The baskets didn't hold a single fish; they were filled with flat, jagged stones. A flash of embarrassment crossed Tatsuma's face. He had been so confident in his mastery of Genjutsu: Release, yet he had succumbed to the illusion without even realizing it.
He had seen stones as succulent, wriggling fish. If it hadn't been for Jiraiya's intervention, he might have slipped even deeper into the trance.
"Let's go buy some fish to eat!" Jiraiya announced, his voice much louder than usual.
Tatsuma felt that Jiraiya was overcompensating—the shinobi equivalent of 'protesting too much'—but as someone who had just fallen for the trick himself, he wasn't in any position to criticize.
The trio slowly pushed through the crowd toward Mou's stall. When they reached the front, Jiraiya crouched down and began picking through the stones with exaggerated care, occasionally fumbling as if the "fish" were particularly slippery.
One had to admit, Jiraiya was a hell of an actor. He handled those cold stones as if they were lively, flopping sea bass.
Mou greeted them with a warm, genuine smile, explaining the different "species" and their prices. Tatsuma and Minato watched the fisherman closely, coming to a chilling conclusion: Mou truly believed he was selling fish. His pride in his product and his earnest smile were entirely sincere. He was just as much a victim of the illusion as his customers.
"We're just one adult and two kids, so this should be plenty," Jiraiya said, placing a few large stones on the scale. "What do I owe you?"
Mou checked the weight. "That's ten and a half pounds. Let's call it ten. Sixty Ryo will do."
"That cheap?" Jiraiya blurted out.
Even for a Sannin, the price was shocking. Sea fish in the Leaf Village went for at least twenty Ryo per pound; this was barely a third of the market rate. Mou picked up a notched, dull filleting knife and laughed.
"We're right by the ocean, and everyone here can fish. My neighbors only stop by to support a friend; if I charged full price, I wouldn't be able to look them in the eye. Would you like me to clean these for you, sir?"
Jiraiya pulled out his wallet and nodded. "Please."
The three ninjas watched in macabre silence as Mou took his dull blade and painstakingly "scaled" and "gutted" the stones. He bagged the rocks, took Jiraiya's money, and beamed. "If you like the taste, come back tomorrow. I'll give you an even better deal."
"It's a promise," Jiraiya replied with a brilliant smile. As he pushed himself up from his knees, he added with casual curiosity, "Say, boss, how many people do you have helping you catch all this? You seem to be doing a brisk business."
Mou gave a bashful smile. "I only have one helper. He's incredible at fishing—he brings in more than I can sell every single day."
"That impressive, huh?" Jiraiya acted intrigued. "I'd love to meet a guy like that if I get the chance."
Hearing his partner praised, Mou's face lit up with vicarious pride. "You've just missed him, I'm afraid. Once I've sold through most of this, he usually stops by to drop off the next catch."
Jiraiya fully stood up, his face falling into a mask of regret. "Ah, that's a shame. I'm not sure how long we'll be in town—gotta keep these two students of mine on their toes with their studies. I'll get out of your hair so you can get back to your customers. Take care!"
As Jiraiya turned to leave, he scanned the people waiting in line. None of them looked annoyed or impatient; their expressions were dull, almost robotic. They were there to buy fish, and they would wait as long as necessary to get it. There was no frustration, no small talk—just a singular, zombified focus.
Jiraiya's brow furrowed. He signaled the boys to follow him.
Once they were clear of the crowd and outside the main residential area, Jiraiya tossed the bag of stones onto the dirt. "You saw the state of them. Staying in Awa isn't going to get us any more intel. The entire village is under total control. Their very perception of reality has been rewritten."
His voice turned grave. This was a level of Genjutsu he had never encountered—not just for its scale, but for its insidious nature. To influence thousands of people was one thing, but to have it catch even Tatsuma and Minato off-guard was another.
While they were young, Jiraiya knew both boys were effectively Chunin-level in their capabilities. He finally understood why the previous teams of Leaf ninjas had wandered out of the village in a daze, leaving only fragmented, useless notes.
"I'm going to try and make contact with the Ninja Beast first. Stay back," Jiraiya commanded. "I want you two to shadow Mou. If it comes down to it... we may have to use him as leverage to force the beast to stand down."
Tatsuma and Minato both pressed their lips together. As ninjas, the idea of using a civilian as a hostage to complete a mission sat poorly with them.
Jiraiya sensed their hesitation. "I know what you're thinking. A ninja shouldn't target civilians without cause. But this is different. Mou is the one who broke the seal. Restricting his movement to stop this madness doesn't violate our code."
Before they could argue or suggest an alternative, a series of panicked wails erupted from the center of Awa.
"Move!" Jiraiya barked, bolting toward the sound with the boys on his heels.
"Satoshi! Satoshi! Please, someone help! Help my son!"
They burst back into the village to find a woman clutching a four-year-old boy. She was frantic, screaming at the passersby for help. But the people around her didn't even flinch. They continued their robotic march toward the fish stall or back to their homes, stepping around the sobbing mother as if she were a piece of furniture.
Jiraiya used the Body Flicker to appear instantly beside her, taking the child from her arms. "What happened?"
"The fish! The fish!" the woman cried, her eyes momentarily glazing over with a strange vacancy at the mention of the food. "He's choking! It's stuck!"
Jiraiya ignored her and focused on the boy. The child was convulsing, saliva streaming from his mouth, his chest heaving in irregular, desperate gasps.
"He's suffocating," Tatsuma noted. He stepped in, pried the boy's frantic hands away from his throat, and flipped him over. Positioning himself behind the child, Tatsuma gripped him around the waist and performed the Heimlich maneuver with clinical precision.
Hrgh—ghk—urgh—ACK!
After a few tense seconds, the boy's mouth flew open, and a jagged stone the size of two thumbs hit the ground. The boy immediately began to wheeze, sucking in air.
Tatsuma let out a breath of relief and moved to set the boy down, but before he could say a word to Jiraiya or Minato, the child—still gasping for air—suddenly lunged for the stone on the ground.
His small hands clawed at the dirt, his mouth open wide. He looked like a man who had been starving for days, desperate to swallow the "fish" whole.
Jiraiya's foot lashed out, kicking the stone far into the distance. The teacher and his students shared a grim look.
"We're out of time," Jiraiya said, his voice hard. "We have to end this before someone actually dies."
At that moment, Minato pointed toward the far end of the street, where a young boy wearing a straw hat and carrying a fishing basket was approaching.
"There!"