After a quick bento meal at the Anbu cafeteria, Qingyu returned to the morgue-like office.
Yamanaka Yuta was already there. He hadn't rested; instead, he was meticulously re-examining the memories of the three corpses Qingyu had handled that morning. It seemed the veteran didn't quite trust the "unreliable" newcomer yet and feared he might have missed a crucial detail.
"Back so early?" Yuta frowned, a hint of displeasure on his face. Is this kid not listening? I told him to rest.
Yuta had a mountain of complaints in his heart but kept them to himself. It was an awkward situation—not just because Qingyu ignored his advice, but because Qingyu had caught him double-checking his work, exposing his lack of trust.
"Uh..." Qingyu blinked. He didn't mind the double-checking; it was only natural for a senior to be thorough. "I just wanted to see if there was anything I could do. I didn't want to waste time resting."
"With your current physical condition, resting properly is being responsible to your work!" Yuta snapped.
"Alright then." Qingyu nodded. He had hoped to snag a few more memory reads, but it looked like he wouldn't be able to pull it off under Yuta's watchful eye.
"Go rest! We have tasks this afternoon!" Yuta urged, practically shooing him out.
"Yes, sir." Qingyu nodded and stepped out into the hallway. He laid down on a straw mat and closed his eyes. If he had to rest, he might as well enjoy it. Within minutes, he was fast asleep, fully embracing the "office slacker" lifestyle.
Sometime later, a firm shove woke him up.
"Qingyu, time to work!" Yuta's voice brought him back to reality.
"Coming!" Qingyu's face lit up with excitement. More memories meant more rewards. The constant cycle of gaining new abilities made him feel genuinely happy.
See? I told you rest works! Yuta thought, seeing the boy's refreshed energy. Ah, to be young again.
They returned to the room. Now, the floor was piled with over a dozen corpses—more than twice the morning's amount. Qingyu's brow furrowed at the sight.
So many deaths? What is going on?
He didn't recall any mass-death incidents at the Konoha Prison in the original Naruto story. The memories he'd scanned earlier hadn't revealed an obvious cause either, leaving the mystery locked in a blind spot.
"Feeling the pressure of the workload?" Yuta asked, watching him. "This is just practice. If war breaks out, you'll be dealing with the living and the dead simultaneously, with zero time for sleep."
"I'll... just count how many there are first!" Qingyu crouched down and began his ritual, touching each head as if tallying them up.
Yuta watched in silence, a helpless smile on his face. He did this in the morning, too. Is everything still so fresh to him? What a strange kid.
Qingyu's hand moved rapidly, barely touching a head before moving to the next.
[Ding! Memory Reading Successful! Reward: Water Style: Water Bullet Jutsu!]
[Ding! Memory Reading Successful! Reward: Lightning Style: Lightning Clone!]
[Ding! ...]
The electronic chimes rang out over a dozen times. Since these individuals were of average strength—not too weak, but certainly not elites—the rewards were standard five-element Ninjutsu. These techniques were etched directly into his soul; he could use them as naturally as breathing.
As the "downloads" finished, a torrent of memory fragments poured into his brain. He didn't watch them immediately.
"I'm starting now," Qingyu said, "struggling" to lift the top body onto the iron bed. He closed his eyes and began his "standing punishment," pretending to probe the mind while actually sifting through the downloaded data.
Yuta went to work on his own table, satisfied that Qingyu was focused.
As Qingyu suspected, Yuta did have a specific objective. A week ago, prisoners in the Konoha Prison began dying in large numbers. The Medical Corps identified the cause: poisoning. Every victim died from the exact same toxin. Clearly, it was the work of a single person or group. However, the prison guards had seen nothing, and the investigation had hit a dead end.
The bodies were sent to the Torture Force as a last resort. Yuta hadn't told Qingyu about the poison for two reasons: he didn't fully trust Qingyu's skills yet, and he hoped that by not giving the boy a "frame" to look within, Qingyu might notice something unconventional.
Qingyu sat in his "trance," skipping the secret arts and instead flipping through the dozen or so lives he'd just acquired. He wanted to see if his theory was correct.
Thirty minutes later, he moved the first body and prepped the next. He had finished a rough scan of the memories.
Every single person had died a week ago. The timing was identical to the morning's batch.
There is definitely something fishy going on, Qingyu thought. He had no intention of showing off or "solving" the case... but he was bored.
He decided to treat the memories like a puzzle game. It was a bit surreal; he had transmigrated to a world of ninjas, yet here he was, playing detective. As he delved into the fragments of the dead, a catchphrase from another world echoed in his mind:
"There is... only one truth!"