"Eighty years?!"
Morino Eaton's mouth twitched violently once again. For a moment, he was truly at a loss for words.
"Qingyu... keep it up, then!"
Eaton raised his right hand, instinctively wanting to give Qingyu a supportive pat on the shoulder. But then, he remembered the boy's frail constitution. The kid had just survived a "furious" warm-up, followed immediately by three minutes of intense training. He was likely in a state of extreme physical depletion.
Eaton's hand froze mid-air. He didn't dare drop it.
I better not accidentally break a subordinate with such high morale!
Without a word, Eaton retracted his hand and walked past Qingyu. As he left, he replayed the boy's words in his head and couldn't help but find it slightly comical.
"Eighty years... This kid really talks big! How many ninjas even live to see eighty?"
Eaton shook his head. He felt Qingyu had a skewed perception of life expectancy, especially within the Torture Force. It might look like they weren't on the front lines, but they were standing in an even harsher battlefield.
Seeing that Eaton had finally lowered his guard, Qingyu felt much lighter. He headed straight back to the Anbu dorms.
Once there, he washed off the sweat, laundered his ninja suit, and finally felt a wave of fatigue hit him. This was the first time since arriving in the Naruto world that he felt truly tired.
"Sleep!"
He didn't hesitate. To train well, one must rest well. Tomorrow would be another cycle of memory reading and physical exertion.
The next day, Qingyu arrived at his workspace earlier than scheduled.
Just like before, a pile of corpses awaited him. These bodies had been treated by the Medical Corps using a special process to delay decomposition and eliminate odors.
"I'll just count them first..."
Qingyu grinned. This excuse was incredibly versatile. Even though Yamanaka Yuta hadn't arrived yet, it didn't stop him from using it to begin his work.
One. Two. Three... Twelve.
Twelve corpses in total. Qingyu touched each one in succession. Memory after memory flooded his brain—files neatly sorted into folders in his mind, waiting to be "screened."
Simultaneously, the electronic voice of the "Ding-Boss" rang out repeatedly. Jutsu after jutsu integrated into his consciousness. As long as he willed it, he could use them at any moment.
Qingyu was starting to get used to this. He hadn't encountered any high-level "big shots" yet, so the rewards were mostly standard D-rank and C-rank five-element Ninjutsu.
"Time to start working!"
He said it to himself and to the empty air. He lifted the top corpse, placed it on the cold iron bed, closed his eyes, and struck a pose. He didn't use the Yamanaka secret arts; instead, he simply flipped through the downloaded "files."
Half an hour later, Yamanaka Yuta walked in. Seeing Qingyu already hard at work, a look of gratification appeared on his face. He didn't disturb the boy, simply lifted another body and began his own probe.
Time passed. Soon, it was lunch break.
However, Yuta was still deep in a probe. He had one last body on his table and wanted to finish before resting. Qingyu, on the other hand, opened his eyes first.
Just as I thought.
A look of realization flashed in Qingyu's eyes. These memories shared many commonalities:
1. Every victim was a prisoner in Konoha Prison.
2. They were all nearing the end of their sentences—the latest release date among them was only six months away.
3. None of their memories showed anything suspicious before death. No arguments, no enemies made in prison, no strange events.
It was sudden death. Massive, concentrated, sudden death.
Qingyu had found the pattern, but the culprit was still invisible. Who administered the poison? How? It wasn't the food, because while all prisoners ate the same meals, only these specific people died.
Strange... Qingyu felt like he was on the verge of a breakthrough, but he couldn't quite grasp it.
"Phew..."
Yuta exhaled heavily and opened his eyes, which were clouded with exhaustion.
"Any findings?" Yuta looked at Qingyu. His tone held no real expectation. He had probed several bodies himself and found suspicious points but no actual breakthrough. He was just asking out of habit.
"No," Qingyu shook his head. As long as Yuta didn't tell him what the specific mission was, he would continue to play dead until the end.
"Go rest then." Yuta waved him off. The back-to-back probes had drained him. He walked out without even bothering to double-check Qingyu's work this time.
"Yes, sir."
During lunch, Qingyu stayed in his dorm and did push-ups and squat jumps. He didn't go to the woods; it was daylight, and he couldn't afford to be too conspicuous.
When Qingyu returned in the afternoon, the room was empty of bodies.
"No more?" Qingyu asked Yuta, confused. From what he'd seen in the memories, there should have been many more victims.
"Our mission is over," Yuta said gravely.
"Ah?"
Qingyu blinked. His first instinct was that someone had cracked the case. His curiosity was piqued. What happened? How did they solve it?
He hesitated for a moment, then pursed his lips. "What do we do next?"
He didn't ask about the corpses. If the mission was over, it had nothing to do with him. Curiosity killed the cat.
"Aren't you even curious?" This time, it was Yuta's turn to be confused. He looked at Qingyu, wondering if this boy was perhaps too detached from reality.
"Not curious!"
Qingyu shook his head firmly. He had suppressed every curious thought. He knew working in the Torture Force meant some things were better left unasked. The more you know, the more dangerous it becomes.
He could know things secretly, but he could never let anyone know that he knew.
[End of Chapter 22]