Make Them Cry!

Make Them Cry!

After all the information had been registered, they were sent to the orphanage.

There, children like them would begin new lives. Before long, many families who had lost children to the war would come here to adopt them.

Even if no one adopted them, it was fine. If they had talent, they could attend the Ninja Academy at the age of six and receive a certain subsidy.

And even if they had no talent for becoming ninjas, or simply did not want to become one, that was fine too. The population was scarce now; as long as they were willing to work hard, they would never starve after finding a job.

In short, as long as there were people, there would always be somewhere for them to shine.

Shimiya Aoba, who had shown a little of his talent, was not worried about his future at all. As long as his undercover identity was not exposed, Konoha would never give up such a promising prospect as him.

Over the next few days, Konoha would surely send people to gather every scrap of information about him.

Although the village had long since been destroyed, traces of someone having lived there could always be found. Besides, he might not have been the only survivor from Tachibana Village.

But so what?

His existence was real, and everything he had said was real as well. As long as Obito did not suddenly appear and expose him, there would be no flaws.

Konoha would not actually bring in an intelligence ninja who specialized in interrogating enemies and turn him into an idiot, would they?

So there was no need to rush. There should be an answer in a few days.

With that in mind, Aoba hastily finished dinner and went to sleep, exhausted. This body was truly pathetic. Using [Hardening] for such a short time had worn him out badly. It seemed he needed to improve his physical fitness as soon as possible.

In the blink of an eye, a week passed.

During that week, these newly arrived war orphans gradually adapted to life in the orphanage.

After all, the children here had all gone through roughly the same things. They were merely huddling together for warmth.

But no matter where they were, once there were enough people, all sorts of oddballs would start popping up.

There were lonely, withdrawn ones who ignored everyone; there were those who cried all day long; and of course, there were also those who bullied others just because they were a few years older...

Shimiya Aoba had originally watched everything with cold indifference. He was new here and did not want to stir up trouble. Besides, he strongly suspected that someone was hiding in the shadows, observing his every move.

It was not that he had a persecution complex. He simply had to be cautious.

But his radiance was as dazzling as the sun. It would have been one thing if several little girls kept finding excuses to run over to him—after all, though this body was small, the breathtaking handsomeness of his features had already begun to show.

But his looks and his low profile had still brought him trouble.

Sure enough, while they were eating, several big, burly brats—each a head taller than him—came over to pick a fight, relying on their age.

"Hey, runt! I'm talking to you!"

Aoba, who was grimacing as he tried to suppress his astonishing appetite, looked up in confusion.

"You're so short, so you probably can't eat this much, right? Sigh, I can't help it. Yamashita here just loves helping people. Let me help you eat it, then. After all, wasting food is a bad habit. You don't have any objections, do you?"

A triangular-eyed boy, accompanied by two lackeys, glared down at him aggressively.

"Heh, what right does trash like him have to object?"

"That's right! Boss Yamashita thinks far too highly of him. It's his honor that you're willing to eat his food!"

The two lackeys flattered him eagerly.

The others nearby looked indignant, but no one dared meddle. They all quietly sped up their meals.

There were no adults around right now, and no one dared offend Yamashita's little group, who were bigger than them.

And Yamashita and the others had seen through their timid, peace-seeking behavior, which was why they dared act so tyrannically.

Of course, the worst things they could do were limited to snatching some food when adults were absent, or teaching a few clueless little kids a lesson now and then to show off their power.

To be honest, Aoba truly did not think much of these people, nor had he intended to teach them a lesson.

But across two lifetimes, no one had ever dared snatch his food.

Going hungry was no big deal, but going hungry over something this disgusting was simply making things difficult for himself.

Perhaps because it sensed his true thoughts, the system, which had been silent for some time, suddenly came back to life!

Ding!

Death-Seeking Mission issued!

Mission Name: The King Sent You to Patrol the Mountain

Description: Subdue others with strength and establish your authority with your fists. Make at least ten brats cry.

(The more brutal you are, the better. Someone is watching you from the darkness.)

Mission Reward: Worn Wooden Treasure Chest x1

Mission Failure: You can fail even this? You might as well kill yourself!

EMMMMMMMMM...

This could generate a mission too?

Aoba stood up, questioning his life a little, but the system's description confirmed one thing for him: someone really was watching him, observing him in secret.

He had actually wanted to act harmless, to put Konoha at ease.

But that damn system wouldn't let him!

This was practically forcing a decent man into prostitution!

Damn it!

Seeing the little runt in front of him pick up a tray and offer it over, Yamashita's eyes flashed with disdain. He was just about to throw out a few more insults and warn the brat to stay away from Kotama in the future.

But the words at his lips suddenly turned into a scream!

With a sharp crack!

The tray in Aoba's hands shattered all over the floor!

No one had expected someone so skinny and small to strike first. Aoba suddenly jumped up and smashed the tray over Yamashita's head.

"Ah! Get him! Beat him to death!"

Yamashita, whose head had been split open, shouted in shock and rage.

But having chosen to make his move, Aoba pressed his advantage and charged forward without mercy.

In a flash!

One of the lackeys suddenly had several bloody scratches across his face. The pain made him howl, tears streaming down his cheeks.

After activating Hardening, a layer of tough keratin covered Aoba's right hand.

Its defensive power was rather worrying, but it was more than enough to deal with a few half-grown kids who knew nothing.

And since it only covered his right hand, the stamina drain was not too severe. He could hold on long enough to beat Yamashita and the others to the ground.

"M-Monster!"

"Ah!"

After several successive screams, Yamashita and the others, their faces ruined, all collapsed to the ground in terror. The way they looked at Aoba was filled with fear.

After taking down all three of them, Aoba was panting as well. This body was simply too weak and small.

If he hadn't caught them off guard from the start, and if the damage caused by Hardening hadn't frightened them, this mission really would have been difficult to complete.

To say nothing else, if he took even one kick head-on, he would basically be reduced to getting beaten up.

But fortunately, he was weak—but his enemies were even weaker!