Super Ninja

Ayamane and Shiko returned with me and the captain, their faces completely pale, expressions filled with dread. The reason? The captain had finally forced them to behead the four prisoners. Unfortunately, the blade was dull, so there wasn’t a single clean strike. They had to deliver multiple blows, like lumberjacks chopping through tough, unyielding wood.

 

For the girls, this was a huge shock, and they’ll need a few days to recover. As for me... I didn’t feel anything from what I saw. Not in my heart, not even in my stomach—no unease at all. I’m not sure if that’s how I’m supposed to feel or if something is wrong with me.

 

I didn’t focus on it for long, of course, and returned to my duties as a guard. The caravan didn’t stay in one place for long. All the prisoners were tied up in two columns and fastened to the last wagon. They were to walk the entire way to the next town or village.

 

The merchants, as expected, didn’t forget to strip them of any valuables. By the rules, they were supposed to share the loot with us, which they did immediately. We could choose our payment either in money or goods, meaning the captured items. Following the captain’s lead, I chose money.

 

The girls completely refused their shares in my favor, which was a bit surprising... but I had no reason to complain. The money I received from the merchants, both for myself and the girls, wasn’t much, but it was enough to live for a month in Konoha, as long as I didn’t splurge on expensive, high-quality items and saved on food.

 

No one went looking for the enemy camp because we simply didn’t have the time. As shinobi, we probably could have done it... but without knowing what lay ahead, it would have been a risky move.

 

Our next stop was in a forest. The dark sky was hidden by tall tree branches with broad leaves, creating even more darkness where nothing could be seen without torches. In this situation, having someone from the Hyuga clan with their Byakugan, or perhaps someone from the Inuzuka clan, would have been ideal for guarding.

 

My vision wasn’t much use in such darkness, nor was Shiko’s or Ayamane’s, so we had to rely more on our hearing and our senses of the surrounding environment. I think this night is perfect for training our sensory skills.

 

We didn’t anticipate a human attack in such a forest, but chakra beasts were a different story. As soon as we ventured deeper, these beasts began to dominate the area. For instance, there was a panther that could create its own illusory clones, and a snail that slithered past us so quickly that I had to rub my eyes, hoping it wasn’t a genjutsu. For a moment, it seemed like the snail had some kind of engine instead of a shell, emitting dark smoke.

 

“Captain,” I asked Kiochi-sensei, “what kind of snail was that?”

 

“That,” he replied, glancing at me briefly, “was a Diesel-Snail. They say if you drink its blood, you can boost your reaction speed for a few seconds. But the consequences... aren’t particularly pleasant.”

 

“Oh,” was all I could manage, “do they make any medical preparations from them?”

 

“If I’m not mistaken, part of their organs is used as an ingredient in Akimichi pills,” answered the captain. “But I don’t know exactly how they use them. These snails are quite harmless.”

 

We encountered several other chakra beasts as well. Some were extremely dangerous, even for jonin, while others could potentially be tamed. For instance, there was a rat that emitted yellow lightning, a turtle that could shoot water while cursing, and a bird that could drop its feathers like arrows. The variety of chakra beasts is immense, and a lifetime wouldn’t be enough to study them all.

 

“Sensei,” Ayamane asked when the caravan stopped due to two chakra-deer mating right on the road, “can shinobi use these chakra beasts for anything?”

 

She and Shiko had recovered enough after a few days on the road to finally speak normally again.

 

“Yes, they can,” he replied. “Chakra beasts can be used in traps, like slugs that suck chakra, or sent out for tracking and hunting. There’s also a less common art known as summoning.”

 

“Summoning?” Shiko’s interest was piqued. “We covered something like that at the Academy. Or... maybe not. I don’t remember.”

 

“We did,” Ayamane confirmed.

 

“Summoning is a jutsu that involves a contract between a shinobi and a chakra beast, where the beast is called upon in exchange for chakra,” the captain reminded us. “It’s an unpopular technique because you never know what condition the summoned beast will be in. It’s better to find chakra beasts with well-developed intelligence that can learn or already understand human language. Otherwise, summoning isn’t worth the risk.”

 

A few nights later, light chakra control training was reintroduced into our routine. Sensei decided that since we had extra time, we could use it for training. I didn’t mind, and neither did the girls.

 

Our exit from the forest was sudden and somewhat unexpected. One moment we were walking through the trees, and then, bam... a long plain with small hills stretched out before us. The two weeks we spent crossing it were relatively useful. We trained our chakra control, but little else. The prisoners, now much less plump, were ready for any chance to rest and recover.

 

And of course, near the forest lay a large, bustling city.

 

The city of Ryu, the capital of the Kyomori prefecture, was a remarkable blend of ancient and modern. It was located along the vast Shinoya River, whose waters sparkled in the morning sun. On one bank stood old wooden buildings adorned with exquisite carvings—the homes of the wealthy. On the opposite bank were the dwellings of the poor and working class.

