Reconnaissance*Work

Hiroyama, who had been looking serious, turned to look at Muzheng when he heard Mokushō's "Eh?": "You know this person?"

Mokushō chuckled dryly twice, already taking a step back. "Ahaha, well, anyway, he's a good lad, haha, that's all, I'll be going now--"

"Wait." Hiroyama reached out to stop him, but Mokushō had already slipped through the gaps between the guards like a slippery eel and disappeared into the alleyway like a gust of wind.

Everyone present, including Luotai, stared in the direction he disappeared, their faces full of question marks.

Who is this person? They're running pretty fast.

Hiroyama withdrew his gaze and looked down at Luotai was still lying on the ground.

He didn't speak immediately, but simply raised his hand, signaling the guards behind him to take the two elderly people away.

Several guards stepped forward and invited the two elderly ladies into the inner room to rest.

The courtyard quieted down, leaving only Hiroyama, Luotai, and Tamaro, who came out of the house after hearing the news.

Tamaro leaned against a pillar, tilting his head to look at Luotai, a blade of grass he had plucked from somewhere dangling from his mouth, and remained silent.

"You said you wanted to expose all of Masato's conspiracies," Hiroyama said, squatting down in front of Luotai. "Then start from the beginning, don't leave out a single word."

Meanwhile, Hashirama and Madara had thoroughly explored the situation on the beach.

They found the situation to be far from optimistic.

Upon setting foot on this land, they vaguely sensed the presence of onlookers and a chaotic atmosphere.

Those gazes were hidden among the dockworkers and vendors, behind the half-open paper windows, and under the low-hanging straw hats of travelers.

Hashirama silently spread his senses, trying to find those people, but those gazes vanished in an instant, like smoke blown away by the wind.

Something strange is here.

Izuna's reaction confirmed this.

The most perceptive among them seemed to have heard something as soon as he stepped off the ship. He paused for a moment, then his gaze swept across the entire dock, pausing briefly in several places.

The action couldn't have been more obvious, so when Izuna searched along the Hashirama where Izuna's gaze had lingered and found no trace of anything in those locations, he wasn't surprised.

There were too many people coming and going at the dock, and the spies mixed in were obviously professionally trained. They retreated cleanly and efficiently, leaving not even a few footprints.

But any action will leave a trace.

Hashirama squatted down next to a crate that Izuna had once swept, picked up a small pinch of sawdust that had rubbed off from the corner of the crate with his fingertips, and sniffed it.

The sawdust had a faint smell of tung oil, something used in shipbuilding.

He looked up and gazed at the coastline north of the dock, shrouded in twilight, where the outlines of several shipyards could be vaguely seen.

Ban walked over, glanced in the direction of his gaze, said nothing, and simply walked ahead in that direction.

The two walked north along the coastline, passing through a patch of low bushes, then climbing over a rocky slope eroded by the sea, and finally stopped on a high cliff.

Below lies a secluded bay surrounded by cliffs, where a sizable Shipyard sits deep within, with several unfinished ships lined up in the dock.

There weren't many people patrolling around the dock, but their positions were extremely cunning, effectively blocking all routes of approach from the land.

What concerned Hashirama even more were the several fast ships anchored on the sea near the dock. They were narrow and long with shallow drafts, clearly designed for pursuit.

What exactly are these people trying to do? Are they trying to wipe them out completely?

Madara crouched down beside him, his Sharingan slowly rotating in the twilight, taking in every detail of the Shipyard.

His gaze swept across the bay, noting the location of the armory, the number and type of ships docked at the pier, and finally settling on the row of large cargo containers completely covered by tarpaulins at the deepest part of the Shipyard.

I'm curious about what's there.

"Me too." Hashirama's long hair fluttered in the night breeze. "Let's go inside and take a look."

They bypassed the patrols and sneaked into the factory.

Behind the dock, there were several unfinished ships, their keels facing upwards on supports, with wood shavings and nails scattered around them, and the strong smell of tung oil mixed with the salty odor of the sea.

Using the ship's hull as cover, the two circled around to the back of the Shipyard and landed on the roof of a warehouse.

