A border town in the eastern Land of Fire.
Ever since the Third Shinobi World War ended, this small border town with a permanent population of fewer than two hundred thousand had enjoyed more than a decade of peace and tranquility.
Though it had no major industries, its proximity to the border brought passing merchant caravans and travelers from time to time, allowing the townspeople to develop tourism and live increasingly stable lives.
Until the scent of war drifted in.
An army of thirty thousand samurai and fifty thousand mercenaries arrived in town, instantly shattering its peaceful atmosphere.
A chilling air of slaughter spread in an instant. Every townsman subconsciously hunched their necks, lowered their heads, bent their backs, and walked carefully through the streets.
Naturally, there were quite a few dark-hearted, twisted bastards among the samurai. Yet they still cared about appearances, and their lifelong training in "samurai honor" kept them from having much impact on the town.
Only a few unlucky residents had accidentally brushed against some samurai lord's sword while walking and been thrashed with the hilt.
Mercenaries were different.
Mercenaries were often two sides of the same coin. On one hand, they worked as bounty hunters, killing targets. On the other, they themselves were far from clean and were wanted by others. Most were naturally overbearing bullies who preyed on the weak and feared the strong.
Fifty thousand mercenaries flooded into town, and the authorities arranged temporary quarters for them.
But they were neither soldiers nor samurai and could not stand being managed. That very day, more than half the mercenaries stormed into town, picked houses they liked the look of, kicked down the doors, and swaggered inside to take up residence.
Seeing the town descend into chaos, civilians from the surrounding areas who had somewhere