 

The narrow streets of Ryu were paved with cobblestones and wound between traditional shops and tea houses, where rare varieties of tea and fragrant sweets were sold. The markets were full of flowers, fresh fruits, and fish just caught in the Shinoya River. In the center of the city was the majestic palace of the prefecture's ruler, with its beautiful gardens, where sakura blossoms could be seen in spring. The current head of the prefecture is a close relative of the daimyo.

 

As the day began to wane and the last rays of the sun gilded the distant mountain peaks, our caravan slowed its pace at the foot of the city of Ryū. We stopped on a spacious clearing surrounded by low hills, where we could set up camp for the night. The city of Ryū loomed on the horizon, and we could have entered it if our path hadn’t lain in a different direction.

 

At the moment when we began to unload the pack animals and prepare to rest, a group of samurai appeared from behind the surrounding hills. They approached with dignity and confidence, their armor gleaming in the setting sun, and their faces showed focused calm.

 

Captain Kiochi stepped forward, folding his hands and waiting for them to approach. After some time, the samurai arrived.

 

Standing before Captain Kiochi, the samurai, whose name remained unknown to me, looked like the embodiment of ancient warrior honor and strength. He was taller than average, and he stood straight, like an ancient tree, unyielding to the winds of fate. His dark armor, covered in patterns that shimmered in the rays of the setting sun, bore golden accents, reminding of the grandeur and status of his position.

 

The samurai’s face was partially hidden under a mask, leaving only his eyes exposed. These eyes were calm and insightful, as if he could see not only the surface reality but also the deep motives of a person. His hair was tied in a neat knot, emphasizing the strictness and discipline characteristic of a warrior of his caliber.

 

The samurai’s sword was attached to his belt in such a way that it signaled his readiness for instant action. He possessed a natural grace and confidence that became evident in every movement.

 

“Captain,” the samurai immediately addressed the jonin. He quickly understood the rank of our sensei in this squad and showed enough respect.

 

“Commander Hiroto, in accordance with the laws of Konoha, we hand over these prisoners to you,” said the captain to the samurai. They know each other, I’ll remember that. Just like the samurai’s name. “They attacked travelers and caravans, including ours.”

 

“Excellent,” the samurai nodded and finally looked at the prisoners. “Very good. We were in need of additional forces.”

 

“Take them.”

 

The samurai squad quickly tied up the prisoners and began leading them away. The captured bandits could no longer show any emotions. They had neither the strength nor the opportunity, as the samurai hurried them along. After a while, they started leaving, and Commander Hiroto handed over a small paper packet.

 

Inside the packet was money, which he gave to the merchants, and then the remainder was given to us. It was less than what I received when the criminals were searched, but even so... not a bad profit in addition to the payment for the mission.

 

We entered the deeper part of the Land of Fire, known for its safety. The next big city was Koro. Along the way, there were other small towns and villages, but they were not as important in trade as Ryū or Koro.

 

There were no more attacks on us, which was quite pleasant. Of course, we trained more in chakra control than in physical capabilities, but even such a small increase in strength was noticeable. When we reached an even safer area, the captain gave us additional weights to wear every day until we arrived at the border of Koro.

 

The city of Koro was already on a peninsula, and therefore differed slightly from all others in its climatic conditions. The geography here was quite flat, with various flooded marshes teeming with all sorts of wildlife. Here, you could encounter snakes, crocodiles, and many other animals.

 

The city itself is quite large because it is at the crossroads of several trade routes. One route leads directly to the Land of Bears, the second leads to the Land of Tea through the city of Hashi, which is our destination. The third route connects the peninsula with the mainland part of the Land of Fire. This is the route we took.

 

The security here was quite noticeable, with many people and caravans encountered, as well as various settlements and even farmsteads. There, people were engaged in all sorts of farming, from crop cultivation to livestock. The city of Koro was surrounded by a high wall because it is also the first large city that could be targeted if a war with the Land of Water were to begin. The Land of Bears, which is a small buffer, could fall quickly and hopelessly. There were also quite a few shinobi here, but not so many that it was impossible to pass through.

 

The merchants didn’t enter the city but couldn’t ignore the opportunity to trade at a small market. The caravan stopped among others like it, and the merchants immediately took several wagons and headed to their trading spots. They quickly negotiated to rent a stall for a day with the local overseer.

 

I was sent to observe and learn, which I didn’t particularly mind. The stall itself was very simple. It was a large table covered with colorful fabric. The merchants placed the bandits’ weapons on the table because they were planning to sell them. This immediately attracted the attention of the locals because who doesn’t want to buy some extra weaponry, especially if it’s not priced exorbitantly?

 

The market was quite lively, and Zoro Mugiwara, a merchant from the Land of Iron, decided to put several blades up for sale. The first buyer appeared immediately. Zoro actively discussed the price with the first customer, masterfully playing on the desire to sell at a higher price.

 

The customer was a middle-aged man, dressed in practical but worn clothes, which indicated his modest status. His face, covered with a network of fine wrinkles, spoke of many days spent under the sun, and the deep furrows on his forehead reflected his habit of contemplation and concern.

