After leaving a Flying Thunder God seal behind, Roshi continued to tail the Grass Village squad from the shadows.
Their pace was steady but tense, their movements too disciplined to be an ordinary patrol. Roshi trailed them across rooftops, just close enough to overhear their low conversation.
Before long, one of the younger Grass ninja broke the silence with a frustrated hiss.
"This is ridiculous. He's just a Chunin-level runaway—why's he such a pain to catch?"
"The order's to capture, not kill," an older ninja replied calmly. "Accidents happen when you're told to be careful."
"'Capture alive,' 'don't kill'—same thing every mission lately," another grumbled. "Not just our own defectors, but rogues from other villages too. We can't even cash in their bounties anymore! Everything's got to be shipped off to Hozuki Castle."
The complaints spread among them like sparks on dry grass.
"Enough," their leader snapped quietly. His voice carried a hard edge. "We're ninja. We follow orders. That's all you need to know."
The group fell silent again, their footsteps fading into the steady rhythm of the night.
From the shadows above, Roshi narrowed his eyes.
Capture, not kill…
That single distinction was telling.
They weren't gathering information—dead men couldn't talk, but there were far simpler ways to extract secrets than hauling every stray ninja to a fortress-prison halfway across the continent.
This wasn't about interrogation.
Which meant the prisoners themselves were the objective.
Why?
He thought through the possibilities. Money? Unlikely. The cost of capturing and transporting live ninja would outweigh any subsidies from Hozuki Castle. Political leverage? Risky—kidnapping rogues from other nations could easily provoke retaliation.
Then there was the third possibility.
The ninja themselves are the resource.
Ninja bodies held value—chakra, bloodlines, forbidden techniques, even as material for jutsu or sacrificial rituals. To certain kinds of people, a skilled shinobi was worth more alive than dead.
His mind flicked back to the earlier words about Karin's mother—how she wasn't sent to Hozuki Castle.
The pieces began to align.
Grass Village wasn't merely detaining criminals. They were gathering living assets.
After some time, the team returned to the residential quarter. The lights dimmed one by one as the Grass ninja dispersed, their chatter fading into the night.
Roshi followed discreetly for a while longer, but the trail yielded nothing more. Every passing patrol confirmed the same thing: Grass Village had mobilized multiple squads for these "capture alive" operations.
Satisfied that he'd gone far enough, Roshi finally reached for the pulse of the Flying Thunder God seal he'd left behind—and vanished in an instant.
He reappeared inside the inn, where his clone still sat cross-legged, maintaining the illusion of his presence. Dispelling it, he confirmed that nothing had changed while he was away.
The moment he stepped out of the room, Anko was there to meet him, her voice low and sharp. "Captain, what did you find?"
Kotetsu and Izumo appeared beside her, eyes alert.
"There are some discoveries," Roshi said evenly, "but Grass Village's true purpose remains unclear."
He glanced toward the curtained window, his tone darkening. "What's certain is this—they've been capturing large numbers of rogue and defected ninja recently. And alive."
Anko frowned. "That's… odd."
"Very," Roshi replied. "Dealing with runaways is one thing. Doing it this often—and refusing to kill any of them—isn't normal. Something's going on beneath the surface."
The tension in the room grew heavier. Izumo shifted uneasily. "Do you think it'll affect Konoha?"
"Grass Village borders the Land of Fire," Roshi said flatly. "Whatever they're planning, it's close enough to reach us."
He let that thought hang in the air for a moment before exhaling softly. "We'll rest for tonight. Tomorrow, we'll see how they respond to our invitation."
"Our mission remains the same—the Chunin Exams come first."
The others nodded silently.
Meanwhile, deep beneath Grass Village, far below its quiet streets, a secret council convened inside an underground chamber.
It wasn't held in the public government halls near the center of the village, but in a place few even knew existed.
Flickering lanterns cast crooked shadows across the walls.
Jonin Hayami, who had greeted Roshi's team earlier that day, now knelt at the far end of the long stone table, reporting every detail of his encounter with the Konoha envoy.
"Joint Chunin Selection Exams?" one of the elders repeated, his wrinkled face curling in disdain. "So Konoha wants to parade its strength again, using our genin as stepping stones?"
Several of the others gave grim, knowing smiles.
They'd seen this before—more than once.
Konoha's "joint exams" were little more than a spectacle for nobles and Daimyo, showcasing the Leaf's prodigies while the smaller villages were reduced to fodder in comparison.
For Grass Village, it was a lose-lose situation.
Send their talented Genin, and they risked drawing Konoha's attention—the kind that ended with "recruitment" by Root. Send weaker ones, and they'd be humiliated publicly.
Either way, they gained nothing.
"Let them boast to their lords," one elder muttered bitterly. "For us, there is no glory—only risk."
Another elder leaned forward, voice gravelly but sharp. "Still… perhaps we can make use of this Konoha envoy before we decline. After all, they came to us."
His lips curled into a faint smile.
"Maybe they'll be more useful alive than dead."
The candlelight flickered—and in that dim chamber, the whispers of Grass Village's true purpose began to take shape.
Another elder spoke up, his tone measured but firm.
"Konoha's true motives don't matter. What matters is that we can't afford to refuse. If we decline their invitation without a valid reason, we'll only draw unwanted attention. At this stage, we must avoid unnecessary complications."
Tsutakawa, the leader of Grass Village seated at the head of the chamber, nodded slowly, the dim lantern light flickering across his sharp features.
