The caravan finally came to a halt before the designated dockside warehouse. The sea breeze, thick with salt, rushed over them. The air was alive with the port's chaos—sailors bawling out shanties, horns of incoming ships bellowing, the screech of ropes and pulleys as cargo was hoisted.
Porters got straight to unloading, while Tanzai bustled about with forced cheer, his smile the brittle kind one wears after narrowly avoiding disaster.
Roshi found a quiet stone step near the warehouse, where he could keep the docks and the main road in view, and sat down.
Anko stood nearby, arms folded, the hood of her dark purple trench coat draped carelessly over her head. Her sharp eyes never stopped scanning the crowd. Itachi settled silently at Roshi's other side, expression unreadable.
"The Land of Tea's governance over its territories is loose," Roshi explained, his voice calm, his gaze still sweeping. "As long as taxes are collected and no major incidents break out, they hardly care who's really in charge. That's how those bandits managed to turn themselves into 'officials.' Likely, they were granted authority directly from the Daimyo."
Still, for a band of mere highway brigands—even two or three hundred strong—to be officially sanctioned? Unlikely, unless there were deeper reasons. In this world, raw numbers meant little. Soldiers, no matter how many, could not withstand a ninja's ninjutsu. Even a Genin, with some patience, could infiltrate using Transformation Jutsu and scatter such a group from within.
Piecing together Konoha's intelligence with Tanzai's very different account, Roshi was already forming conclusions.
By now, Tanzai had wrapped up the first round of business. He hurried back over, wiping sweat from his forehead, wearing a smile equal parts gratitude and unease.
"Captain Roshi! Esteemed sirs! You've worked so hard—truly, truly hard! The Haifi Pavilion inn here on the docks is clean and well-kept. I've already booked rooms for you. Please, I beg you, stay a few days so I can properly express my gratitude! Of course, all expenses will be on me!"
That was the excuse. In truth, cargo handovers would take several days, and Team 5 had technically completed their mission the moment they reached Deai Port. After helping resolve the entry-tax extortion, they could have walked away. But Tanzai knew better—if the guards discovered his escort had left, trouble would soon follow. Keeping Roshi and his team close was his only safety net.
It was his own mistake for not considering risks beyond simply reaching the city when he posted the mission.
"Alright," Roshi said after a brief pause of thought.
Tanzai nearly bowed to the ground with relief, thanking him profusely before personally escorting them to the inn.
The Haifi Pavilion stood on a quieter street at the fringe of the docks, a three-story wooden inn whose simple exterior was well-kept. The innkeeper, a reserved middle-aged man, betrayed a flicker of reverence when he saw the three Konoha headbands. He quickly arranged the best rooms on the top floor.
Roshi's room was at the far end. From its window, he could see the sprawl of the harbor and the endless blue sea. Anko and Itachi retreated to their rooms to rest, while Roshi lingered by the window, watching the bustle below.
The streets were noisy, disorganized, and crawling with the so-called guards—Chayama Gang thugs now dressed in armor. They roamed in packs of three or five, tossing unfriendly looks toward the Haifi Pavilion, but none dared draw too close.
Before long, Anko returned, her trench coat swapped for a dark combat outfit, her hair tied back in a loose knot. She looked impatient, almost eager.
"Captain, there are some shady types watching us from downstairs. Want me to clear them out?"
Now that their 'true nature' was exposed, Anko had no qualms about using her fists.
Itachi stepped in as well, having finished unpacking. That was when a stir rose from the lobby below, followed by the innkeeper's strained voice—
"Wa..Wasabi-sama? Why have you personally…"
A measured, steady voice cut in, gentle yet carrying undeniable weight—
"It's fine. I heard that Konoha's esteemed guests are here. Jirocho has come to pay his respects. Please announce me."
Wasabi… Roshi recalled that Deai Port was dominated by two major families—the Wasabi and the Hejies. For years, they alternated authority over the city. If the Chayama Gang had forced their way in, then at least one of these houses had been displaced.
"Anko," Roshi said, his tone even. "Let Wasabi-san up."
"Yes, Captain~" she replied, sing-song but alert.
Moments later, heavy yet steady footsteps sounded on the wooden stairs. A middle-aged man in a dark gray silk kimono entered with Anko. He carried himself with unhurried dignity, his build tall and sturdy, the walk of someone trained in taijutsu. His neatly combed hair, lean face, and composed demeanor framed eyes that were kind on the surface yet sharp with worldly wisdom.
Wasabi Jirocho, head of the Wasabi Family, had come in person.
His gaze swept across the room, pausing first on Anko's impatient frown, then on Itachi's calm, unreadable expression, before finally settling on Roshi by the window. Though Roshi and Anko seemed to be of similar age, their presence couldn't be more different. The same man who had acted with such force at the city gates now stood reserved and composed. Jirocho quickly concluded—such decisiveness was no act of impulse.
"I must apologize for this unannounced visit," Jirocho said with a practiced humility, bowing slightly. "I am Wasabi Jirocho. May I have the honor of your name, distinguished guest?"
"Roshi," came the calm reply. Roshi pulled out a chair, his voice steady as stone. "Wasabi-san is being too polite. Please, have a seat."
Jirocho nodded his thanks and sat down. His tone sharpened. "Roshi-kun, your actions at the city gate were… rather reckless."
"Tch." Anko shifted against the doorframe, arms crossed, her scoff as cutting as a kunai.
Roshi's expression didn't so much as twitch. He tapped a finger against the wooden tabletop—thud, thud—a soft rhythm that underscored his even tone. "Oh? And why do you say that?"
Jirocho's smile lingered, though his eyes carried weight. "Hokage-sama himself left me with words meant for Roshi-kun, should you arrive in Deai Port."
The statement drew a subtle reaction. Itachi, silent until now, finally turned, his dark eyes narrowing with quiet thought.
Roshi remained still, his calm unbroken. His voice came like still water, neither hurried nor hesitant. "I'm listening."
Jirocho folded his hands. "The Wasabi Family and the Hejies Family have long contested the right to govern Deai Port. Until recently, we were evenly matched. But half a month ago, the Hejies Family allied themselves with the Chayama bandits lurking outside the city. With their numbers, they seized control of the town."
He leaned forward, his composure cracking with indignation. "Had it ended there, for the sake of stability, we might have endured it. But to secure their loyalty, the Hejies Family has given those wolves free rein! They extort merchants, levy absurd taxes, and exploit the people without restraint! If this continues, Deai Port will rot from the inside out."
His gaze hardened. "That is why I turned to Hokage-sama for aid."
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