Wind hurled grit against his face, rough and abrasive. Rinto tugged his hood lower, brushed the sand from his collar with his fingertips, and frowned almost imperceptibly.
Noon in Falling Sand Town was far drier than the coast of the Land of Whirlpools. The adobe walls baked until they looked dusted with white frost, while street vendors' cries, clashing weapons, and drunken curses tangled together and bored into his ears. Rinto automatically filtered out the noise, his gaze sweeping only the shop signs on either side. He kept walking, his fingers unconsciously tracing half a basic Yin Release configuration on the fabric of his cloth bag.
He had been here for three days.
Half a month ago, after driving Orochimaru back on the coast, the first thing he had done upon returning to the laboratory was pack all his core research materials. The Land of Whirlpools had been exposed. If Orochimaru could find his way there, Danzo's men and bounty hunters from other shinobi villages would only keep coming. Time was what he could least afford to waste in this life. Completing the island's defensive line had already forced him to delay optimizing the Senjutsu Anchor for half a month. He did not want to go through that a second time.
After the fishing boat docked in the Land of Rivers, he avoided populated areas and headed straight for Falling Sand Town-a black-market territory under no one's jurisdiction. Nobody checked wanted notices here. As long as someone had something to trade for resources, they could survive. More importantly, he could find the records on Yin-Yang Release he currently needed most.
He had already achieved a complete senjutsu circulation loop and refined the Dynamic Reconstruction of Barehanded Jutsu Casting to its limit, but his next step had stalled. All his previous research had revolved around chakra's "flow and form," yet chakra's foundation was the binary fusion of physical and spiritual energy-what the Shinobi World called Yang Release and Yin Release. His materials on this subject consisted of scattered peripheral records from Konoha's Research and Development Department and a few passing mentions in the Land of Whirlpools' fragmentary scrolls. He could not even piece together a complete logical framework.
Unless he filled that gap, his research could not move forward at all.
The courtyard he rented stood in the town's most remote corner. On his first day, he had first installed three layers of sensory anchors with frequency-scrambling camouflage along its walls, then fitted the rooms with soundproofing and blast-resistant configurations. Before even unpacking his bedding, he had set up his workbench and locked away the dozen or so crates of experimental records and core schematics he had brought from the Land of Whirlpools. Only after eliminating every security risk did he discover that he had less than half a piece of high-purity crystal jade left, barely enough starfall iron to engrave two experimental configurations, and almost no blank scrolls.
He had come out today for two reasons: to replenish his materials and find texts that could fill the gap.
He turned into the largest ninja tool shop at the street entrance. A jumble of kunai and Explosive Tags covered the counter. The bearded shopkeeper was polishing a blade with his head lowered. He glanced up, saw Rinto's faded coarse-cloth jacket and lack of even a Forehead Protector, then lowered his head again, not bothering to greet him.
Rinto said nothing. He placed his cloth bag on the counter, took out three fingernail-sized pieces of starfall iron, and lined them up neatly. Each bore a basic configuration he had casually engraved during his journey: wind, lightning, and earth. Compared with the version he had demonstrated to Orochimaru back in Konoha, their dissipation rate had been reduced to below 4%.
"Trading for materials." His voice was level, without much inflection. "Two jin of high-purity crystal jade, one jin of starfall iron, twenty blank sealing scrolls, and two diamond engraving knives."
The man scoffed, casually picked up the piece bearing the Wind Release configuration, and weighed it in his hand. His tone was utterly dismissive. "Kid, this scrap of iron..."
Before he finished, he unconsciously let a trace of chakra slip through his fingertips.
There was no shrill whistle through the air, only the faintest hiss. An intensely condensed wind blade shot from the front of the iron, pierced straight through the half-meter-thick load-bearing earthen wall, and left a smooth, clean opening on the other side. Not even a stray ripple of chakra escaped.
The iron clattered from the man's hand onto the counter. His face went white. He sprang to his feet and bowed so low he nearly pressed against the countertop, his dismissiveness replaced entirely by cautious fawning. "Please wait! I'll get you the best stock from the storeroom right away! I guarantee the purity!"
He turned and ran for the storeroom, his steps slightly panicked. After more than a decade running a ninja tool shop, he knew exactly what that little piece of iron meant. No hand seals, no aptitude for the chakra nature, and only a trace of chakra to release a stable Chunin-level Wind Release attack. This was no ordinary ninja tool. It was hard currency that could save lives on a battlefield.
In less than two minutes, he ran back carrying materials wrapped in oilcloth. He also threw in several packets of Chakra Paper and high-precision conductive fluid, all consumables commonly used in experiments, piling them high on the counter.
"Please check the quantities. If it isn't enough, I'll get more!" The man rubbed his hands, smiling until his face creased all over. "Do you have any more ninja tools like these? I'll buy as many as you have, at the absolute highest price!"
Rinto did not answer. He packed the materials into his cloth bag. They were heavy, but he seemed not to notice as he turned and walked out. To him, these ninja tools were merely a means of obtaining materials. Another word would only waste time he could spend experimenting.
