Deep in the Black Forest, Land of Grass.
The campfire crackled, its orange-red glow casting swaying shadows across the tree trunks. More than three hundred refugees sat in several circles, wooden bowls in hand, each filled with thin multigrain porridge.
Yet no one complained.
Because lined up neatly at their feet were rows upon rows of brand-new Defender-I heavy Bolters.
"Check the magazines one more time." Sato stood in the middle of the crowd, holding a half-disassembled rifle. "Check the catch position. Any rust?"
A young man raised the magazine in his hand and examined it carefully in the firelight. "No, Mr. Sato."
"Good." Sato nodded. "Remember, these aren't yours. They're rented. Each gun costs five hundred ryo a month. Damage must be compensated for. Loss costs double."
Whispers spread through the crowd.
A middle-aged man could not help speaking up. "Mr. Sato, we can barely afford food right now. Where are we supposed to get money for rent?"
Sato raised his head, his gaze sweeping across everyone.
"You have no money." His voice was calm. "But Iwagakure's ninja do."
He walked to the fire and pulled a crumpled sheet of paper from his clothes, unfolding it.
It was a bounty notice.
"Iwagakure Genin, fifty thousand ryo. Chunin, two hundred thousand ryo. Jonin, one million ryo." Sato read each line clearly. "Once the kill is confirmed, Konoha Root will pay the bounty. After weapon rental, ammunition costs, and logistical supplies are deducted, the rest—all of it—is yours."
The crowd fell silent for several seconds.
Then a subdued, low murmur erupted.
"Really?"
"Konoha will really pay us?"
"Then how much would we get for killing Earth Core?"
Sato did not answer. He merely took a stack of banknotes from his pocket and threw it onto the ground.
The firelight illuminated the