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Mission Target
After a brief survey, Shirō quickly locked onto suitable targets—neither too strong nor too weak. Four chūnin. A perfect level of difficulty.
Shirō was well aware of his own capabilities. His current strength was more than enough to crush ordinary chūnin, but he was still far from reaching jōnin level.
Although he could technically secure victory in a single strike by relying on the unique nature of his Noble Phantasm, these opponents were different from the jōnin who typically carried out missions within the Five Great Ninja Villages.
In terms of raw power, they might not compare to village jōnin, but when it came to caution and survival instincts, these ninja were far more dangerous.
After all, most village ninja operated in teams and rarely acted alone. Over time, they became accustomed to frontal engagements, only resorting to feints or indirect tactics under special circumstances.
These people, however, were different.
They trusted no one and lived as lone wolves. As a result, they would never willingly engage in direct confrontation unless absolutely necessary.
This significantly limited Shirō's usual advantages. Unless he activated the stored energy within his Magic Crest, his chances of winning were not particularly high.
But that reserve was his final trump card—meant strictly for survival. He couldn't afford to reveal it casually.
Thus, Shirō chose the easier path. The rewards weren't low anyway.
Naturally, his targets came from minor ninja villages and among rogue ninja. He ignored bounties issued by the slightly larger hidden villages altogether—those were more troublesome and not within his current scope.
Once his decision was made, Shirō pulled out four bounty slips and returned to the old man.
"Information on these four."
Along with the slips, he placed several silver notes on the counter. They were officially called a deposit, but in reality, this was payment for intelligence—non-refundable regardless of whether the mission was completed.
Of course, one could gather information independently, but that would take far more time and effort.
The Exchange's intelligence wasn't particularly detailed, offering only general profiles, but it had one overwhelming advantage.
Real-time location data.
The underground Exchange possessed an astonishingly vast network, with branches scattered across nearly every corner of the shinobi world. Its information-gathering capabilities were correspondingly terrifying.
For most bounty targets, they held near first-hand intelligence. That alone was enough for most people to willingly trade with them—it saved time, and time was life.
Shirō was no exception. As a lone operator, conducting his own investigations would be painfully inefficient.
"Here you go."
The old man smiled as he handed over a thin booklet. "Young man, your strength isn't bad."
"Mm."
Shirō didn't elaborate. He simply tapped the bounty slips in his hand and asked, "Can I keep these?"
"Of course. Consider them a gift. Would you like me to introduce some higher-value missions?"
"No."
With that, Shirō turned and left without lingering.
These old foxes could pry out a person's background with just a few casual words. The more he spoke, the more openings he'd give them. Retreating immediately was the smartest option.
Compared to them, Shirō was still lacking—an experience gap that couldn't be bridged overnight. Recognizing this, he chose the wiser path and temporarily avoided their sharp edges.
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Shirō moved through the forest as he skimmed through the intelligence.
Three of his four targets were located in the Land of Rivers, while the last was in the Land of Rain. Aside from the Rain Country target, the other three were entirely unremarkable.
All were in their thirties—chūnin whose strength had been accumulated slowly through time. They were easy prey.
Yet their combined bounty amounted to a staggering ten million ryō.
One-third of Sarutobi Asuma's head price.
Shirō immediately guessed they must have offended a wealthy merchant. Otherwise, even chūnin wouldn't command such an inflated sum.
But the reason didn't matter. To Shirō, money was money.
He only skimmed their incomplete files before shifting his full attention to the final target.
The one in the Land of Rain.
Unlike the others, this man's intelligence was unusually detailed—and every bit of it had been provided directly by the employer. The bounty alone stood at a full ten million ryō.
Shirō slowed his pace and studied the file carefully.
Inoshita Toshiki.
A so-called genius from a small ninja village. A rare shinobi possessing all five chakra natures.
Unfortunately, talent alone meant little when born in the wrong place.
Due to his village's limitations, he had only learned C-rank elemental techniques—none of them refined, none of them advanced. Worse still, his bloodline was entirely ordinary, and his chakra reserves were painfully mediocre.
At best, he was a low-grade imitation of a "five-nature" prodigy—an awkward existence with no true specialty.
His village had been wiped out during the Second Shinobi World War when a squad of Amegakure ninja passed through. He survived purely by chance, having been away at the time.
He never even entertained thoughts of revenge. He understood his own limits far too well.
Instead, he drifted into the Land of Rivers.
There, fate played a cruel joke.
He stole the girlfriend of a merchant guild heir—and somehow succeeded.
Naturally, retaliation followed. Injured by ninja hired by the enraged heir, Inoshita barely escaped, leaving behind a harsh threat.
In another world, this might have been the start of a protagonist's rise.
Unfortunately, this was the shinobi world—where bloodlines decided destiny.
So he knelt. Completely.
At first, he relied on his identity as a shinobi to wander the Land of Rivers with impunity, even brazenly provoking the merchant heir by openly flirting with the girl.
It was here that the fatal weakness of a small village shinobi became painfully clear.
The merchant heir snapped.
Joining forces with the girl's family, they raised the bounty to ten million ryō.
Immediately, hyenas swarmed.
Inoshita was beaten all the way back into the Land of Rain, and even now, hunters continued to pursue him relentlessly.
The allure of money was truly terrifying.
Unless something miraculous occurred, Inoshita Toshiki was finished.
Without a bloodline to enhance his chakra and without high-level ninjutsu to refine his talent, possessing five chakra natures meant nothing.
At best, he was destined to become loose change in someone else's pocket.
The sheer detail of the intelligence made one thing obvious—the merchant heir hated him to the bone. Every scrap of information was laid bare, as though they feared he might somehow survive.
After closing the booklet, Shirō refocused on his journey.
There were too many people chasing that particular prey. He needed to eliminate the three targets in the Land of Rivers first—quickly—then rush to the Land of Rain.
Still, one thing puzzled him.
Why would Inoshita flee to the Land of Rain?
Even if Hanzō the Salamander held the title of "Demigod," he was still only one man. The Land of Rain was in a constant state of localized warfare—far more chaotic than most other regions.
Moreover, according to the intelligence, it had been Amegakure ninja who destroyed his village. There was no reason for him to seek refuge there.
If a merchant guild could uncover this much information, then Hanzō certainly could as well.
But everyone thought differently.
Shirō didn't dwell on it.
Some questions simply weren't worth answering.
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