Orochimaru didn't end up leaving.
No way Ebara would let such a strong ally go.
He led the duo toward the Suzuki Hot Spring Inn.
The inn, tucked away in a remote corner, had few guests—perfect for hiding.
"Got a battle plan?" Orochimaru asked.
"Yeah, bust in and beat that jerk to a pulp," Jiraiya growled.
"Details," Ebara said, exasperated.
"Open the door, bust in, beat that jerk to a pulp," Jiraiya elaborated.
Ebara and Orochimaru rolled their eyes. Real detailed.
Jiraiya wasn't brainless, so why was he this dumb today?
Looking at him, Ebara thought, "Jerking too much does make you stupid."
"I've got a plan. Tell me if it works," Ebara said, whispering it to them.
"It's perverse, but… doable," Jiraiya said, regaining some sense.
"Alright, settled. I'll talk to the owner. You two sneak in later," Ebara instructed.
He strode into the inn. The chubby, fifty-something owner was hunched over the counter, reading, chuckling sleazily.
"Heh… heh heh…"
"This book's amazing…"
"This Lanling Xiaoxiaosheng guy's a genius."
"Whoa…"
The owner gasped in awe.
"What're you reading?" Ebara asked, leaning in.
It was Golden House Lover, the book he and Jiraiya made to prank Koharu (Chapter 29).
After Koharu learned of its scandalous content, she banned it village-wide.
But where there's a ban, there's a workaround. Copies still circulated underground.
"Postpartum Care for Sows," the owner said calmly.
"Boss, I'm not that gullible," Ebara said.
"Why would I lie?"
The owner flipped to the cover.
Ebara gawked. Sure enough, it said Postpartum Care for Sows.
"Damn! That's how they disguise it now?" Ebara said, stunned.
"You didn't know?" the owner said, eyeing him disdainfully.
"Sorry, I'm out of the loop."
"Ebara, you don't show up unless you need something. What's up?" the owner asked, leaning back.
"Boss, your forehead's dark, eyes dull. Looks like bad omens," Ebara bluffed.
"Yup, my wife's," the owner said, pulling a "bad omen" (his wife's rolling pin) from behind.
Ebara's mouth twitched.
Not playing fair.
And what's with old folks these days? So wild?
The owner gave him a look: "I'm ignoring your act."
"Fine, truth time," Ebara said. "Three Anbu were killed. The enemy's hiding in your inn."
He stared, waiting for the owner's reaction.
The owner sighed, calmly pulling a black cloth bundle from under the counter.
"Old buddy, time to hit the scene again!" he said.
Ebara blinked, dumbfounded.
What, you're Konoha's hidden master? A war-era legend?
As the owner unwrapped the bundle, he said, "Ebara, know what's key to surviving this world?"
"Unmatched strength?" Ebara guessed.
The owner shook his head.
"Unshakable connections?"
Another shake.
"Endless wealth?"
Nope.
"Loyal brothers?"
Still no.
"Then what?" Ebara asked.
"Running faster than everyone else," the owner said sagely.
He revealed the bundle—not a legendary weapon, but a pair of shoes.
"Back in the Warring States and First Ninja War, these shoes saved me. Countless heroes turned to dust, but I'm still laughing atop the skies."
He grinned, smug as if he'd crushed armies with a chuckle.
He slipped on the shoes, ready to bolt.
"Come back!" Ebara grabbed him.
Letting him flee would tip off the enemy.
"Hey, let go!" the owner yelped, losing his cool. "Wait any longer, and we're dead! He killed elite Anbu!"
"You'll blow our cover if you run now," Ebara snapped. "Wait a bit."
"Too late then!"
"Let go!"
The owner's face reddened.
"No way," Ebara said. "Where's your Will of Fire? Fed it to the dogs?"
At "Will of Fire," the owner froze.
"You mean the Will of Fire?"
Ebara nodded eagerly. "Yeah!"
The owner doubled down. "Then I really gotta run."
Ebara gaped. "Why?"
"Where leaves dance, the fire burns eternal," the owner said proudly. "I gotta dance outta here to keep that fire burning!"
Ebara: …You're just trash.
"Boss, you're safe, trust me. And at fifty-plus, shouldn't passing the Will of Fire be for the young?"
"Young man, you're narrow-minded. I'm over fifty, sure, but I can marry a twenty-year-old, have a dozen kids, and pass the Will of Fire that way!"
Ebara's mind flashed: You old dog, still the boss.
As he scrambled for a reply, a figure descended from the second floor—the owner's wife.
"Who said something about a twenty-year-old girl?" she asked.
"Him!" the owner pointed at Ebara.
Ebara: "????"
The wife turned to him. "Kid, this is a proper hot spring inn."
Ebara wilted.
Never said it wasn't!
He opened his mouth to explain, but she leaned in, rubbing her fingers. "So, you gotta pay extra."
Ebara was floored.
What kinda place is this?!
"Ma'am, I'm not here for fun," he said.
She patted his shoulder, all charm. "I get it. Your lonely soul needs a warm harbor, right? I'll find you a big-chested one."