As the horizon revealed the first light of dawn, Jiraiya pushed open the wooden door of a civilian house and stepped out with a satisfied expression.
Although he had not slept all night, he remained full of energy.
Once you were past your prime, pulling an all-nighter was still doable—especially if, like Jiraiya, you refused to admit you were getting old.
As he left the room behind, silence returned once again. Peeking through the slightly open door, the interior appeared empty except for four tattered chairs.
The chairs were very old, their surfaces marked with numerous signs of corrosion. But what drew attention most were the four people seated on them.
These four individuals were in fact Akatsuki spies planted inside the River Country.
Yet right now, they sat slumped over like dying dogs, their eyes mostly whites filled with tangled blood vessels—resembling what Saitama would call "zombie eyes."
A full night of interrogation plus Jiraiya's rather brutal methods had reduced these men to drooling idiots, their IQs lowered to below that of a three-year-old child.
Jiraiya walked away without sparing another glance at the four. It was no longer his problem. The location remained quite secluded anyway; it would probably be days before anyone discovered them, by which time they couldn't possibly affect him.
By then, he'd likely already left with the intel he'd acquired.
After spending half the night digging through their minds, Jiraiya finally managed to extract some useful information.
Among them was a man named Tsugure. At the moment Jiraiya captured him, realizing escape was impossible, Tsugure attempted to bite down on a poison capsule hidden between his teeth to kill himself, preventing any leakage of secrets. Luckily, Jiraiya reacted fast enough to dislocate his jaw and stop him just in time.
From the gathered intel, Jiraiya finally learned the name of this mysterious organization:
[Akatsuki], meaning "dawn"—symbolizing not just a new beginning, but a turning point in the world's balance!
Unfortunately, no further or deeper information could be extracted because strong curses had been placed within their minds to prevent such leaks.
However, one piece did cheer Jiraiya—he learned that later today, a core member of the [Akatsuki] would arrive to collect the quarterly tax.
And perhaps more importantly, the missing intel these low-ranking grunts possessed might be obtainable through this arriving "core member."
According to Minato's earlier reports and Jiraiya's own knowledge, even that brat Saitama belonged to this level within the organization. Therefore, Jiraiya found himself quite excited about meeting this soon-to-arrive figure.
This alone explained why, despite not gaining much intel, Jiraiya remained so satisfied.
Lower-level henchmen knew only limited things; to truly understand the mysteries and intentions of this secretive group, it was clear that capturing a core member would be necessary—to pry those truths straight from their minds.
Jiraiya quickly vanished from the area, carrying the time and place of the upcoming afternoon meeting with the Akatsuki core operative—information he had finally pried from the mouths of his victims.
Even though he didn't know who would be coming, Jiraiya still felt confident enough to go check things out. After all, he was one of the legendary Sannin—a Frog Sage no less—and hailed from Mount Myoboku!
Right now, what he needed most was to find a place to eat something and rest for a while, restoring his body to peak condition.
...
On the outskirts of Musashi Castle stood the Samurai Pavilion, originally constructed to honor those warriors who had fought to the death for the River Country during the Warring States Era.
But after such a long time, this place had also fallen into ruin.
The Samurai Pavilion occupied more than one hectare of land. Calling it a pavilion was somewhat inaccurate—referring to it as a small shrine might actually be more appropriate.
Although abandoned, many spirit tablets remained here, belonging to various unknown samurai who were laid to rest within these walls after death.
Neglect had taken its toll—some spirit tablets were cracked or broken, while others stood untouched but buried under thick webs...
It was around three o'clock in the afternoon. There were still about half an hour left until the scheduled handover time.
The sunlight wasn't too intense during the afternoon, but because of its geographical location, the wind blew quite strongly. Fortunately, the temperature wasn't too low, making it fairly tolerable.
