean he was getting reckless. On the contrary, since Captain Eaton had specifically told him to go eat, not going might actually raise more eyebrows.
Adhering to his principle of caution: he would take the Captain's money and eat something delicious.
By the time Aoki emerged from the underground facility, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon. The twilight glow painted the clouds in shades of fiery orange and deep violet. A cool evening breeze brushed against his face, marking the first time he truly felt the "light" side of this world.
"Let's go to Ichiraku Ramen!"
The first place that came to mind was the spot Naruto had advertised a thousand times in the series.
Even though Naruto wouldn't be born for another decade, Aoki knew from his inherited memories that Ichiraku was already a staple of the village.
He set off. This was his first time walking the streets of Konoha as a transmigrator, yet thanks to the maps etched into his mind from various memories, it felt as though he had lived here for decades. He moved through the alleys with practiced ease.
Soon, he reached the crossroads where the shop stood. Located in a bustling district in the heart of the village, the shop was surrounded by foot traffic. Light and shadows danced behind the noren curtains, suggesting a full house.
"Quite lively," Aoki muttered, a small smile tugging at his lips.
He enjoyed the atmosphere. It was unlikely he'd get many chances like this once he fully committed to his "996" life in the Torture Force.
He pulled back the curtain.
Immediately, the rich, savory aroma of broth hit him. Inside was a long counter lined with stools, most of which were occupied by people already slurping away.
"Welcome!"
A warm, polite voice reached his ears.
The man speaking wore a crisp white chef's uniform and a hat emblazoned with the red characters for "Ichiraku." He was looking at Aoki with a welcoming, squint-eyed smile.
This was Teuchi, the owner of Ichiraku Ramen.
Currently, he looked to be in his early twenties. He wasn't the "Old Man Ichiraku" Aoki remembered from the anime.
Instead, he was... the Youthful Ichiraku!
"Tonkotsu Ramen," Aoki said, his eyes scanning the menu on the wall. "Make it the deluxe combo, and add an extra egg."
"Coming right up!"
Teuchi's eyes brightened with a flash of professional joy. He immediately set to work on the noodles.
Aoki found a seat in a quiet corner, away from the main crowd. Perhaps the Anbu influence was already taking hold; despite wanting to enjoy the bustle, he found he didn't actually want to be in it. He was content to watch the world from a distance.
Ttap, ttap, ttap...
Just then, the sound of hurried, disorganized footsteps approached from outside. It clearly wasn't just one person.
"Big Brother Teuchi! Two bowls, the usual!"
The voice arrived before the person did. The speaker sounded impatient, driven by a desperate hunger.
"You got it!"
Teuchi didn't even have to look up. He recognized the voice of his loyal regular instantly.
Wait...
Aoki's brow furrowed. For a split second, that voice felt incredibly familiar.
However, he couldn't quite place the identity. It wasn't someone he had met since arriving; it was a fragment of a memory from his predecessor.
While Aoki was still trying to piece it together, the curtain was pulled back.
Two young ninjas wearing Konoha forehead protectors stepped inside.
Leading the way was a boy with bright yellow hair and a sun-drenched smile. Behind him followed a girl with a striking red ponytail.
The vivid colors of their hair immediately drew the attention of everyone in the shop—including Aoki.
"Aoki!"
As the yellow-haired boy scanned the room for seats, his sky-blue eyes locked onto Aoki. A look of pure, joyful surprise washed over his face.
[End of Chapter 7]