Watching him leave, the man did not dare follow. He merely clicked his tongue, wondering what secluded big shot this was, whose casually produced wares were already so terrifying.
Leaving the ninja tool shop, Rinto headed straight for the texts section deep within the black market. It was even more chaotic than the street entrance. Ragged cloths spread across the ground held old scrolls with curled edges, scorch marks, and wormholes. Each vendor's pitch was more extravagant than the last: either "the Second Hokage's forbidden jutsu manuscripts" or "secret Uchiha Fire Release techniques." To his eyes, it was all worthless trash.
He walked past the stalls one by one, scanning the writing exposed on the scrolls. Most were scams that gave the basic Three Body Technique a different name, or useless fragments too incomplete to retain any coherent logic. None even touched on Yin-Yang Release.
The longer he browsed, the tighter his brow drew. His fingertips unconsciously stroked the engraving knife he had just bought inside his bag, while the stalled Yin-Yang Release framework kept turning over in his mind. How exactly did spiritual energy use Yin Release to transform from the intangible into the tangible? What configuration accomplished the "yin governs form" mentioned in the Land of Whirlpools' fragmentary scrolls?
After browsing for nearly half an hour, he stopped.
The stall in the farthest corner was utterly out of place amid the surrounding clamor. A blind old man wrapped in filthy robes leaned against an earthen wall, his eyes closed. Only a dozen or so damaged silk manuscripts lay on the rag before him. Most were missing edges or corners and looked like unwanted wastepaper.
What caught Rinto's attention was a half-scroll of scorched silk at the very edge. The exposed characters were in the ancient seal script of the Land of Whirlpools, which he had spent more than half a year studying. He could just make out the words "Yin Release," "spirit," and "manifestation of form."
Rinto approached and crouched. Just as his fingertips were about to touch the silk manuscript, the old man spoke without opening his eyes, his voice as hoarse as gravel grinding together. "Ask the price first. You couldn't afford to damage it."
His hand stopped in midair. He looked up at the old man, his tone as flat as ever. "How much for this scroll?"
The old man raised one finger. "One million ryo. Not a coin less."
Several nearby onlookers immediately burst out laughing. Someone whistled. "Has the blind old bastard gone mad? A million ryo for half a burned-up book? Why not just rob someone?"
"Exactly! Even if it really came from the Land of Whirlpools, in that condition, a hundred thousand ryo would be the absolute limit!"
Amid the laughter, the old man kept his eyes shut and his face expressionless, refusing to budge on the price.
Rinto ignored the surrounding noise. A thread of chakra finer than a hair gathered at his fingertip and silently probed the silk manuscript's surface. Three nested layers of seals locked its core contents away completely. No wonder the old man possessed it yet had no idea what was written inside.
He withdrew his hand and looked at the old man. "This is the latter half of volume three of the Land of Whirlpools' secret Yin Release teachings. Seventy percent has burned away, leaving less than a third of the contents. You can't undo the seals. Keeping it is no different from keeping wastepaper."
The old man's eyes flew open. Cloudy white cataracts covered his pupils. Though he could not see, he faced Rinto fixedly, unable to conceal the shock in his voice. "You recognize the Land of Whirlpools' ancient seal script? You can undo these seals?"
He had bought this scroll from a grave robber ten years ago. Over the years, he had consulted countless sealing masters and scholars, but none recognized its writing, much less could undo its seals. His million-ryo price had been an outrageous opening demand. He had never expected this unremarkable-looking young man to identify its origins at a glance.
"Whether I can undo them is none of your concern." Rinto lowered his gaze and tapped the rag with his fingertips. "Two hundred thousand ryo, plus three fixed-configuration ninja tools like the ones from earlier, for this silk manuscript. Agree, and hand it over. Refuse, and I leave."
He had no interest in bargaining. The money and ninja tools meant nothing to him. Obtaining Yin Release research materials mattered more than anything.
Before the old man could answer, three men suddenly pushed their way over. Their scar-faced leader wore a black mask, his exposed eyes full of viciousness. He glanced at Rinto, then fixed his gaze on the silk manuscript and grinned at the old man, his voice harsh and grating. "Old blind bastard, I'm taking this. A hundred thousand ryo. Wrap it up."
As he spoke, he reached straight for the manuscript, chakra faintly surging around his hand. His two companions edged forward as well, hands resting on the kunai at their waists, plainly intending to take it by force.
The surrounding laughter stopped at once, and everyone backed away. This scar-faced man was a notorious desperado in town, with more than a dozen lives on his hands. Nobody wanted trouble.
The old man frowned and was about to speak when Rinto spoke first.
He remained crouched where he was, not even raising his head or glancing at the three men. He spoke only two words, softly, but with an unquestionable chill. "Don't move."
"Hah?" The scar-faced man sounded as though he had heard a joke. His hand did not stop; instead, it moved faster toward the manuscript. With his other hand, he drew a kunai and thrust it at Rinto's shoulder. "Kid, you won't take a hint, huh? Get lost, or I'll deal with you too!"