Surrounding the Samurai Pavilion was a ruined courtyard paved with finely cut stone slabs, once smooth and flat. However, due to years of neglect and lack of maintenance, the stonework now appeared uneven, cracked in places, with weeds and wildflowers beginning to sprout through the gaps.
Clack! Clack! Clack! Footsteps rang out across the courtyard. Down one path, two figures emerged from the shadows.
Treading upon the stony courtyard floor, one figure carried a large, exaggerated red-and-white scythe; the other's face was mostly wrapped in cloth, revealing only strangely textured skin stitched together with black thread.
They shared one thing in common: both wore Black Cloaks Bearing Red Clouds and donned sand-covering hats that shielded their faces from the wind and sand.
"Tch… This is such a waste of time. Why can't we just head back instead of wasting our day fetching some dumb offering gold?"
As the two figures approached closer, the one carrying the scythe spoke first, his tone full of disdain.
He was none other than Hidan, one of Akatsuki's Three Puppets!
Now that Hidan's identity was clear, so too was that of the other man—Kakuzu, known as Hokuto of Akatsuki!
"How would you ever understand the true value of money, you brainwashed lunatic!" Hearing Hidan look down on his decision, Kakuzu instantly fired back without showing any weakness.
This was simply the everyday behavior between the two—only another member of the Immortal Duo could act this way toward him.
Because neither could kill the other, they could only bicker to fill the emptiness inside.
"You know nothing of Lord Jashin's power!" Though younger in age, Hidan showed no respect for seniority whatsoever.
"Hmph..." Dangerous glimmers flickered repeatedly within Kakuzu's jade-green eyes. Hidden beneath his baggy sleeves, his fists clenched tightly then loosened again—but ultimately failed to strike forward and smash that annoying face of Hidan's.
Because he had tried before, and it hadn't worked. At most, it would only make Hidan cry out in pain—and pain was exactly what Hidan loved to see.
This little religious fanatic did have a sharp tongue and more than a few mental problems, but in other aspects, they actually got along quite well.
Kakuzu shot him a sidelong glare, suppressing his urge to punch Hidan, while continuing to move forward.
"This place is such crap!"
Ignoring Kakuzu's expression, Hidan looked around and sighed.
"It's just run-down. It used to be pretty famous, with people coming and going all the time."
Kakuzu sounded slightly sentimental. Decades ago, this place had actually been quite nice. He never expected it'd fall into such a state by now.
"What about people? Why haven't they arrived yet?" Unaffected by Kakuzu's nostalgic tone, Hidan took three steps in two strides and sat himself on the stairs at the entrance of the Samurai Pavilion. He carelessly tossed his scythe aside, which landed with a clanking noise.
"Not in a hurry. It's still not time yet." Kakuzu stood by the doorway, looking upward at the pointed roof of the Pavilion as he slowly spoke.
He actually had tons of patience when it came to money. Time meant nothing to him—not in a life already this long, with no end in sight.
Sure, time is money, but waiting just a little while longer—yeah, he could handle that! Though...
"If it has to come to this, I'll only kill half of them. After all, bringing me the cash isn't easy work either!"
Looking toward Musashi Castle, Kakuzu silently made a decision, as if one fleeting thought determined the fate of many lives.
If you're making me wait, then you should have the courage to face the consequences, right? This was Kakuzu's thinking—an outlook perhaps unusual, yet somehow perfectly fitting for his personality.
After all, he was exactly the kind of unpredictable, lawless guy who wouldn't hesitate killing someone or two.
At worst, Konan would nag at him a little on the way back!
In the end, Kakuzu recalled that blue-haired woman who played with paper and always acted like she was superior.
Wind swept through the courtyard in front of the Samurai Pavilion, picking up dead weeds and kicking up dry dust.
The smell of the earth was strange—some odd scent reminding Kakuzu of how his hands smelled when he caught frogs as a child.
"That's weird..."
Kakuzu had lived this long not solely thanks to [Earth Grudge Fear], but also because of his naturally cautious character.
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