I, Uchiha, will not be whitewashed!

The next morning, Orochimaru convened a battle meeting in the command tent.

The attendees were Jonin and Special Jonin, and the long table was filled with people on both sides.

Sakumo Hatake leaned back in his chair, his sword resting on the table; the Yamanaka clan's perception captain sat opposite him, arms crossed, eyes closed; the Nara clan's tactical advisor sketched on a map, the pen scratching softly.

Orochimaru sat in the main seat, his fingers interlaced and resting on his chin, his golden eyes sweeping over everyone present.

The meeting's content was simple: last night's attack was a feint; the true objective of the Hidden Mist was a decapitation strike. Six assassins were still lurking in the eastern reef area and needed to be eliminated.

Orochimaru devised an ambush plan—Sakumo Hatake led a team to ambush on the north side, Captain Yamanaka led a team to ambush on the south side, and another small team was sent to patrol the east side of the camp as bait.

"Who should be the bait?" Hatake Sakumo opened his eyes.

"Uchiha Sakugo," Orochimaru's voice was flat. "His team. Three people, that's enough."

No one raised any objections.

Blade's reputation has spread across the Eastern Front. A Chunin under ten years old, leading two Genin, is enough to make the Hidden Mist's assassination squad unable to resist taking action.

The meeting was still ongoing, but Schogor was not present.

Chunin are not qualified to attend meetings of this level. He sat in the tent wiping his sword, Kurenai was organizing her ninja tool kit beside him, and Guy was still in the medical tent, but he had been allowed to get out of bed today.

The messenger lifted the curtain and handed over a scroll. Shuoge unfolded it, glanced at it, stood up, and hung his sword behind his back.

"Red, call Kai. Meet at the camp entrance."

Hong didn't ask why. She put down the ninja tool bag in her hand, turned around and walked out of the tent.

Kai was already waiting at the camp entrance.

The bandage on his left shoulder had been replaced with a new one, as had his bodysuit. His face was still a little pale, but his eyes were bright, and he grinned when he saw Shuoge walking over.

"Completely healed?"

"The medical team said they need to observe me further—" Kai clenched his fist, "but I know my own body. This bit of poison has already been eliminated."

Shuoge didn't expose him. He briefly explained the mission instructions: patrol the eastern reef area, walk slowly, and keep a clear path.

Kai paused for a moment, then grinned.

"Barecloth?"

—Using sharks as bait?

Shuoge did not answer.

The three men left the camp and headed towards the rocky area to the east.

A sea breeze was blowing from the east, and the fog was thinner than yesterday, with visibility about twenty paces.

Shuoge walked in front, his knife behind his back, his hand resting on the hilt. Kai walked to his right, and Hong to his left.

The three of them walked at a leisurely pace, as if they were taking a stroll.

After walking for about fifteen minutes, Shuoge stopped.

Ahead lay the rocky area, black rocks peeking out from the fog like the spine of a giant beast.

Waves crashed against the rocks, splashing white spray. The Sharingan swirled in the mist—the flow of chakra, six blurry beams of light, scattered across different locations in the rocky area.

They were surrounded. No, they walked into the encirclement.

Shuoge removed his hand from the hilt of the knife and let it hang at his side.

"They're here."

In the fog, six dark figures rushed out from behind the reef.

They moved swiftly and coordinated perfectly, forming groups of three: one feigned an attack from the front, while the other flanked from the side. Kunai, shuriken, and short swords gleamed coldly in the mist.

Kai was the first to rush out.

He was so fast that Hong only saw a green shadow before his fist slammed into the face of the first black figure.

The man was sent flying backward, crashed into the rocks, slid down, and lay motionless.

Kai didn't stop; he threw a second punch at the second dark figure.

The man raised his knife to parry, but Kai's fist struck the blade, breaking it. His fist continued forward, smashing into the man's chest. The sound of breaking ribs was crisp, and the man flew through the air, crashing into the sea.

Hong didn't move. She stood to Sakugo's left, her hands forming a hand seal, chakra weaving at her fingertips.

It wasn't an attack genjutsu, but a sensory genjutsu—she was spreading her chakra, weaving a net that covered the entire reef area.

The location of every enemy, the heartbeat of every person, the flow of every chakra—all were within her perception.

"There are two more on the left, we've come around them." Hong's voice was steady.

Shuoge moved.

He walked to the left, at a moderate pace, as if he were going to the river to practice his swordsmanship.

Two dark figures rushed out of the fog from the left, one in front and one behind, their short knives aimed straight at his throat and chest.

Shuoge drew his sword, slicing the short sword in front of him in one stroke, the blade continuing to slash across the man's throat.

Blood spurted out, and he dodged to the side, the second man's dagger missing its mark.

Shuoge's blade struck the man on the back of the head, and the man fell down, unconscious.

