Falling Sand Town, on the border of the Land of Rivers, was even more chaotic than Rinto had imagined.
The town sat beside the Land of Wind's border, battered by wind and sand year-round. Crooked adobe houses crowded together, and the streets teemed with cloak-wrapped refugees, wandering ninja carrying tool pouches, and black-market peddlers. Hawking, arguments, and rattling dice mingled into a skull-splitting din. Rinto pulled his battered hat lower, hiding his face more thoroughly. His coat was coated in dust and charcoal powder, making him look no different from a refugee on the road. No one gave him a second glance.
He first found a roadside noodle stall and ordered a bowl of hot noodle soup. As soon as the owner set the bowl on the table, he picked up his chopsticks and shoveled the noodles into his mouth, finishing the entire bowl in a few mouthfuls and draining every drop of soup. Only when warmth filled his stomach did the exhaustion of traveling nonstop ease. Then he felt his pocket, and his expression darkened again.
The cash he carried was pocket money Kabuto had occasionally slipped him. Altogether, it would barely buy a dozen or so bowls of noodles. Forget outrageously expensive materials like starfall iron and crystal jade-it was not even enough to rent somewhere to stay. He could not withdraw a single cent of the payment deposited in Konoha's bank. It had effectively all gone down the drain.
"Fuck," he muttered, pushing the empty bowl aside. He sat on the noodle stall's bench and frowned in thought. Robbery was beneath him, and he had no time for it anyway. But without money, forget research-even eating would be a problem.
After thinking for a long while, he took out the one small piece of crystal jade left in his pocket, along with the miniature engraving knife he carried, and bent over the noodle stall's greasy table to carve. He did nothing complicated, just a few basic portable chakra lamps and waterproof storage scroll configurations-things he had casually sketched before. They involved none of his core technology. Civilian goods sold best on the black market, and they would not expose his identity.
The engraving knife spun swiftly in his hand. In less than ten minutes, three palm-sized crystal jade lamps and two storage scrolls were finished. He put away the knife, tucked the goods into his pocket, and asked the stall owner, "Where's the black market?"
The owner looked him up and down, then jerked his chin toward the back of town. "Head that way. It's past those ruined warehouses. Be careful. It's a mess back there, and there are plenty of robbers."
Rinto grunted, tossed down the money for his noodles, and turned toward the black market.
Just as the owner had said, the farther back he went, the more chaotic it became. Dilapidated warehouses stood beside overlapping shacks, and vendors had set up everywhere, selling everything imaginable: ninja tools, medicine, intelligence, even fragments of forbidden jutsu scrolls. Their cries rose one after another. People were fighting in a corner, blood splattering across the ground, and no one intervened.
Rinto had no interest in watching the commotion. He found a stall that bought ninja tools and placed his chakra lamps and storage scrolls on the table. The vendor, a one-eyed middle-aged man, picked them up for a look, and his eye lit up. These chakra lamps were three times brighter than those on the market and used less mana. The storage scrolls also had more space than others of the same size. All good stuff.
"Name a price." Rinto wasted no words, his tone icy.
The vendor was straightforward too. Not daring to cheat him, he quoted a fair price, slightly higher than Rinto had expected. Rinto collected the money and headed straight for the material stalls. He selected high-purity starfall iron and energy-conducting crystal jade, then bought a stack of thick coarse paper, over a dozen charcoal pencils, brand-new diamond engraving tips, some blast-resistant asbestos boards, and glass sample tubes. By the time he had bought everything, more than half the money he had just earned was gone.
The material seller was an old man with a goatee. As he packed the purchases, he could not resist asking a few extra questions. "Young fellow, buying this much high-purity starfall iron-are you making high-end ninja tools? Do you take custom orders? I have plenty of customers who pay well."
Rinto lifted his eyelids and coldly tossed out, "No." He picked up the packed materials and walked away without another word.
Watching his retreating figure, the old man stroked his beard, a calculating look entering his eyes. Lately, the entire Shinobi World had been talking about a genius ninja-tool maker who had defected from Konoha, someone who could casually carve ninja tools with kekkei genkai. The bounty was terrifyingly high. So young, and buying so many high-end materials-could he have stumbled right into the old man's hands?
