At the entrance to the civilian residential district stood a rusted iron sign, with several large words painted in white: "Seventh Defense Zone—On Alert at All Times."
Sasuke stopped before the sign and turned to the four Hokage. "More than three thousand civilian families live here. Before the war, this was the poorest part of Konoha. Now... see for yourselves."
Hashirama frowned and followed Sasuke into the residential district.
The houses lining both sides of the street were dilapidated, with large patches of plaster fallen away to expose the earthen bricks beneath. Yet on every windowsill sat a black iron box of identical size.
Tobirama walked up to the nearest house and knocked on the iron box. The sound of metal clashing came from inside.
"What is this?"
Sasuke answered expressionlessly, "Weapons crates. Every household is issued two Defender rifles, one hundred rounds of ammunition, and three grenades. During wartime, every adult must take part in the defense."
Minato stopped and stared at those iron boxes, his voice trembling slightly. "Everyone? Even the elderly and women?"
"Yes." Sasuke pointed to a three-story building at the end of the street. "That's the community command post. Every defense zone has a retired ninja serving as commander, responsible for coordinating firepower and evacuation routes."
Hashirama took a deep breath and walked to the door of a house. Through its battered window, he saw an old woman in her sixties sitting inside, wiping down a rifle.
The old woman moved with practiced ease—disassembling the bolt, cleaning the barrel, and reassembling it all in under two minutes.
Hashirama knocked on the door.
The old woman looked up. Seeing the four people at the door, she froze for a moment, then set down her rifle and stood. "You are...?"
"We are..." Hashirama paused, unsure how to