 

The buyer’s hair was cut short and starting to gray at the temples, giving him an appearance of maturity and experience. His dark, sharp eyes carefully examined each item before purchasing, reflecting caution and pragmatism.

 

Around his neck hung an ancient amulet, perhaps a family heirloom, which he occasionally touched unconsciously during the bargaining, as if seeking support or confidence in his decisions. His hands were strong and calloused, speaking of hard work, perhaps in the fields or in craft production.

 

“Look here, this sword is a true work of art,” said Zoro Mugiwara, lifting one of the swords and showing off its shine. “Made from the finest steel. I simply cannot let it go for a pittance.”

 

The buyer weighed the sword in his hands, carefully examining it. He made a few swings and shook his head slightly.

 

“Zoro-san, I understand, but your price... My ancestors would be outraged if I spent so much,” he said.

 

“Your ancestors would be proud that you chose quality!” Zoro Mugiwara countered. “And your children will be grateful for such an inheritance. A sword is not just a weapon; it’s an investment in the future.”

 

“But the gods of trade will never forgive me for such expenses,” the buyer tried to convince the merchant. “Perhaps you could make an exception for me?”

 

“In the name of all the gods, I promise you that this is the best deal you can find!” Zoro Mugiwara responded energetically. “But as a sign of my respect for you, I’m willing to make a small concession.”

 

“What are you saying!” replied the buyer. “It’s too expensive!”

 

“By the honor of my ancestors, I cannot sell these swords for less!” Zoro Mugiwara exclaimed, raising his hands to the sky. “Let the spirits of my ancestors be witnesses that I speak the truth!”

 

The buyer, looking doubtfully at the swords, replied, “And let my future children forgive me for such an expense. But, Zoro-san, you must understand that every coin is worth its weight in gold to me!”

 

“Let the gods of trade witness our words!” Zoro Mugiwara continued. “But look at this engraving, at the blade’s craftsmanship! These swords are not just weapons; they are heritage!”

 

“May the gods be merciful to me,” said the buyer in agreement. “I’m ready to buy them, but let my family not reproach me for this decision.”

 

Their trade was full of fervent convictions and oaths. They invoked all the gods and spirits as witnesses to their words, and oaths about the honor of ancestors and future generations filled the air.

 

Finally, Zoro Mugiwara made a step forward, conceding on the price but maintaining his dignity. The buyer, satisfied with the bargaining, extended his hand in agreement.

 

“Deal,” he said.

 

“Deal,” Zoro Mugiwara repeated, and their handshake sealed the agreement.

 

The surrounding people, sensing the end of the trade, nodded approvingly, and some even applauded, pleased with the successful transaction. In this world, trading was not just an exchange of goods but a true art. I had never seen such lively trading as I did now.

 

In short, the sword was sold for roughly the same amount that our entire team was paid for a D-rank mission. Not a particularly large sum, but not small either.

 

“What do you think of our trading?” Zoro asked me when the buyer left, holding the sword happily.

 

“Amazing, to be honest,” I replied. “It was very lively. Just like a performance.”

 

“And that’s how it should be,” said Itadori from the Land of Waterfalls. “The main thing in sales is to sell your product. If you need to dance with a tambourine to sell something at a good price, then you dance and make sure to do it with flair.”

 

“I see.”

 

They traded for several more hours, selling all the weapons. To my surprise, they were in quite high demand.

 

“Do you always trade weapons?” I asked the merchants when they were closing their stall.

 

“No,” Yuji shook his head negatively. “To sell weapons all the time, you need a special permit from the daimyo, the head of the prefecture, and the city. It’s a very long and costly process.”

 

“But you were selling just now,” I waved my hand toward the customers.

 

“Because there are several markets where you can buy a temporary permit from the overseer, which is valid for a limited time,” Yuji replied. “There are only five such markets in the entire Land of Fire. The permit isn’t cheap, and if you can’t sell all the weapons, you have to hand them over to licensed weapon merchants by the weight of the metal.”

 

“And how much does such a permit cost?” I asked.

 

“I’ll say only one thing,” Zoro replied. “Our net profit is twenty percent. Ten percent for each of us.”

 

A quick calculation in my head, and I get a small sum. They earned as much as I get for completing five D-rank missions. And considering that they had to give us a share of the weapon sales, they earned as much as I get for one and a half D-rank missions. Not too bad.

 

“I see,” I nodded. “It seems that trading weapons at such markets isn’t always a profitable business.”

 

“What can you do,” Yuji shrugged. “It all depends on what kind of weapon you’re selling.”

 

Well, that’s understandable. If the weapon is made of ordinary iron or steel, then the price is one thing. But if the weapon is made of chakra-conducting steel, then the prices are entirely different. I remember seeing a sword in a weapon shop in Konoha, made of chakra-conducting steel. To buy it, I would have had to complete fifty C-rank missions. In short, a very expensive pleasure.