Nanshu Station. Though dawn had just broken, the station town was already bustling. The neighing of pack horses, the groaning of cart axles under heavy loads, and the rough shouts of caravan guards mixed together. The air was thick with the pungent smell of livestock, dust, sweat, and cheap cooking oil. Heavily loaded vehicles clogged the already narrow streets, while hurried porters and merchants weaved between them—a noisy scene of people scrambling to make a living.
Shuji led Itachi and Anko through this boiling crowd. Following the address on the mission scroll, they found their client in the back courtyard of an inn with a weathered "Pine Breeze" sign—cloth merchant Hiroyama Makoto.
Hiroyama Makoto was a typical middle-aged traveling merchant. His slightly plump frame was wrapped in a good-quality but dust-stained dark brown silk robe, and round-framed glasses sat on his round face. Behind the lenses, his eyes rapidly scanned the helpers loading cargo. Six workers carefully loaded bundle after bundle of bright-colored, fine-textured fabrics onto reinforced carts, their movements showing reverence for the precious goods.
Seeing Shuji's trio approach—especially noting Anko in her new dark purple coat with an impatient expression, and Itachi carrying ninja tool packs despite his youthful face—Hiroyama's professional smile instantly froze. A flash of undisguised bewilderment and doubt crossed his eyes.
Two adults and one child? The escorts Konoha sent... just this? That girl looks difficult to deal with, and this boy... is he even ten years old? My batch of Nanshu silk...
Countless thoughts raced through his shrewd mind as his concern for his goods suddenly intensified. However, years of merchant training made him instantly suppress all emotions. Hiroyama quickly plastered on exaggerated enthusiasm, hurrying forward with a deliberately loud voice: "Oh my! Finally, the honored Konoha ninja have arrived! You must be tired from your journey!" He rubbed his hands, his gaze quickly scanning the forehead protectors on all three before settling on Shuji, the apparent leader, with inquiry: "This distinguished gentleman must be the captain? May I ask how to address you?"
"Special Jōnin Shuji." Shuji's gaze moved past him to the six carts of obviously valuable fabrics.
"So it's Captain Shuji! My apologies for the poor reception!" Hiroyama quickly bowed with clasped hands, his smile still enthusiastic but his merchant's shrewdness undiminished. He seemingly casually glanced again at Anko and Itachi, probing: "These two... spirited young ninja are...?"
"Mitarashi Anko, Uchiha Itachi." Shuji's answer was sharp and concise, with no extra explanation.
The name "Uchiha" clearly brightened Hiroyama's eyes behind his glasses, and his smile seemed half a degree more genuine. But his doubts about their age and experience, like undercurrents beneath thin ice, didn't truly dissipate. He enthusiastically offered: "You three must be tired from traveling and haven't had breakfast yet? There's a ramen stand at the station entrance—authentic broth and chewy noodles!"
"That sounds good." Shuji nodded naturally. Long journeys consumed energy, and refueling was necessary.
Hiroyama immediately turned and shouted to the workers loading the carts: "Move faster! We leave as soon as I return with our honored guests!"
Anko curled her lip, unimpressed by this display. Itachi quietly remained in place, his calm gaze scanning the busy workers and stacked goods before saying softly to Shuji: "Senpai, I'll stay and watch."
Shuji nodded and left the noisy courtyard with Anko and Hiroyama.
The so-called "authentic" ramen shop was just a crude roadside stall at the station entrance. Several greasy low tables were crowded with early-morning merchants and porters, and the air was thick with rich pork bone broth and cheap soy sauce aromas. Hiroyama familiarly ordered three bowls of signature tonkotsu ramen from the owner.
When the noodles arrived, the broth was murky, floating a few translucent slices of chashu and wilted bamboo shoots. Shuji picked up his chopsticks, lifted some noodles, blew on them, and began eating heartily.
Seeing her captain start eating, Anko also picked up her chopsticks, but frowned at the greasy broth before picking at the noodles. Hiroyama seemed distracted, symbolically stirring his noodles while his thoughts were clearly elsewhere.
"Captain Shuji," Hiroyama set down his chopsticks, leaning slightly forward with the merchant's characteristic expression mixing worry and complaint, "As you can see, this shipment contains premium Fire Country Nanshu silk that sells for astronomical prices overseas! I won't hide it from you—I, Hiroyama Makoto, have staked my entire fortune on this cargo!"
He paused, observing Shuji's reaction, then lowered his voice with heart-to-heart sincerity: "So for this mission's payment, I scraped together 100,000 ryō! Originally I thought this route, though distant, was always safe between Fire and Tea Countries—at most a C-rank mission requiring a few chūnin escorts. But unexpectedly," his face showed perfect gratitude, "Lord Hokage's benevolence and understanding of small merchants' difficulties led him to classify this as B-rank! And sent you, Captain Shuji, a jōnin personally leading the team! I... I truly don't know how to express my gratitude!"