On the right, Kai had already dealt with the third one. He stood on the reef, blood on his fists, not his own. The bandage on his left shoulder was red again, but he didn't stop, his eyes fixed on the fog, searching for the fourth.

"Kai, come back." Shuoge's voice was calm.

Kai hesitated for a moment, then jumped off the reef and ran back to Shuoge's side.

Kurenai remained standing in place, her hands forming hand seals, her forehead covered in sweat. Her chakra was greatly depleted, but she didn't let up.

"There are three left." Hong's voice was a little breathless. "Two in the north, one in the south. The ones in the north are retreating, the ones in the south are advancing."

Sakumo Hatake emerged from the fog to the north.

His sword was already drawn, its white blade gleaming coldly in the mist.

Two Jonin followed behind him, silent and invisible, like shadows.

Two dark figures to the north saw him, turned to run, but Hatake Sakumo's sword was already upon them. One strike, and both fell simultaneously. Not a double kill with one strike, but a strike so fast there was no interval between them.

The dark figure to the south was surrounded by Captain Yamanaka and his men. He tried to break free, but his location was pinpointed by a Yamanaka clan sensory ninja. A Jonin slashed in from the side, severing his short sword with one strike and holding another to his neck.

The battle is over.

Of the six men, three were defeated by Kai, two were dealt with by Hatake Sakumo, and one was captured alive by Captain Yamanaka.

On Shuoge's side, they killed one and captured one.

Zero casualties.

Orochimaru emerged from the mist, stood on the reef, and looked down at the bound Mist Ninja. His golden eyes gleamed coldly in the mist.

"Take it back."

He turned around and glanced at Shuoge. His gaze lingered for a moment before shifting away.

There was no praise, no comment, not even a nod.

But Shuoge knew that this person remembered.

—Shuoge-kun, that's pretty good! ~

Kai plopped down on the rocks, panting heavily.

The bandage on his left shoulder was completely red, and blood seeped from the edges of the gauze, trickling down his arm. Hong came over, knelt down, and re-bandaged him. Her hands were steady, and her movements were gentle.

Shuoge stood on the reef, his sword already sheathed.

A sea breeze blew in from the east, dispersing the fog and revealing the distant sea horizon.

Gray sky, gray sea.

Shuoge watched for a while, then turned and walked towards the camp. Kai followed behind, and Hong followed behind Kai. The three of them, with their three pairs of footsteps, made a soft, crunching sound as they walked on the wet sand.

Behind them, Orochimaru was still standing on the reef, watching their backs.

Something was moving in those golden eyes—not emotion, but calculation.

He was wondering if this child, who was not even ten years old, was worth spending more time with.

The wind blew, and the fog thickened again.

……

……

……

A ninja is either on a mission or on his way to one.

The fog on the eastern front hadn't even lifted when new orders arrived.

The task of escorting the wounded was simpler than expected.

The ten wounded were no longer fit to be ninjas, so there was no point in keeping them on the front lines. The three carriages traveled from the eastern camp to Konoha Village, a journey that took two and a half days.

They encountered no harassment from the Hidden Mist on the road, not even from bandits. Kai said it was because the fog was too thick, and the enemies were too lazy to move. Hong said it was because Sakugo's sword was hanging on his back, and the enemies dared not move.

Shuoge remained silent, keeping a vigilant watchful eye.

Several of the wounded are disabled.

A boy with a missing right arm, about the same age as Shuoge, sat in the carriage, looking down at his empty sleeve, without saying a word.

When Hong handed him water, he took it, drank a sip, and returned it without saying a word.

Kai wanted to comfort him, but opened his mouth and didn't know what to say. He glanced at Shuoge, who wasn't looking at the boy, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his knife behind his back and his hand at his side.

The group arrived at Konoha Village on the evening of the second day.

The gateposts at the village entrance glowed orange in the setting sun, and the statues on Fire Shadow Rock were gilded with gold.

The medical team took over the wounded. Hong went to the medical department to complete the formalities, Kai went to the logistics department to submit the mission report, and Shuoge stood at the village entrance waiting.

He hasn't been back for a long time.

The last time I left, it was to the eastern front.

The last time was on the western front.

The village is still the same village, the streets are still the same streets, the air smells of roasted sweet potatoes, and children are kicking pebbles by the roadside.

He looked at the children, the oldest no more than five or six years old, running and laughing, unaware of what war was.

He looked away and waited for Hong and Kai to return.

After the three reunited, they spent the night in the village. The rest time was always shorter than expected. Before they even had a chance to eat a bowl of hot ramen, new instructions were delivered to their bedside.

-

The next morning, the supplies were escorted back to the eastern front. The supplies had already been sealed in three scrolls—two rolls of food and one roll of medicine—and stuffed into Sakugo's ninja tool pouch. The logistics department had provided a flatbed cart, its wheels clattering on the stone road. There was no driver; they had to push it themselves.

Shuoge took the mission scroll, glanced at it, folded it, and stuffed it into his pocket.