Rinto paid no attention whatsoever to what the old man might be thinking. His mind was filled with finding somewhere quiet to carve and test the four-attribute configuration. He did not rent a place in town. There were too many people and prying eyes, too much noise, and it would be easy for someone to come knocking. He walked nearly two li out of town and found an abandoned granary. Its adobe walls were thick enough to withstand a blowout, wild grass surrounded it, and the nearest home was half a li away. It was secluded enough to make a perfect temporary laboratory.
The granary's lock had long since rusted solid. He casually split it with a lightning blade and pushed the door open. Inside were dust, rat droppings, piles of rotten boards, and a musty smell. Frowning, he first threw out all the junk, then found a thick, level plank and set it across two stone blocks as a workbench. He laid the asbestos boards he had bought around it for blast protection.
By the time he finished, dusk had fallen. He first circled the granary, carving sensing anchors and trigger traps at the corners, by the door, and among the weeds. If anyone came within a hundred meters, he would know immediately. Anyone who dared force their way in would be blown away.
Only once everything was ready did he light a newly purchased chakra lamp. Warm yellow light spread across half the granary. He took out his oilpaper-wrapped plans and spread them open. The layered anchor structure he had revised on the road that morning was packed with lines and covered in corrections.
His previous approach had been to split the compatibility anchor into two layers, core and outer. But it could not even handle three attributes, let alone four. He had revised it again while fleeing, dividing the core anchor into four parallel sub-anchors, one for each attribute. When switching, he would activate only the corresponding sub-anchor instead of tearing everything down and rebuilding it. That would reduce the load on the core, speed up switching, and prevent chakra of different attributes from interfering with one another.
The theory held together. Now he just had to see whether it would work once carved.
He grabbed a fresh piece of starfall iron and secured it with a click in the vise on his makeshift bench-a miniature vise he had casually stuffed into his bag while fleeing Konoha. Without it, he would not even have had anything to hold the metal in place. After fitting a new engraving tip, he leaned under the lamp. His hand was especially steady as he lowered the blade. Even after days of pushing himself, it did not tremble in the slightest.
The granary was silent except for the faint scraping of blade against metal, occasionally punctuated by his curses. The newly purchased starfall iron looked pure, but it still contained impurities. The blade easily slipped on fine details. It was nowhere near the top-grade materials Orochimaru had supplied him before. At the slightest mistake, he irritably tossed the metal aside and started over with a fresh piece.
By the time he finished carving the entire four-attribute configuration, it was pitch-black outside. Even the noise from town had died away, leaving only the rustle of the night wind through the weeds. He worked his stiff, aching neck and wrists, removed the starfall iron, and walked to the thick earthen wall at the back of the granary. Taking a deep breath, he infused it with chakra.
The first shot, lava release, was stable. Acid melted a deep pit into the earthen wall, chakra flowed smoothly, and the sub-anchor activated precisely.
Switching to Explosion Release went smoothly too. The shock wave slammed into the wall, shaking some dust from the granary roof. There was no stuttering, and the residue cleared cleanly.
He switched again to Lightning Release. Lightning flashed, cutting a deep gash in the wall. There was almost no delay in the anchor switch.
The first three rounds were all perfectly stable. Rinto's heartbeat quickened a little as his fingertip pressed the fourth trigger point, switching to Wind Release.
The instant wind-nature chakra entered the channel, the four parallel sub-anchors suddenly interfered with one another. Wind Release's sharp chakra collided with lingering Lightning Release residue that had not been fully cleared. The core anchor overloaded instantly. With a sharp crack, the starfall iron shattered right in his hand, spraying scorching fragments across it and raising several red blisters on his palm.
"Fuck!" He abruptly let go and hurled the fragments to the ground, shaking his hand for a long while in pain as his anger surged.
Why were they interfering with each other? The four sub-anchors were clearly independent, each with its own channel. How had they collided?
He crouched, picked up the shattered fragments, and examined them under the lamp. The break was where the four sub-anchors converged. The main channel's junction had blown apart. So that was the problem-the four sub-anchors ultimately still fed into the same main channel. Even if the anchors were independent, the chakra streams would still collide in the main channel, especially during rapid switching. Before the previous attribute's residue had been completely vented, the next had already entered. It would have been stranger if it had not exploded.
Cursing, he sat back down before the plank, grabbed a charcoal pencil, and began revising the plans, muttering, "Damn it, so they can't share the main channel? Then four independent channels? No, too cramped. The starfall iron's only so big. There's no room to carve them... I still have to change the anchors. Lock the sub-anchors so the next one can't activate until everything's cleared? No, that'd make the delay too long. Same damn problem as before..."
