Cross-Border Reporting in the Land of Rain and an Unexpected Twist for the Suspended Observer

The rain was still falling.

The fine threads of rain, like an endless net, enveloped this country in a perpetual dampness and oppression.

Namikaze Minato sat by the only window of the temporary camp, watching the muddy ground outside. He was nominally here to "reflect on his suspension," but no reflection could produce any result. What replayed in his mind over and over was not the rescue in the sea of sand, but Baishi's cold strategic calculation report.

Every number was like a precise scalpel, dissecting the beliefs in which he took pride.

The atmosphere in the camp was heavy. Kotetsu Hagane and Izumo Kamizuki were recovering from their injuries, but their spirits had never truly bounced back. Namiashi Raidō, on the other hand, did not seem to care; as a former Root ninja, he appeared long accustomed to this fate of being treated as a pawn by the higher-ups and discarded once used.

Minato was not about to stay idle.

The belief in heroism could be shattered by data, but the sense of responsibility carved into his very bones could not be washed clean by a rainstorm.

His gaze crossed the camp's crude fence, drifting toward the dimly visible Daimyo Residence of the Land of Rain amidst the distant curtain of rain.

Over the past few days, he had noticed a strange phenomenon. Every morning, a high-specification convoy quietly departed from the side gate of the Daimyo Residence, heading toward the refugee camp in the east. The convoy was heavily guarded, and the crates being transported all bore a Sealing Formula, not looking at all like they were carrying ordinary grain or medicine.

Raidō, Minato asked without turning his head, his voice very calm, *back when you were in Root, you should have come into contact with quite a