Rinto did not move.
The instant before the kunai touched his shoulder, an almost invisible thread of chakra slipped from his fingertip, forming an exceedingly fine Lightning Release pattern. There was no explosive crack, no flash of lightning, only a nearly imperceptible tingle that traveled up the kunai and into the scar-faced man's arm.
The scar-faced man froze.
The nerves throughout his right arm were instantly paralyzed, and his kunai clanged to the ground. He opened his mouth to shout, only to discover that even his throat muscles would not obey him. He could only stand rigid as cold sweat sprang from his forehead. He could clearly feel that strange chakra burrowing inward along his chakra pathways. A little farther to one side, and it could paralyze his heart.
At the sight, his two companions immediately drew their kunai and started forward. Rinto finally raised his eyes and swept them with a gaze so flat it held no warmth at all. Both men froze instantly.
That attack had made no earthshaking commotion, yet it had silently disabled the scar-faced man's arm. After so many years in the black market, they knew exactly what that meant. This unremarkable-looking young man was someone they absolutely could not afford to provoke.
The two exchanged a glance, hurriedly supported their rigid leader between them, and pushed out through the crowd without looking back. They did not even dare pick up the fallen kunai.
The onlookers fell completely silent. Their eyes were filled with apprehension as they looked at Rinto again. Without hand seals, he had casually incapacitated a desperado. That was at least Jonin-level strength!
As though nothing had happened, Rinto looked back at the old man and asked again, "Are we trading or not?"
The old man's throat bobbed, and he hurriedly nodded. "Yes! Yes!" Blind though he was, he had heard what had just happened clearly enough. He also knew that this silk manuscript would remain wastepaper for the rest of his life if he kept it. The money and ninja tools he could receive in exchange were tangible benefits.
He carefully picked up the silk manuscript and offered it to Rinto. Rinto took it and tucked it inside his clothes, close to his body. Only after confirming it was secure did he lay down a banknote for two hundred thousand ryo and place three fixed-configuration ninja tools on the rag, then rise and leave.
He spoke no unnecessary words throughout, and his steps never faltered, as though the little interruption had been no more than a speck of dust brushed away.
The people around him automatically cleared a path. Nobody dared speak, much less entertain any designs on him.
After leaving the texts section, Rinto quickened his pace slightly. The fragment inside his clothes drew his attention like a magnet. He was already considering how to undo those three nested seals and whether the contents could fill the gap in his framework.
Just as he neared the black market's entrance, two people in black robes passed beside him, their hushed conversation drifting into his ears on the wind.
"...Will that fragment related to the Six Paths really be offered at the underground auction in three days?"
"The black market's boss acquired it personally. I heard it came out of a forbidden area in the Land of Fire and contains Yin-Yang Release and secret Six Paths teachings. The opening bid alone is five million ryo. People from all the major factions will be there."
"There's also a sealing manuscript by the Second that leaked out of Root, fragments on Sunagakure's Magnet Release... Plenty of good stuff."
Rinto stopped dead.
A fragment related to the Six Paths? A sealing manuscript by the Second Hokage leaked from Root?
The most systematic records of Yin-Yang Release in his possession all came from the forbidden jutsu research notes of the Second Hokage Tobirama Senju. Back at Konoha's Research and Development Department, he had seen only a few scattered pages. If he could acquire the complete manuscript, it would be more useful than ten fragmentary scrolls from the Land of Whirlpools. And that was before considering the Six Paths material. Everyone in the Shinobi World knew that the Sage of Six Paths had been the supreme master of Yin-Yang Release.
He had originally intended to seclude himself and begin researching as soon as he acquired the fragment. He had not wanted to spend another minute in this town. Now, however, he had to attend this auction.
He stood there, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the silk manuscript inside his clothes, and quickly weighed it in his mind. Three more days in exchange for a chance to obtain core research materials. Worth it.
Just then, he frowned.
The sensory net spread around him detected two abnormal chakra fluctuations. One belonged to the scar-faced man whose arm he had just paralyzed. He was hiding with others at the mouth of an alley, his presence full of venom, yet he did not dare approach. Not worth mentioning.
The other, however, lurked within the black market's bustling crowds. Its chakra was suppressed deeply, and its fluctuations carried traces of Root's distinctive sealing jutsu anchors, which he knew all too well. Back in Konoha, he had encountered the chakra signatures of Danzo's subordinates far too many times at the Research and Development Department. There was no mistaking them.
They had followed him here.
Rinto's gaze grew colder.
He only wanted to acquire his materials in peace and return to his research, yet these persistent pests insisted on coming over to make things difficult for him.
He neither looked back nor stopped, continuing toward his rented house outside town. Only the fingers hanging at his side moved slightly. Several miniature sensory and countermeasure anchors silently followed his chakra down to the ground, then drifted on the wind toward that chakra presence.
First, undo the fragment's seals. As for these nuisances, they had better not disturb me. Otherwise, I wouldn't mind leaving them in Falling Sand Town forever, so they couldn't keep interrupting my experiments every few days.