Creak...
The door to the Anbu dormitory opened. Standing before Qingyu was a ninja wearing a mask.
He lost count of how many times he had seen Anbu ninjas; every single one was masked, making it impossible to tell who was who.
"Qingyu, Captain Eaton is calling for you," the ninja said in a deep voice.
"Understood," Qingyu nodded.
"Take this." The Anbu reached into his tool pouch, pulled out a mask, and handed it over. "Wear it."
"Yes." Qingyu took the mask. It was predominantly white, with black and red patterns forming the face of a cat—a feline mask.
"Hurry over. I have other duties and won't be escorting you." With a flicker of movement, the ninja vanished.
Qingyu looked at the empty corridor and responded unhurriedly. He put the mask on. As it settled into place, he finally felt like a true Anbu. Except for his eyes, his entire face was hidden.
A sudden sense of security washed over him.
I should wear a mask more often, he thought. For someone with a secret system, hiding his identity felt perfect.
Qingyu moved quickly to the Torture Force's "little black room." To his surprise, it was no longer dark. Candles were lit in sconces along the walls, banishing the shadows. For the first time, he saw the room clearly, including the various interrogation tools previously hidden in the gloom.
Nearly thirty people were gathered. Aside from Captain Morino Eaton in his black trench coat, everyone was masked. The atmosphere was quiet and the air pressure felt heavy. Qingyu found a corner in the back and stood silently.
Ten minutes later, Eaton spoke.
"It's time."
His voice cut through the silence, drawing every eye to him.
"I've called you all here for an internal meeting of the Torture Force."
Eaton's low voice signaled the gravity of the situation. Qingyu listened intently.
"About half of you experienced the Second Shinobi World War," Eaton began, his gaze sweeping the room. Even with masks, veterans recognized each other. "You know how this department operates during wartime. But the other half of you are newcomers. You are untested and unpolished. I am here to warn you: get your bodies ready for a wartime state—immediately."
He paused, letting the words sink in.
"Based on the intel we've gathered through spies and interrogations over the past few days... war is coming in the near future!"
A collective gasp rippled through the room.
War. A word no one wants to hear. Whether veteran or rookie, everyone knew what it meant: pain, loss, and trauma. It was unavoidable.
"You may have doubts," Eaton continued. "Let me explain simply. During the Second War, the Land of Fire, Wind, and Earth all suffered varying degrees of damage. Our military strength was depleted, forcing us to stop and recover. However, recent intelligence shows that the Land of Lightning is aggressively building up its military. They are eyeing the three of us like tigers watching prey."
"Furthermore, we—Fire, Wind, and Earth—are not on the same side. We are still at odds with one another. Following this trend, I predict..."
"Within three years at most, the flames of the Third Shinobi World War will spread across the ninja world!"
Eaton spoke with absolute conviction. This wasn't a guess; it was a deduction based on high-level intelligence.
"The main purpose of this meeting is to wake you up! Regardless of when the war officially breaks out, the Torture Force must handle intelligence gathering perfectly. Do you understand?"
"Understood!" the room roared in unison.
"Dismissed!" Eaton waved his hand.
The members filed out, returning to their posts. The Torture Force was a mature machine; it didn't need Eaton to micromanage every detail.
Soon, only three people remained in the room: Eaton, Qingyu, and one other masked Anbu ninja.
"You must be Qingyu."
The masked ninja turned toward him. Through the eyeholes, Qingyu could see dark, steady eyes, but the rest of his expression remained a mystery.
[End of Chapter 15]