Chapter 26 – Life in the ANBU (Part 4)
Minamoto Ren's life had grown even more fulfilling.
Ever since returning from Orochimaru's place, he had taken on an additional daily task—reading.
And to be honest, Ren found it torturous. In the shinobi world, authors always loved to add endless tangents and expansions in their writing… mainly because those who created ninjutsu were geniuses, while the ones reading their works were, well… far less so.
When geniuses wrote, they simply jotted down whatever came to mind. People like Orochimaru could follow along easily, skipping straight to the parts they found interesting. But Ren wasn't nearly that gifted. Even with Orochimaru's guidance, he still needed time to fully grasp the material.
Still, this was what one might call "survivor's bias." The vast majority of mid- to low-level Konoha shinobi didn't even have the qualifications to read such books. Or rather, they weren't given access precisely because they wouldn't understand them.
The fact that Ren could keep up with Orochimaru's train of thought at all already put him in the "minor genius" category.
But back to the point—
If the reading material was both important and difficult, then Ren would have to make use of every bit of free time. And so, an amusing sight began to appear around Konoha.
First, there were the tavern regulars. Some Konoha genin, lured by the rumors of the "Hannya Demon," came hoping for a glimpse. Most left disappointed—but a lucky few actually saw it. All they had to do was skip the late-night drinks, leap onto the tavern rooftops under the moonlight, and there he'd be—the masked phantom, calmly reading under the silver glow.
A few bold ones even tried to strike up conversation, only to be scared off when Ren casually loosened his grip on Jūan, the blade at his side.
Then there was his lunch routine. Lately, Ren had been working the late shift, sleeping in until noon, then heading straight to "Ichiraku" for ramen. Even there, his hands never left his book. Many parents who saw this would sternly warn their children—
"If you're not better-looking and not half as hardworking as he is… then why did I even have you?"
Ren himself remained blissfully unaware of these rumors, and even if he knew, he wouldn't care. These were merely passing reflections of his true self. If he ever stopped to bask in them, the light around him would eventually fade.
That evening, Ren was—as usual—reading atop the roof of "Konoha Sake House" when Shimura Yū, reeking of alcohol from the tavern below, leapt up beside him and offered a bottle of Hyakuyōka.
Ren sniffed it.
"Good sake—but I can't drink while on a mission. If you want to, I didn't see anything."
That was him being tactful.
Yū didn't leave, instead crouching down beside him. He had something he wanted to tell Ren, but couldn't find the words.
Ren was a good man—through and through a Konoha shinobi. As a ninja, he was flawless. In dealing with people, he was warm and courteous. Even in appearance and temperament, he was one of those rare types who might appear only once in decades… Yū trusted this teammate deeply. But Lord Danzō did not.
The news Yū wanted to share was simple—
Danzō had returned.
The border conflict between Iwagakure and Kumogakure had subsided, ending Danzō's mission of guarding the frontier. Now he was back.
And the first thing he did upon his return was make a round through the ANBU, checking who was new and who was missing. Then he returned to his clan to hear what had happened in his absence. Yū, of course, had to report the ANBU intel he had gathered.
When Yū finished speaking, the clan head Danzō quietly asked him one single name—
"Minamoto Ren."
Shimura Yū didn't dare to hide anything. He told everything about his teammate's deeds, but the more he spoke, the deeper Danzō's frown became. By the end, the man's face was so dark it seemed as if water could drip from it.
Lord Danzō left without a word, heading toward the Hokage's office. Shimura Yū knew exactly what that meant—his teammate was in trouble.
Following that thought, he opened his mouth but then closed it again. Finally, he stood, patted Minamoto Ren on the shoulder, and left him with a cryptic warning:
"The night is deep, the dew is heavy—be careful."
With that, Shimura Yū disappeared in a flicker.
After he left, Minamoto Ren continued reading, for perhaps another half an hour, until he suddenly shut the book.
He had understood what Shimura Yū was trying to imply.
In the past, during their joint night shifts, it was always Shimura Yū who'd sneak away for a drink while Minamoto Ren kept watch. Never before had Yū been so hesitant, so strangely sentimental.
So, what had caused the change?
It wasn't the workload—ANBU missions were hardly taxing for a seasoned veteran like Yū. Even the credit for killing a Kirigakure spy had been split between them, though Yū had promptly squandered his share on sake and women. They had no personal grudges, no conflicts.
That meant the change could only come from someone else.
Right now, Minamoto Ren was under the direct command of the Hokage and personally trained by Tsunade. Even if Hiruzen Sarutobi had grown suspicious of him, Tsunade would have been informed first. There was no way she'd leave him to receive such a vague warning from Yū.
The answer was obvious.
"So… Shimura Danzō has returned to the village," Minamoto Ren murmured.
His return could only mean trouble. The relationship between Danzō and Hiruzen was like that between two great nations from his previous life—one a mad dog that bit without hesitation, and the other always urging the bitten party to "just let it go."
Lu Xun once said, 'Never associate with those who harm others yet preach tolerance.' The words fit the future Hiruzen perfectly. Even now, while still the "Hero," the signs of that tendency were already there.
With that thought, Minamoto Ren lost all interest in reading. He shut the book and gazed at the moon overhead.
He knew that sealed within it was Ōtsutsuki Kaguya. But those matters were still far away. Many reincarnators before him had fretted endlessly in their genin days—worrying about Madara's resurrection, Kaguya's return, the threat of the All-Killing Ash Bones…
But did worrying about those distant disasters help them understand the essence of ninjutsu, or what it truly meant to be a shinobi?
He didn't mean to belittle the "eight-year-old Kage" legends. After all, even with the Shikotsumyaku in his arsenal, he was still only at jōnin level. But from his understanding of the world—both before and after transmigrating—he firmly believed in one guiding principle:
"Seek truth from facts. Keep your feet on the ground."
Follow those characters, and you could survive anywhere.
It was both his occupational habit and his survival philosophy. Faced with any problem, his response was simple:
"When the soldiers come, block them. When the water rises, build a dam."
Taking a deep breath, he calmed his mind. Below his window, the taverns bustled with noise and clinking cups. Minamoto Ren reopened his book. If he wanted to catch up to the prodigies of the ninja world and adapt to its ever-shifting tides, his cheat-like advantage alone wouldn't be enough. He needed a comprehensive grasp of ninjutsu's entire knowledge system.
Otherwise, even if someone handed him the Rinnegan, he'd just be a caveman holding a nuclear bomb.
True strength came from knowing where power originated, how to wield it, and where its limits lay.
As Minamoto Ren immersed himself once again in study under the moonlight, Danzō received the piece of information that solidified his resolve.
"Lord Danzō, the owner of that sword has been confirmed—it's him! Yakura Ryōmu, Hanzō's confidant and the appointed successor for the position of Rain ANBU Captain!"