The warehouse was lit up, and the shadows of several people were cast on the paper windows.

Hashirama and Madara simultaneously concealed their presence, crouching low against the eaves. A crack opened in the paper window, and intermittent voices drifted out from inside.

"... The blockade must be completed within this month. The ports on the Land of Hot Water side have already been secured, and all merchant ships entering and leaving the Land of Whirlpools will be intercepted under the pretext of 'inspecting contraband.' Patrol ships from the Land of Lightning will be responsible for pursuing any escapees on the outskirts," a deep voice said.

"What about the Land of Whirlpools? They're not stupid. As soon as the blockade started, they'd definitely send someone to break through and ask for reinforcements. And what about Konoha— "

"The Hokage of Konoha is currently in the Land of Hot Water. Orders have been issued to halt all operations against the Land of Whirlpools until those four individuals leave the Land of Whirlpools."

"What exactly are those four people doing in the Land of Hot Water?"

"I don't know. But as long as they don't come looking for us, we don't need to provoke them."

Hashirama and Madara exchanged a glance, seeing the same coldness in each other's eyes.

As dusk slowly faded, stars filled the sky.

The footsteps of the patrol team on the dock were regular and monotonous, circling the area every fifteen minutes.

The craftsmen in the dock had long since dispersed, leaving only a few Wind Lanterns still lit, swaying gently in the sea breeze.

Just when Hashirama thought that the row of crates was just an ordinary warehouse for storing supplies, the innermost crate suddenly made a very soft knock.

Then, the lid was pushed open from the inside.

A figure flipped out of the crate and landed nimbly on the ground. Then came the second, the third, and the fourth, and more and more people emerged from the large cargo crates that were completely covered with tarpaulins.

They mostly wore dark short jackets with tight cuffs, had fair skin, and were lean and muscular.

These people did not light lamps, but gathered around the open space next to the dock by moonlight, sat down on the ground, and took out dry food and bamboo water bottles from the cloth bags they carried with them, and began to eat quietly.

The entire process was almost entirely silent, with only the occasional chewing sound and the scraping sound of the bamboo tube lid being unscrewed.

Hashirama squinted slightly, carefully observing the faces and figures of those people by the moonlight.

Their garments were embroidered with a pattern in dark thread, the lines of which resembled maple leaves spreading out on their sleeves.

He stared at the pattern for a moment, then his pupils suddenly contracted.

He recognized the pattern; it was the Clan Crest of the Tsuchigumo Clan.

One of the few independent Shinobi Clans that did not join Konoha, renowned for its Sealing Jutsu and secret word techniques.

He originally thought that the Tsuchigumo Clan simply wanted to stay out of trouble and didn't want to get involved in any conflicts, which was why they refused Konoha's invitation.

But their presence here, huddled in the Shipyard's cargo containers, working day and night, is clearly preparation for war.

Hashirama's brow furrowed.

Why? Could it be that they want to make a quick buck? After all, they are a race known for their secret arts and Sealing Jutsu. Their participation in this operation will likely bring them considerable benefits.

Furthermore, the Tsuchigumo Clan possesses a Forbidden Techniques called "Fury," which, once activated, can easily destroy an entire city.

They will undoubtedly become the most powerful weapon in the operation to destroy the Land of Whirlpools.

But the most crucial point is not here. The most crucial point is that, regardless of their purpose in coming here, they have already merged with the Land of Lightning and the Land of Water.

The nature of this conflict has changed from this moment on.

Their appearance signifies that the Land of Fire has also joined the effort to destroy the Land of Whirlpools.

If they succeed, it will not only destroy the Land of Whirlpools, but also the Land of Fire, or rather, the reputation of the Senju Clan Konoha.

Because history will only record the Land of Fire joining forces with two other countries to besiege the Land of Whirlpools.

This must be prevented from happening.

However, it is not advisable to alert the enemy now; we must first have a clear understanding of the entire situation before taking any action.

He looked at Madara, whose Sharingan had already recorded the appearance and location of every member of the Tsuchigumo clan.