"Agreed. Konoha's attention will be fixed inward while they prepare for the exams. That distraction, for us, is an opportunity."
He turned his gaze toward Hayami.
"Tomorrow morning, deliver our official reply. Grass Village will participate in the joint Chunin Exams."
"Yes, Lord Tsutakawa." Hayami bowed deeply, the faintest trace of relief in his voice.
The elder who had spoken first leaned forward, eyes burning with fervor.
"Hmph. Let Konoha bask in its arrogance a little longer. Once our plan succeeds, this village will no longer kneel to anyone!"
His voice echoed through the underground chamber, rising with each word.
"We'll finally have the power to change everything—to free this land from its cursed fate as the world's battlefield!"
Tsutakawa's gaze swept the table. The faces around him reflected determination and fanatic resolve. Grass Village had long been divided—between the pro-war faction and the pro-peace faction.
They all shared the same dream: to escape their destiny as a buffer state, forever trampled between greater powers.
And that dream now rested on one thing—
The Box of Paradise.
A legendary relic said to date back to the era of the Sage of Six Paths, sealed deep beneath Hozuki Castle. A weapon of impossible power that could reshape the world itself.
But unlocking it required an immense sacrifice—a vast reserve of chakra and countless lives.
Just then, hurried footsteps echoed through the corridor. A Grass ninja in dark uniform burst into the chamber, bowing low.
"Lord Tsutakawa, Elders! Urgent report—the pursuit squad has located Kazuma, former Guardian Ninja of the Land of Fire Daimyo. He's traveling with a child."
One of the elders narrowed his eyes.
"Kazuma? He'd make an excellent offering. A man with the Daimyo's trust doesn't lack chakra—and his experience as a Guardian Ninja will make him resilient."
Tsutakawa's expression remained unreadable for a long moment. Then, he gave his order.
"Proceed according to the plan. Accelerate everything. We must complete the initial preparations before the Konoha Chunin Exams begin."
"Yes!" The reply thundered in unison, echoing in the dark chamber like a vow.
The next morning, Hayami visited the Konoha guesthouse, his smile as calm as ever.
"Lord Roshi," he said with a respectful bow, "after careful discussion, our village has decided to accept Konoha's invitation. Grass Village will participate in the Chunin Exams."
Roshi returned the gesture with a polite nod, concealing the faint ripple of suspicion beneath his steady demeanor.
"Konoha appreciates Grass Village's cooperation. Please convey our gratitude to Lord Tsutakawa."
He showed no hint of emotion as he led his team out of the village soon after.
But as they passed through the gates, Roshi quietly reached out with his senses—
The Flying Thunder God mark he'd placed with Karin still pulsed faintly, unchanged.
Good. They were still alive.
The group traveled swiftly through the rugged terrain, crossing rivers and narrow mountain passes. Every so often, Roshi would pause under the guise of scouting, carving a faint seal on a stone or tree trunk—a thin wooden marker inscribed with seals.
Each one was placed exactly within his teleportation range, forming a seamless chain of escape routes leading back to Konoha.
By the time they reached the border of the Land of Fire, Roshi stopped. The air was lighter here, the tension thinning like mist.
"Izumo. Kotetsu."
Both men straightened at once.
"You two will return to Konoha immediately. Deliver Grass Village's written reply along with a detailed report of their abnormal activities. Take the fastest route and report directly to Lady Tsunade."
The two exchanged a glance. "Understood."
Within the Land of Fire's borders, their safety was nearly assured, and Konoha's network of outposts would guarantee swift communication.
Then Roshi turned to Anko.
"Anko, stay here for now. I'll need you for something later."
She blinked. "Huh? What are you planning this time?"
He didn't answer right away. Izumo and Kotetsu gave brief nods, trusting him implicitly. Roshi had earned that respect—his leadership in two high-stakes missions had proven he wasn't just capable, but uncanny.
The two "gate guards" took off, disappearing down the forest road toward Konoha.
When they were gone, Anko folded her arms and gave him a curious look.
"So? What's the mission?"
Roshi's expression didn't change.
"Last night, I found two survivors of the Uzumaki Clan in Grass Village."
"Uzumaki Clan?" Anko tilted her head, thinking. "Oh, those sealing experts—used to be allied with Konoha, right? But I thought they were wiped out ages ago."
Roshi nodded slightly. "They're alive. A mother and her daughter. I plan to bring them back to the Village."
"Huh?" Anko blinked. "Bring them back? Wait… they're both women?"
Her eyes narrowed playfully. "Roshi… you're not—"
Before she could finish, two fingers pinched her cheek and stretched it firmly to the side.
"—Ow ow ow! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Captain!" she yelped, flailing. "I was joking! Totally joking!"
Releasing her, Roshi's face returned to its usual calm.
"They're victims, not targets. But both possess unique value—especially the daughter. Leaving them here would be a waste… and a death sentence."
Anko rubbed her cheek, half-smiling despite herself. "Alright, alright, you win. What's my part in this rescue?"
"Wait here," Roshi said. "Stay out of sight and set up an ambush perimeter. I'll bring them out within two days—depending on how things unfold."
Anko's eyes sharpened. "Got it."
With a flick of her coat, she disappeared into the dense forest, her chakra quickly vanishing from sight.
When the silence settled again, Roshi closed his eyes.
He could still sense the faint pulse of the Flying Thunder God mark.
"Hold on a little longer," he murmured.
The next instant, his figure vanished into the wind.
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