Naruto's First Lesson, The Shinobi World's Cruel Reality

The scene inside the town was slightly better than the chaos on the main road outside, but it was still steeped in a heavy desolation.

The streets were fairly wide, but most of the shops on either side had their doors and windows shut tight. Of the few that were open, hardly any customers came by, and the shopkeepers sat listlessly behind their counters, their eyes empty.

Pedestrians hurried along, most of them sallow-faced, their clothes patched, their heads lowered as if afraid of drawing any attention.

A deep, oppressive feeling hung in the air, reminding Naruto of the Land of Waves he had visited before.

Naruto walked half a step behind Sasuke, still unable to stop himself from looking around.

There were poor people in Konoha too, and there were conflicts, but at least on the surface, it maintained a kind of order and vitality.

Here, though—everything was lifeless. The word "hardship" seemed written across every face.

It was different from the oppressed suffering he had seen in the Land of Waves. In the Land of Waves, everyone had a clear enemy, a target to resist.

But the oppression here seemed to seep into every brick and stone, every wisp of air. There was no specific enemy, yet it was everywhere.

When Naruto reached a relatively secluded side street lined with low buildings, a somewhat excited clamor came from a narrow alley beside it, piled high with junk.

Naruto stopped, tilted his head curiously to listen, then peered in the direction of the noise.

Deep in the alley, on a makeshift platform built from broken wooden crates and discarded door panels, stood a dark-skinned young man who looked to be just over twenty.

He wore a coarse short shirt washed pale with age and went barefoot, but his back