The two silently retreated from the warehouse roof and disappeared into the night along the route they had come from.

After they left, a girl from the Tsuchigumo Clan stood up, slowly walked out of the dock, and sat down on a rock, holding half a rice Rice Ball in her hand, but not putting it in her mouth.

The sea breeze made her wisps of hair brush against her forehead and around her eyes, but she was too lazy to brush them away. She just lowered her eyes and stared blankly at the few sesame seeds on the Rice Ball.

A female ninja approached and asked softly, "Young Miss, what's wrong? Don't you have an appetite?"

The girl placed the Rice Ball on her lap, and after a long while, she spoke softly, "Is what we're doing really right? To destroy another race for the sake of one race... this kind of thing..."

The aunt sat down beside her, reached out, and gently put her arm around her shoulder.

"The Land of Whirlpools was destined to be destroyed. Even if we didn't go, the Land of Lightning and the Land of Water wouldn't have stopped. By coming, we can at least minimize the damage and let them suffer less."

"Moreover, in order for the survival of the Tsuchigumo Clan, we must acquire greater power, otherwise we will be the next targets."

"Your father suffered more than anyone else when he made this decision. But he was the Clan Head; he couldn't just consider right or wrong, he had to consider the lives of hundreds of people in the clan."

The girl thought that wasn't the case; her clan possessed such great power, how could they possibly encounter something bad that affected the entire clan?

But then she thought about what they were planning to do, and couldn't help but apply it to the Tsuchigumo Clan.

Just thinking about it sends chills down my spine.

"But even so..."

The man beside him couldn't stand it anymore.

He shouted, "Stop talking nonsense. War is a matter of life and death. If you don't eat others, others will eat you. If the young lady doesn't even understand this principle, how will she carry the banner of the clan in the future?"

The girl's shoulders visibly trembled, but she neither turned around nor argued back.

The man snorted coldly, and the others chuckled. The female ninja looked at them and sighed softly.

The girl sat on the rocks for a while longer, then put the untouched Rice Ball into her cloth bag, stood up, and patted the sand off her skirt.

I'm going to clear my head.

The female ninja did not stop her, letting her figure disappear into the depths of the wooded path beside the dock.

The girl walked along the forest path for a while, and the moonlight filtered through the gaps in the tree canopy, casting large and small patches of light at her feet.

She walked slowly, her mind still replaying the man's words and the aunt's hesitant eyes.

She lowered her head, watching her toes tread on fallen leaves and pebbles, feeling a tightness in her chest, but not knowing who to talk to.

Then she stopped.

She saw a few fresh leaves.

She looked up and jumped to the treetop, where she noticed faint footprints left by Ninja Footwork on a thick branch.

Someone has been here! The Shipyard's location has been revealed!

She stood up, turned and ran.

"Young Miss?" The female ninja asked, puzzled, seeing her rush back. "What's wrong?"

"Footprints, there are footprints in the woods. Not ours, very fresh, just left." The girl gasped for breath, trying to make her voice sound less panicked. "Someone discovered this place."

Meanwhile, in a secluded warehouse on the other side of the Shipyard, another meeting was underway.

The workers, seated around the long table, lowered their voices and discussed something.

"Those outsiders have pushed us to the margins, while they occupy the best docks for themselves. They're making a ruckus all night long, with patrol boats coming and going, making it impossible to concentrate on any recent work."

"I heard they've even set up camp inside the factory, occupying several warehouses, eating and sleeping there, as if they're planning to stay there permanently."

"This is our Shipyard, why should we let them take over our place?"

"Three more orders have fallen through this month. Customers are hesitant to place orders as soon as they hear our factory builds the ships, fearing trouble. If this continues, we won't even have enough to eat, let alone pay our wages!"

"We must take back our shipyard!"

"This month of lying low has given us enough manpower and enough evidence. We've kept a detailed record of everything those outsiders have done on our turf. Since they're breaking the rules, let the Merchants' Association decide. We'll march to the Merchants' Association's gate, demanding our jobs back and that those outsiders get out of our Shipyard. What do you all think?"

