…
The warehouse emptied quickly after the settlement was done.
Hina dismissed her escorts with a look that communicated clearly that the remainder of this conversation wasn't their business.
As the doors closed, silence settled over the warehouse, as the two of them stood before the platform, looking at the beast.
"It's bigger than I imagined," Hina said.
"Hmm." Murakami hummed. This was also his first time seeing a beast of this size.
Hina went quiet for a moment, her eyes moving over the carcass with the practical assessment of someone calculating logistics rather than admiring the spectacle.
"What exactly do you intend to use this for?" she asked.
Murakami considered the question honestly. He could tell her upfront, but at the same time…
"I'm not entirely sure yet," he said. "I have a theory. But theories need results before they become anything worth explaining." He glanced at her. "I'll let you know once I have them."
Hina held his gaze for a moment, then gave a small nod and let the matter drop
She turned back to the beast. "And in the meantime?"
"I need a skilled butcher," Murakami said. "Someone who knows what they're doing with an animal this size. I want everything processed properly, the meat packaged separately by cut, the bones, the gall, the organs." He paused. "Everything with nutritional value. Nothing wasted."
Hina made a mental note without writing it down. "And delivered to your apartment?"
"All of it."
She nodded once. "I'll arrange it today."
Murakami took one last look at the beast on the platform, then turned toward the exit.
"Murakami."
He paused.
"Results," Hina said, without looking away from the beast. "When you have them.."
"You'll be the first to know," he said, and left.
…
Murakami left the warehouse and, once he was several streets away, slipped into a quiet alley.
A brief pulse of chakra dispersed the transformation. His frame shrank back to its natural proportions, and the charcoal haori disappeared into a storage scroll with a grey one replacing it.
By the time he stepped back onto the street, he was simply another civilian making his way home.
The familiar pace of the walk left his mind free to wander as he began reviewing the skills he had in his arsenal.
He had brought his Wind and Earth Release to a respectable level. Nature transformation no longer posed much of a challenge, but shape transformation was another matter.
While he could shape Earth Release with considerable freedom, his Wind Release remained bound by the forms of the techniques he knew.
Creating new shapes or refining existing ones with wind was a skill he had yet to master.
Genjutsu was serviceable, though anything below B-rank had long since begun to lose its appeal.
Against inexperienced opponents, D and C rank Genjutsu were sufficient, but against seasoned shinobi, they were little more than momentary distractions.
His Fuinjutsu remained practical rather than exceptional.
He was proficient with the standard low level foundations like the storage seals, preservation seals, heating and cooling seals, illumination seals, locking seals, alarm seals, drying seals, cleaning seals, and even standard binding and explosion seals for combat.
Individually, they were unremarkable, but their real value lay in combination.
An alarm seal linked to a binding seal could restrain an unsuspecting intruder the moment the perimeter was breached, while adding an explosion seal created a simple but effective trap that immobilized the target before detonation, ensuring the blast wasn't easily avoided.
Beyond refining and combining them in more efficient ways, there was little room for further growth until he gained access to higher-level sealing formulas.
Bukijutsu was equally solid.
His choice weapon, the staff, was where his skill was most developed.
Years of practice from the academy had given him a level of control that allowed him to exploit reach, leverage, and timing with minimal wasted movement in combat.
The weapon itself was simple, but simplicity rewarded mastery quicker.
Among shinobi his age, he doubted many could claim such breadth of skill.
Breadth, however, wasn't the same as strength.
He had enough knowledge to be considered well-rounded, but not enough mastery in any single field to stand among true elites.
There were only so many hours in a day, and every hour spent improving one discipline came at the expense of another.
His thoughts shifted to the era itself.
The current generation still valued direct martial ability above almost everything else. Taijutsu, Bukijutsu and physical strength remained the foundation by which a shinobi's worth was judged.
That would not last.
Only later, after Hiruzen Sarutobi earned the title of Professor through his mastery of all five elemental transformations, would ninjutsu begin occupying the center of the shinobi world's perception of strength.
The standard itself would gradually change.
Murakami had no intention of being left behind when it did.
Unfortunately, his understanding of the timeline remained incomplete.
Aside from Sakumo, he had yet to encounter anyone whose presence could firmly anchor him within history. Even so, the pieces fit together well enough.
The First Shinobi World War had yet to end.
An armistice would come before long, followed by roughly two decades of uneasy peace. It would be during that period that Sakumo, the Sannin, and countless other names destined for history would carve out their legends.
Which meant he only had one immediate objective.
Survive.
If he could survive the remainder of the war, time itself would become one of his greatest advantages.
His body would continue improving through the refinement of his skin, supported now by the Grade Four beast's dense vitality.
As his physical foundation strengthened, the power he could exert through the True Combat Technique would increase accordingly.
His mental clones would continue refining the Mountain Embracing Technique and the Shockwave Technique.
Only Phantom Step still lacked dedicated attention.
He had progressed from merely concealing the sound of his movements to disrupting visual tracking itself, leaving behind brief afterimages during high-speed movement in combat.
Fuinjutsu had reached a temporary ceiling.
Until he obtained more advanced material, forcing progress would accomplish little.
That left two disciplines worthy of immediate investment.
Ninjutsu.
And Genjutsu.
He silently reviewed his current arsenal.
The lower-ranked illusions had already begun falling behind.
Experienced chūnin broke free of them with uncomfortable consistency, a conclusion he had reached through repeated, discreet field testing on passing shinobi.
Fortunately, his concealment remained good enough that none had ever traced the attempts back to him.
Only two techniques continued meeting his standards.
Song of Darkness, which gradually dulled an opponent's senses the longer they listened to his voice.
And Shadow Weight, which convinced its target they were sinking into the earth, slowing every movement through perceived resistance.
Those would remain his foundation until he acquired something better.
His priorities settled into place.
First, continue strengthening his body with grade four beast's nourishment.
Second, refine the Spiritual Consciousness Inducement Technique and expand his spiritual reserves.
Third, continue developing the Mountain Embracing Technique, Shockwave Technique, and eventually Phantom Step.
Fourth, expand his understanding on ninjutsu.
Finally, seek stronger genjutsu worthy of long-term refinement.
The order was clear.
So absorbed was he in organizing the days ahead that he almost missed the approaching presence.
Almost.
His expression never changed as a hand reached silently toward his shoulder.
Then, Murakami moved.
His fingers caught the wrist in one smooth motion as he turned to throw the attacker over his hip.
The other figure reacted just as quickly, twisting free before the throw completed and landing lightly a short distance away.
"Oi... is that any way to greet a friend?" the figure complained, an almost childish pout sitting strangely on his face.
Murakami narrowed his eyes.
"Hatake-san."