"Let's go."

The three of them crossed the street and headed towards the village entrance. The morning fog had not yet dissipated, and the streetlights at the village entrance shone with a hazy orange light in the fog.

……

……

……

……

……

……

There was another person standing at the entrance of the village.

Wearing a green bodysuit, a watermelon-shaped haircut, and a headband tied to his forehead, he held up a wooden board with a few words scrawled on it: "Genin, seeking a team, any mission."

—Matt Day.

His smile was so bright it was almost blinding. He bowed and scraped to every ninja who passed by.

"Excuse me, Jonin, is your team short-handed?"

"We don't lack anything."

"Hey Chunin, I'm in great shape, I can handle carrying supplies too—"

"We have our own people now."

"That--"

"I said we don't need it."

Dai's smile remained unchanged, but he bent over even lower. He stepped back to the side of the road, letting the ninjas pass, then continued holding the plank, waiting for the next group.

Kai slowed his pace.

He saw his father, and the expression on his face changed from calm to stiff.

He lowered his head, quickened his pace, and tried to walk past Dai.

Pretend you don't know them.

His green bodysuit was exactly the same as the one he wore, his watermelon head hairstyle was exactly the same, and even the way he walked was somewhat similar.

Anyone who saw them standing together would know they were father and son. But Kai didn't want anyone to know. The son of a perpetual low-ranking ninja—it was shameful to tell others.

Hong glanced at Kai, then at Dai, but said nothing.

Shuoge stopped.

He stood in front of Dai, looking at the wooden board and then at Dai's face.

That face resembled Kai's, only older, with more wrinkles, and a more forceful smile.

Shuoge knew, of course, who the person in front of him was.

They also knew what kind of achievements this person would make with his life a few years later—the seven ninja swords of Kirigakure, seven renowned Jonin, surrounded Guy and his companions.

At the critical moment, this long-time genin in the green bodysuit unleashed his power. He opened the Death Gate of the Eight Inner Gates, sacrificing his life force to fight the seven alone.

In that battle, the Seven Musketeers suffered heavy casualties; four died on the spot, and the survivors were wounded for life.

Matt Day, 35, was found with a smile on his face.

"What's your name?"

"Mc...McDai."

Dai's voice trembled slightly, not from fear, but from the fact that no one had spoken to him in so long. "Genin, taijutsu specialist, can do any physical labor. Moving supplies, digging trenches, setting up tents—"

"Will you fight?"

Dai was stunned for a moment. He had been a genin for over a decade, carrying out countless D-rank missions, but rarely even C-rank ones. Fighting? He had fought wild boars, villagers stealing vegetables, and drunken troublemakers.

Fighting ninjas? No.

He's not qualified.

"Yes," Dai said, his voice a little louder than before.

Shuoge pointed to the supply truck behind him. "Escorting supplies, three days round trip. We're short one person, you come."

Dai took the mission scroll, his hands trembling. He looked at the mission level—C-rank. His lips trembled, and his eyes were a little red, but he held back.

"Am I...can I do it?"

"If I say it's okay, then it's okay." Shuoge turned and walked towards the supply truck. "Follow me."

He tucked the wooden board under his arm and jogged after them.

Kai stood there, his face flushed red. He gritted his teeth, wanting to say something, but his throat felt like it was blocked by something.

Hong walked past him and patted him on the shoulder. He took a deep breath and followed her.

Four people and three supply trucks walked out of the village. Shuoge walked at the front, with Dao behind him. Dai walked on the left side of the convoy, Kai on the right, and Hong at the very back.

After walking a long way, Kai finally spoke.

"Dad, go back."

Dai paused for a moment, then turned to look at Kai. Kai didn't look at him; his eyes were fixed straight ahead, his chin raised, and his lips pressed into a thin line.

"I've accepted a mission, I can't go back."

"What are you, a mere genin, doing following us?" Kai's voice was somewhat harsh. "You'll only hold us back."

Dai didn't speak. He lowered his head, looking at the scroll in his hand, his knuckles turning white. Kai also didn't speak. Three supply trucks separated the two of them, like a river between them.

Shuoge walked at the front without looking back.

"He won't hold us back."

Kai watched Shuoge's retreating figure, his lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but he swallowed his words back. He put his hands in his pockets, quickened his pace, and walked to the front of the convoy, alongside Shuoge.

He didn't want to see his father's face; he didn't want to be humiliated along with him.

—Even though he's a perennial genin, he has to carry out such a dangerous mission.

Dai walked at the back of the convoy, alongside Hong. Hong glanced at him but didn't say anything. Dai smiled at her, a cautious smile, as if afraid of disturbing others.

Red shifted its gaze away.

The procession continued.

The morning mist dissipated, and sunlight shone on the four people, casting long shadows that trailed on the ground. In the distance, the outline of Konoha Village grew smaller and smaller behind them, eventually becoming a black dot and disappearing on the horizon.