There was a moment of silence in the warehouse, then one hand went up, followed by a second, a third, and more and more people raised their hands.

The sun had already set on the horizon, and Hashirama and Madara walked back along the coastline, stepping once again onto the cobblestone streets of the Hot Spring Street.

The lanterns on both sides of the street were all lit, their warm yellow glow casting long and short shadows on the stone pavement.

The smell of Sulfur was stronger than during the day, mingling with the aroma of grilled fish and warm sake wafting from the Izakaya, creating a comforting, homely atmosphere.

"I've been busy all afternoon and haven't even had a sip of water." Ban rubbed his stomach. "Let's go back and eat something."

"Sigh, I reckon Izuna and Tobirama aren't back yet. They've probably already eaten. Let's just grab something to eat outside." Hashirama walked towards a food stall that was still open on the street.

The vendor was brushing oil onto the griddle, and the squid tentacles curled up under the high temperature, making a sizzling sound and filling the air with a delicious aroma.

Hashirama and Madara both swallowed hard.

"Boss! Ten servings of squid balls, please!"

"Okay!"

Hashirama was about to take out his wallet from his sleeve, a group of people suddenly surrounded him.

These men were dressed in matching dark short jackets with tight cuffs and Short Sword at their waists. The leader gripped the hilt of his knife and sized him up, his gaze lingering on his long, flowing hair and sharply defined face for a long while before he spoke in a cold voice, "Inari! We've finally found you."

Hashirama paused, startled. "Huh? Who?"

"Don't play dumb!" The guard with the sword took a step forward, the blade gleaming coldly in the moonlight. "Look at your long hair, your face! Don't think we won't recognize you just because you've changed your clothes!"

The thugs behind him echoed him, their eyes scanning Madara warily beside Hashirama.

Hashirama frozen in place, looking down at the clothes he was wearing, then touching his long, loose hair, his face filled with confusion.

Ban stood beside him, arms crossed, watching the show, showing no intention of helping him out of the predicament.

Hashirama tried to explain, but the guards identified him as "Inari" and approached him step by step, even drawing their swords.

He was just about to slip away when a voice suddenly came from the side.

"Hey, you guys are really being rude! You're actually mistaking me for that rough guy!"

The guards all turned their heads. Hashirama followed suit and saw who had spoken.

The person did indeed have long hair, a sharply defined face, honey-colored eyes, and was wearing a dark green kimono. He was glaring angrily in their direction.

He pointed to himself, then to Hashirama, raising his voice by half an octave. "I'm not that dark-skinned, am I? And I have much better taste than him!"

Hashirama subconsciously glanced down at his jacket, half of which was soaked by seawater, then at the other person's exquisitely tailored dark green kimono, and couldn't help but mutter, "Why is someone here criticizing my taste...?"

But the guards had already turned and chased after the man. Seeing the guards rushing towards him, the man turned and ran, his dark green robes flashing as he disappeared around the corner of the alley.

The guards chased after them, cursing and swearing, their footsteps quickly swallowed up by the noise of the Hot Spring Street.

Hashirama tucked his wallet back into his sleeve, took the squid roll the vendor offered, took a bite, chewed it a couple of times, and still felt that what had just happened was a bit inexplicable.

He turned his head and met Madara's thoughtful gaze. He couldn't help but ask, "Madara, am I really that unsophisticated?"

"You don't seem to care at all about that pursuer?" Madara said, taking another serving of squid rolls with a helpless expression.

Hashirama, chewing on Hashirama, asked vaguely, "So what did you see when you stared at him for so long?"

Ban said, "He does look quite like you."

"Is there?"

"I meant body shape. If you only look at the outline, it wouldn't be surprising to mistake one for another at night."

"That's true, so is my taste really that bad?"

Ban glanced at him sideways. "Don't you know that yourself?"

Hashirama, despondency.

Ban looked at him like this, but felt a little heavy-hearted.

When he first saw the person named Inari, he was momentarily struck by the thought that he looked exactly like Hashirama.

Even though the two are completely different from head to toe, from their appearance to their facial features, they inexplicably feel very similar.

Why is that?