Kanbara Hayato had never met anyone quite like Logan.
Their relationship had evolved rapidly. At first, Hayato had thought:
"This guy is dangerous. I should be careful."
Then it changed to:
"Don't worry. Just give me a bit more time—I'll find a few more targets for you."
And now?
"Brother… Brother Logan! Please, take a break already! If you don't stop, I'll collapse. I swear there's no one left to hunt!"
Logan calmly pushed Hayato aside and opened the cabinet behind him.
Empty.
"No more?" he asked.
"Really. There's nothing left."
In just half a month, Logan had stormed through the region like a hurricane. Every B-rank or higher fugitive and rogue ninja had been captured and delivered to Hayato.
"This is the last commission that came in," Hayato said, handing Logan a heavy suitcase. "Please rest now. The moment I get new business, I'll be the first to call you."
Logan opened the case. It was packed with thick stacks of bills.
He pulled out one bundle, set it on the desk, and pushed it toward Hayato.
Hayato looked puzzled. "The client already paid my commission, you know."
Logan shook his head. "This isn't commission. It's overtime pay. Sorry for disturbing you so much these past few weeks."
In the last fifteen days, Logan had efficiently collected a massive number of soul fragments. That success was largely thanks to Hayato's help.
The intelligence broker was stunned by the gesture. He had worked with many bounty hunters, most of them morally questionable. He'd done his research on Logan too. The guy had a tragic past—massacre survivor, internal betrayal within a village, forced to go on the run.
Hayato had expected someone cold and filled with hate.
Instead, Logan had proven calm, courteous—even generous.
He stood and extended his hand seriously. "It wasn't a problem. This is my job. But working with you? It's been a pleasure."
Logan shook his hand firmly. "Likewise."
"Oh, by the way," Hayato said, as if remembering something, "There's one more piece of intel. Well… it's more of a friendly heads-up."
He leaned forward, lowering his voice slightly. "Konoha's Root organization has entered this city."
Sasuke stiffened. His voice trembled. "Mu—Konoha? What… what does that have to do with us?"
Logan gently placed a hand on Sasuke's head and shook it slightly, calming him.
Hayato, a skilled intelligence dealer, had naturally uncovered their identities long ago. They had simply chosen not to acknowledge it. Everyone pretended not to know, maintaining a mutual understanding. But now that Hayato had brought it up directly, it would be disrespectful to pretend otherwise.
The Root operatives were not necessarily the strongest in direct battle, but under Danzo's twisted command, they were experts in infiltration, assassination, and ambush.
Logan had been bold these past few weeks, eager to collect fragments. The exploits of the "big and small bounty hunters" had become famous across several towns. Naturally, that fame drew unwanted attention.
"I understand. Thank you," Logan said.
"You're welcome," Hayato replied. "Also…"
He opened a drawer and pulled out two Konoha forehead protectors.
"Are you sure you don't want to pose as rogue ninjas? The Root's already onto you. If you go public as defectors, you'll get more jobs and higher-paying clients."
Being a rogue ninja sent a clear message:
"I'm being hunted by my own village—and I'm still standing. Want to try me?"
Clients loved that kind of edge. It conveyed power, danger, and independence.
From a business perspective, hiring a rogue ninja also came with lower risk. If the ninja died before completing the job or delivering results, the client didn't have to pay.
And among all the villages, rogue ninjas from Konoha were the most desirable.
Sasuke looked tempted.
Logan waved his hand dismissively. "No need. We're not ninjas."
Hayato shrugged and walked them to the door.
---
A proper break wasn't complete without a bath.
Logan leaned back in the tub, a towel resting on his head, enjoying the soothing warmth of the water.
Sasuke swam nearby, completely naked, occasionally diving underwater or floating on his back with his little butt in the air.
For all his brooding, he was still just a seven-year-old child.
Logan smiled at the sight, then wiped his face with the towel and opened his system interface.
He had hunted nonstop, day and night, capturing fifty-three fugitives and rogue ninjas. His soul fragment count had jumped from 152 to 614.
On average, each target provided fewer than ten soul fragments—a testament to how varied people's strength truly was.
Soul Fragments: 614
That equaled 61 draws in the system.
