"Sir, I don't dare take your money. The Land of Water is hell right now! People are being killed everywhere-even the seawater is red! You're still so young. Do you really want to go there to die?" Fear covered the old boatman's weather-beaten face, as though the very name "Land of Water" were a terrible curse.
Shengu Xuan leaned against the gunwale, tipped his head back to take a mouthful of fiery Thunderclap Sake, and smiled with utter indifference.
"Hell? Let's see which is worse-that so-called hell or my temper. Cut the crap and set sail. Take the money. If we run into trouble, I guarantee you'll keep that old life of yours." Shengu Xuan pulled out another wad of banknotes and forced it into the old boatman's arms.
Faced with the lure of money and Shengu Xuan's unquestionable tone, the old boatman finally gritted his teeth and untied the mooring rope.
The passenger boat sailed across the turbulent sea for several days. As they drew closer to the Land of Water, the air grew unusually damp and cold. A thick pall of gloom shrouded the sky year-round, leaving sunlight no way through.
When the passenger boat finally entered the waters of the Land of Water, a white fog so dense it seemed impossible to disperse greeted them.
This fog was more than a natural phenomenon. It seemed like a physical manifestation of oppressive, bloody despair. A faint scent of rust drifted through the air-the smell of dried blood. This was the scar left behind by the terrifying land known as the "Bloody Mist Village" under the rule of the Fourth Mizukage, Yagura.
"Sir, there's a remote harbor in the Land of Water just ahead. This is as far as I can take you. Any farther in, and if we