As he drew, he lost track of time. The lamp's chakra was nearly exhausted, its light growing dimmer, but he did not notice. Then a sensing anchor outside the granary suddenly vibrated. Three chakra signatures were rapidly approaching the granary, already less than fifty meters away. They were the chakra fluctuations of Konoha Anbu.
Rinto's face darkened instantly, and he slammed his pencil onto the table.
Damn it, these bastards just wouldn't leave me alone. Here they came to waste my time again.
He quickly stuffed his plans and experiment records into his bag, slung it onto his back, and hooked a fingertip against the ring engraved with a kekkei genkai configuration. In a flash, he hid behind the granary door. The people outside had already reached the entrance. He could hear their lowered voices. "The sensing was right. He's inside. There were chakra fluctuations just now."
"Careful. The captain said he can casually unleash three kinds of kekkei genkai. He won't be easy to handle. Set up the sealing formation first. Don't let him escape."
Behind the door, Rinto rolled his eyes. Escape? He had no intention of escaping. He just wanted to get rid of these nuisances quickly so they would stop holding up his revisions.
Just as the people outside were about to break down the door, Rinto pulled it open himself. Lightning flashed at his fingertip, and a blade of energy three times faster than ordinary Lightning Release slashed straight at the Anbu in front, who was holding sealing tags. The man had never expected him to charge out on his own initiative. He hurriedly raised a kunai to block, but the lightning blade cut straight through it. The remaining force sent him flying, shredding all the sealing tags in his hand.
The remaining two Anbu reacted instantly, forming hand seals for their jutsu and hurling Fire Release and Wind Release at him together. Rinto sidestepped, and the Explosion Release ring at his fingertip flashed. A shock wave blasted into the incoming jutsu, blowing both attacks apart. Smoke and dust instantly enveloped the two Anbu.
He had no intention of wasting time on them. He would finish this quickly. Under cover of the dust, he sent out Wind Release blades, slicing straight through both men's ninja-tool pouch straps. Then he kicked one of them in the chest, sending him flying into the weeds, where he could not get up for a long while.
In less than a minute, all three Anbu lay on the ground, unable to fight back. Rinto planted a foot on the first Anbu's back and said coldly, "Crawl back to Konoha and tell the Third and Danzo to stop sending dogs to bother me. Come again, and next time it won't be a kunai I cut through."
The Anbu beneath his foot gritted his teeth and tried to say something. Rinto pressed harder, drawing a muffled grunt of pain, and the man did not dare make another sound. Rinto lifted his foot without killing them. It was not mercy; killing them would be a nuisance. If it brought even more people, that would waste even more time.
Supporting one another, the three Anbu fled in disgrace, not even daring to retrieve the ninja tools they had dropped.
Rinto closed the door and brushed the dust from his clothes. The sight of his workbench, covered in dust shaken loose by the shock wave, and the coarse paper scattered by the wind made him even angrier. He swore, picked up the plans and weighed them down, brushed the dust off the table, and sat back down to continue revising.
During the fight, an idea had suddenly occurred to him: no independent sub-anchors, and no shared main channel. Instead, he could make a switchable channel structure. When the anchor reconfigured, the channel would change along with it. Whatever attribute he used, he would build the corresponding channel. No need to carve it in advance-build it as needed, dismantle it as he went.
But the moment the thought occurred to him, he frowned himself. It was insane. Every attribute switch would effectively mean tearing down and rebuilding the entire channel and anchor. The precision required of the anchor would be absurd. The slightest mistake would cause a blowout. But if it worked, forget four attributes-he could fit five or six inside.
He stared at the blank coarse paper, hesitated for less than half a minute, then gritted his teeth and began drawing a new framework. Who cares if it's crazy, as long as it works? If it blows up, I'll revise it. Keep revising until it stops blowing up.
As he drew, dawn arrived. Morning light shone through the granary's broken window onto his densely covered paper. He had stayed awake all night, his eyes bloodshot, but he felt no sleepiness at all. The more he drew, the more smoothly it went.
What he did not know was that the old material seller from the black market yesterday had already sold information about him. Not just to Konoha's Anbu, but to Orochimaru's spies as well. Even Sunagakure's outpost had received word.
The little backwater of Falling Sand Town had already become the focus of multiple factions. Yet the man at the center of the storm had only one thing on his mind-drawing, carving, and testing this insane full-reconfiguration design. Whoever came to waste his time again, he would dare make sure they never returned.