Last time, it had taken 55 pulls just to land Ripple Breathing.
Logan's instincts told him: this time, a five-star Stand was coming.
He didn't like drawing small batches randomly. He'd been saving these for a half-month, just for today.
Closing his eyes, he inhaled slowly—held it—then exhaled.
Time to draw.
First ten draws—nothing.
Twenty—still nothing.
Thirty—no luck.
Forty—still empty.
Fifty—silence.
But Logan remained calm. Unlike the first time, his emotions were steady.
Only ten draws remained.
His instincts whispered:
It's time.
Ten glowing stars shot across the sky. A flash of light, hundreds of meters long, erupted—
Ding ding ding ding ding!
Five flashes. Five stars.
Logan clenched his fists.
All his effort had finally paid off.
The glowing silhouette slowly faded, revealing…
A retro-style fighter plane, straight out of the World War II era.
It was no bigger than a laptop, armed with dual machine guns on each wing, and a bomb suspended beneath its fuselage. In the cockpit sat a thumb-sized pilot.
The tiny pilot looked up and gave a two-fingered salute—index and middle fingers tapping his forehead.
Stand Name: Aerosmith
Star Rank: ★★★★★
Original Owner: Narancia Ghirga
Ability: Long-range control Stand with dual machine guns, bombs, and a CO₂ detection radar. The radar locks onto carbon dioxide emissions, allowing it to track living beings, though precise targeting still depends on the user's judgment.
Current Level: 1
Note: Smith is the pilot's name.
Logan's eyes lit up. "So, it's this Stand…"
Since leaving Konoha, he'd been studying the JoJo's Bizarre Adventure manga in his spare time. Over the last two months, he'd read the series multiple times, memorizing various Stand abilities.
Aerosmith wasn't as powerful in direct combat as Star Platinum, but its strengths lay elsewhere.
It filled Logan's weakness in medium and long-range combat, allowing him to apply pressure, zone enemies, and control the battlefield—preventing opponents from kiting him.
But more importantly…
Aerosmith's value lay in its reconnaissance abilities.
While airborne, it could scan and locate enemies using its CO₂ detection radar.
In the original series, Narancia had limited control and poor judgment due to his immaturity. But in Logan's hands—sharpened by Ripple Breathing, exceptional focus, and battle-hardened experience—Aerosmith would be devastating.
Most crucially, only those who imbued large amounts of chakra into their eyes could even see a Stand.
After Logan's battle with Kakashi, Konoha realized that visualizing his Stand required extreme chakra output.
In a straightforward duel, that wasn't much of an issue.
But in guerrilla warfare or urban skirmishes, who would constantly burn chakra just to see an invisible enemy?
Having an invisible, airborne recon drone was a huge tactical advantage.
"…Let's give it a try," Logan whispered.
He lifted his right hand at a slight angle, using it like a makeshift runway.
Whoosh!
Aerosmith launched skyward, zipped out the window, and soared into the sky.
"Activate recon."
At once, Logan's vision changed.
Hundreds of red dots appeared within range—each one a living being, their CO₂ emissions registering on his radar.
Instant battlefield awareness.
For a world still trapped in early-stage tech, this was dimensional superiority.
Then Logan activated Ripple Breathing.
His concentration narrowed, the radar refined its search, and the surrounding map grew crystal clear.
The fighter jet tracked the shapes and trails of exhaled CO₂. By observing its dispersion through walls, wind, and space, it outlined the entire surrounding area like a living 3D map.
Within a 30-meter radius, every breathing creature was exposed.
Their movements. Their position. Their presence.
"It's like Byakugan… but with aerial bombing," Logan muttered, grinning.
This wasn't just a new tool—it was a game-changer.
With Aerosmith, Logan could eliminate blind spots, deny ambushes, and engage before enemies even got close.
"Return," he commanded.
Aerosmith began to circle back toward the bathhouse.
But then, it halted.
On the roof, the Stand detected a man—motionless, prone—spying on Logan through a tiny crack in the ceiling.
Logan looked up calmly.
Through the gap in the roof, a pair of dark eyes met his own.
pàtreøn (Gk31)