"They are in the meeting room. Iruka is currently holding a session with them."
Hearing the word 'session,' Shiranui Hayate raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "What happened?"
Hotaru looked slightly embarrassed as she explained, "During one of the earlier attacks, a grenade detonated a bit too close to Rock Lee. Iruka decided it was time for a post-battle debrief and some supplementary lessons."
Hayate nodded, satisfied as long as Lee was unharmed. Iruka was, after all, an academy instructor by trade. It was only natural for him to lecture the two Genin from time to time; even if they surpassed him in raw combat power, Iruka remained the Chunin—the teacher.
Hayate reached into his pocket and produced the leather-bound notebook. "Hotaru, this is the formula for the Wax Bath that Cross gave me. Test it to ensure there are no issues. If it works as promised, clear out a room and set it up as a recovery ward."
Hotaru took the notebook, skimming through the pages briefly. "Understood. I'll see to it immediately."
At that moment, Cross and Wesley descended the stairs. It was unclear what they had said to one another in such a short time, but the father and son had clearly reached an understanding.
"Hayate, the mission to protect Wesley is officially over. Thank you for everything." As he spoke, Cross pulled out the keys to the Porsche Cayenne. "Wesley and I are heading out. Here are your keys."
Hayate glanced at the keys, then back at the car parked outside—the one still saturated with the pungent scent of sewer rats. He didn't want that car anywhere near him.
"Keep it, Cross," Hayate said with a casual wave. "Consider it a gift. It'll be easier for you to take your son home."
Cross didn't refuse. In this world, a Porsche was only worth a few tens of thousands of dollars—a pittance to men of their standing. He gave a final nod of farewell and departed with Wesley.
Shortly after, Charlie and his crew finished the cleanup and excused themselves.
"Hotaru, go get Iruka and the boys," Hayate commanded. "Pack light. We're staying at the Continental tonight."
Hayate wasn't afraid of another ambush, but there was no point in staying up all night on high alert in a damaged building. They could rest properly at the hotel and handle the bounty situation in the morning.
The team arrived at the Continental without further incident. As they entered the lobby, Hayate noticed several hitmen lounging in the executive lounge. Their eyes burned with a mix of curiosity and naked greed.
To them, a group consisting of a woman, two children, and an older Asian man looked like the definition of "soft targets." Despite the rumors of previous failures, many still felt confident in their own lethality—until their eyes met Shiranui Hayate's.
The veterans' pupils contracted. Hayate's reputation was a formidable shield, but the greed remained; if they couldn't kill the master, perhaps they could collect the two-million-dollar bounties on his "weak" subordinates.
Hayate ignored the vultures, trusting in the Continental's ironclad rule: No business on hotel grounds.
He stepped up to the front desk and placed five gold coins on the counter. "Charon, five rooms for the night. Adjoining, if possible."
Hotaru leaned in slightly toward Hayate, her voice soft and teasing. "Hayate... are you sure you wouldn't prefer four rooms instead?"
Hayate didn't even look at her. He kept his gaze on the concierge. "Five rooms, Charon."
Seeing that Hayate wasn't biting, Hotaru shrugged with a playful pout. She took her key card and headed upstairs first.
"Boring," Uchiha Sasuke muttered under his breath, grabbing his own card and following her. Iruka and Lee took the final two, leaving Hayate to his own thoughts.
In his room, Hayate's first priority was a long, hot shower. The scent of rats and the metallic tang of blood finally washed away. Wrapped in a bathrobe, he was about to enter the system interface when his doorbell rang.
"She just doesn't give up, does she?" Hayate grumbled, assuming it was Hotaru again.
But when he opened the door, he found Sasuke standing there instead.
"Come in," Hayate said, stepping aside.
Sasuke entered and took a seat, his posture uncharacteristically tense. Hayate checked the hallway to ensure they weren't being watched, then closed the door. "What is it, Sasuke?"
The young Uchiha bit his lip, his usual mask of stoicism flickering. "Master Hayate... can you bring my parents back in this world?"
Hayate froze. Looking at the boy, he was suddenly reminded that this was still a child—a twelve-year-old boy who had survived a horrific massacre only a few years prior. Even with the time spent in this new world, he was barely thirteen.
The raw longing in the boy's eyes moved Hayate. He stepped forward and placed a hand on Sasuke's hair, sighing softly.
"Sasuke, I cannot make any certain promises."
"Perhaps it will be soon, or perhaps it will be a very long time before I can bring your clansmen here. But I will try."
Sasuke didn't flinch away from the touch. Instead, his eyes welled with tears he refused to let fall. He missed his parents. He missed his home.
Suddenly, he dropped to the floor, performing a perfect, formal dogeza—a bow of ultimate supplication. "I beg of you, Master Hayate."
Before Hayate could respond, the boy stood up and bolted out of the room, leaving a heavy silence behind.