"Mm… am I back home? Looks like someone arrived afterward…"
Wakaze muttered to himself, his eyes taking in the familiar bedroom. Then he noticed a familiar figure standing nearby.
"Grandfather."
The old man gave a quiet nod. "It's good that you're awake. Good… good…"
He spoke softly and handed Wakaze a cup of water.
Wakaze remained lying down as he took the cup, then asked, "Grandfather… nothing too serious happened afterward, right?"
His grandfather shook his head.
"How could there not be? Iwagakure shinobi infiltrated Konoha and nearly assassinated Nawaki. The Senju clan is furious. Remember—Nawaki is the First Hokage's grandson. His only grandson. The future head of the Senju clan. That alone makes his life more valuable than most."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"This time, both the Hyūga and Uchiha clans were mobilized. They've been sweeping the village for spies. Last night alone… I don't know how many people died."
As he spoke, his gaze settled meaningfully on Wakaze.
"Yesterday, when you faced the assassination… you used the ocular technique sealed within your eyes, didn't you?"
Wakaze nodded without hesitation.
"Yes. A jōnin appeared. Even though he was suppressing his chakra, I had no way to fight him head-on. I had no choice but to rely on the three techniques Father left behind. I didn't expect them to be so terrifying… That flame born of extreme rage reduced a jōnin to ashes in an instant."
His grandfather narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
"A flame-evolving dōjutsu… I see. No wonder those bodies were reduced to ash. Fortunately, our people were the first to arrive. That makes things easier to explain."
Wakaze blinked. "Our people?"
"When Nawaki dragged you away, your assigned guards followed. That's how they arrived so quickly. They're loyal men. They erased the traces of battle. As for the jōnin who burned to death, all evidence has already been cleaned up."
He continued calmly, as if discussing something trivial.
"If anyone asks, you say there were only three genin. As for Nawaki, I've already removed his memory of the jōnin. Katsuyu being destroyed requires no explanation—the summon can always be called again."
Wakaze nodded slowly. He was startled by his grandfather's efficiency, but under the current circumstances, no suspicion would lead back to him.
At that moment, a maid entered.
"Master, Young Master… lunch is ready. Also, Miss Kushina and Miss Mikoto came again to ask about the Young Master's condition."
A faint smile appeared on his grandfather's face.
"Very well. See that those two little girls are brought here."
Then he looked at Wakaze with an amused expression.
"They're both good girls. One from the Uchiha clan, one from the Uzumaki clan. Excellent bloodlines. Quite compatible."
Wakaze rolled his eyes.
"I'm six years old. Please don't talk about things like that."
His grandfather chuckled.
"Fine, fine. Eat more of the red meat later. It will help your recovery."
Wakaze merely shook his head in quiet amusement. His body felt brimming with strength—there wasn't even a trace of injury left.
He had swallowed the Qilin Blood Wood early on precisely because he feared being seriously wounded. Although he couldn't unleash its power explosively like Tsunade might, its primary effect—stimulating vitality and healing injuries—had already taken place.
The punch from the jōnin. The wounds from the kunai. All of it had healed.
As for the additional effects… Wakaze now noticed a faint, elegant fragrance clinging to his body, almost like it could repel insects.
He felt slightly awkward.
A man emitting a natural body fragrance… no matter how he thought about it, it felt strange.
But he understood—this too was part of the Qilin Blood Wood's effect.
Not long after, lunch was served. Kushina and Mikoto arrived as well.
The three of them ate while chatting casually, as though nothing unusual had happened.
…
When lunch ended, Wakaze lay back on his bed and watched Kushina and Mikoto leave.
"Still too weak," he murmured to himself.
This time he had been dragged into danger by Nawaki's recklessness—but it also exposed his own weakness.
To deal with a mediocre genin, he had relied on a blade from the world of Swallowed Star. Killing the jōnin had depended entirely on the Mangekyō technique sealed in his eyes—and that technique could only be used three times.
Now one use was gone.
Only two remained.
Wakaze clenched his fists.
He knew he was only six years old—but the shinobi world would never care about age. The battlefield did not spare children.
He stepped off the bed, feeling the strength coursing through his restored body.
"I hope the new trash contains something worthwhile this time… preferably something that can increase my strength."
As he spoke, his figure vanished from the bedroom.
He still remembered the moment before he lost consciousness yesterday—the Garbage Station had reacted again. New trash had appeared, waiting to be received.
At the time, he had been puzzled. Why would killing someone trigger new trash?
Now he understood.
After the battle, he could clearly feel that he had improved—not just in one aspect, but overall. Physical strength. Mental fortitude. Killing intent.
People often said that walking the line between life and death brought both terror and opportunity. Having survived such a crisis, he had grown.
The appearance of new trash confirmed it.
As Wakaze grew stronger, the Garbage Station would respond in kind. If his improvement was minor, the trash would be ordinary. But after significant growth, the quality—and quantity—would rise.
A silent, empty space twisted into view as Wakaze arrived within it.
He stood in the vast, barren Garbage Station and said lightly,
"It's much more comfortable when there's no trash lying around."
Perhaps it was a mild obsession with cleanliness—but he disliked seeing his space cluttered with piles of junk.
His gaze fixed on the distorted vortex at the center.
"Pour out. Let's hope this batch is better."
The words had barely fallen when the vortex trembled violently.
"Boom—!"
A thunderous roar echoed as the warped vortex spewed forth an enormous torrent of trash.
It cascaded down like a landslide, piling up into a small mountain.
Wakaze's eyes narrowed.
"What…? Why so much? There's even more than last time."
The previous batch from the Swallowed Star world had already been massive—after all, that world was practically apocalyptic, with debris everywhere.
And yet this time—
There was even more.
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