Shuji swallowed his noodles, lifted the bowl to drink some broth, his movements natural and fluid. He set down the bowl and looked calmly at Hiroyama. The information in the merchant's words assembled like scattered puzzle pieces in his mind.
100,000 ryō payment.
Entire fortune staked on the goods.
Originally expected mission rank: C-rank.
C-rank mission payments ranged from 30,000 to 100,000, while B-rank ran 80,000 to 200,000. Hiroyama's willingness to pay 100,000 was top-tier for C-rank but bottom-tier for B-rank. His emphasis on "scraping together" 100,000 indicated this was his limit, also implying his original risk assessment—insufficient for B-rank.
His "gratitude" targeted the village "voluntarily" upgrading the mission rank. What did this mean?
Mission classification was no trivial matter. C-rank meant expected risks didn't involve hostile ninja—typically assigned to chūnin with genin or veteran genin squads. B-rank explicitly included possible combat with enemy ninja—generally requiring experienced chūnin squads or even special jōnin or jōnin leadership.
Hiroyama's words and actions revealed a key contradiction: he himself didn't seem particularly worried about the core threat that prompted the village to upgrade the mission to B-rank—the "Black Erosion Group" rogue ninja. Or rather, ninja weren't his primary concern.
If Hiroyama truly feared the jutsu-capable "Black Erosion Group" would raid his caravan, given his entire fortune was staked on this cargo, he would never settle for just C-rank "top-tier" payment, nor would he be pleasantly surprised by the village's upgrade. He would at least try to squeeze out a few thousand more to ensure solid B-rank coverage, matching stronger escort forces. The 100,000 amount seemed more like premium C-rank protection money for major non-ninja threats.
Village intelligence pointed to Black Erosion Group threatening trade routes, hence the upgrade. But Hiroyama's expected enemies were likely others entirely. Did he not know of the Black Erosion Group's existence, or...
"Boss Hiroyama," Shuji's voice clearly cut through the surrounding noise, "what were you originally most worried about? Or rather, what made you think this cargo was worth 100,000 ryō for Konoha ninja escort?"
Hiroyama hadn't expected such a direct question. After a moment's pause, he showed a bitter smile, his gaze flickering behind round glasses: "Captain Shuji is perceptive. To be honest, this route to Degarashi Port has always been relatively stable—no major bandit troubles. But forests have all kinds of birds, and there are always small-time thieves, twenty or thirty to a group, using their terrain knowledge to target isolated small caravans. My cargo is too valuable this time—I'm afraid of catching some blind fool's attention who might use numbers to force a robbery. Regular escort teams probably couldn't hold them off."
He paused, seeming to hesitate before lowering his voice: "And near Degarashi Port territory, we'll pass through an old forest called Yacha Slope. That place has been troubled lately. There's a local gang called the Chasan Group that's gathered a bunch of desperados—supposedly two to three hundred men..."
"Chasan Group..." Shuji silently repeated the name. A bandit gang of two to three hundred would indeed spell doom for ordinary caravans—enough to make merchants stake everything on hiring ninja for deterrence. This was probably the real "top C-rank" risk in Hiroyama's eyes. As for the Black Erosion Group? That name hadn't even appeared in his account.
There was clear discrepancy between village intelligence and the client's awareness. This was no coincidence. Either village intelligence was wrong or the "Black Erosion Group" operated so secretly they hadn't caused widespread panic among ordinary merchants; or this "Black Erosion Group's" activity area or targets didn't fully overlap with Hiroyama's cargo route and value—there might even be other inside information.
"Understood." Shuji didn't probe further, simply nodding and finishing his remaining noodle soup. He set down the bowl and glanced at Anko, who had also nearly finished: "If you're done, let's return to the courtyard. Time to depart."
Anko had long lost interest in the greasy noodle soup and immediately set down her chopsticks. Hiroyama also quickly stood, plastering on his smile again: "Yes, yes, let's go right away! With Captain Shuji here, my heart can rest easy!"
When the three returned to Pine Breeze Inn's courtyard, the six carts were fully loaded with sturdy tarpaulins completely covering the colorful fabrics.
Itachi stood quietly beside one cart. Seeing Shuji return, he nodded slightly, indicating all was normal.
"Depart!" Hiroyama commanded.
Axles creaked, pack horses snorted, and the heavy caravan slowly rolled out of the inn's courtyard into the station town's bustling main road, heading southwest on the long journey to Degarashi Port in Tea Country.
Chapters in advance there: patreon.com/Thaniel_a_goodchild