In the forest, Wen Lan—still running—spotted figures ahead. With a leap, he landed in a clearing.
It was his squad.
He had only just graduated from the Ninja Academy and was technically still a Genin who hadn't even gone through the bell test yet.
But in terms of strength, he was already at the higher end of chūnin level.
Because manpower on the front lines was stretched thin, even newly graduated students had been sent to the battlefield.
There were seven people in total—four children and three adults.
Among the children, the youngest was only five years old, and the oldest no more than ten.
Yet their eyes held a resolve completely mismatched with their age.
Some even showed traces of excitement—the excitement of being able to contribute to the village.
The adults consisted of one jōnin and two chūnin.
This was Konoha Year 47. The Third Shinobi World War was already nearing its end, yet Iwagakure still harbored ill intentions and wanted one last clash with Konoha.
The conflict had entered its final, most intense phase.
The jōnin leading the team was Sarutobi Ciqian, a member of the Sarutobi clan.
When Wen Lan landed in the clearing, everyone immediately raised their guard. But once they recognized him, looks of disgust and alienation surfaced in their eyes.
The reason was obvious.
The large "ping-pong paddle" emblazoned on his back said it all.
The Uchiha clan.
To be honest, ever since the Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, took office—especially with Shimura Danzō working behind the scenes—the Uchiha clan had been smeared relentlessly.
On top of that, the Uchiha were in charge of the thankless Konoha Police Force, commonly referred to as the Military Police.
Everyone knew what that really meant.
A police station.
Arresting people, catching thieves, maintaining village order—doing all the dirty work that inevitably offended others.
After all, Konoha wasn't that big.
Sooner or later, the people you arrested would include someone's relatives or friends.
Gradually, in the eyes of the villagers, the Uchiha clan became synonymous with words like cold, heartless, cruel, evil, and inhumane.
This prejudice spread through the village like a malignant tumor.
From a young age, whenever Wen Lan left the Uchiha residential district, anyone who saw the Uchiha crest on his back would cast him strange looks—as if he might pull out a kunai and stab someone at any moment.
This baseless hostility left Wen Lan disheartened, to the point that he couldn't even be bothered to explain.
He understood long ago:
Prejudice was far harder to defeat than any ninjutsu.
After all, when it came to smearing others, Sarutobi Hiruzen and Shimura Danzō were absolute veterans.
Just look at what happened later to Uzumaki Naruto.
The son of the Fourth Hokage, the so-called prince of Konoha, a hero's child—yet he was ostracized and suppressed into that miserable state.
If Wen Lan were Naruto?
He'd release the Nine-Tails on the spot.
Bully me?
Then none of you live!
And he'd make sure to do it while Hiruzen and Danzō were inside the Hokage Tower—personally breaking the seal right there.
As for those civilians?
Heh.
When an avalanche comes, not a single snowflake is innocent.
Sarutobi Ciqian looked at Wen Lan and asked calmly, "How was it?"
They were a supply convoy. Under normal circumstances, such a unit had to carry out its mission without distraction. No matter what happened, they were not allowed to stop.
Earlier, they had heard cries for help. Ciqian had ordered Uchiha Wen Lan to investigate, while he himself led the others away from the source of the sound.
"Three Iwagakure ninjas were chasing a heavily wounded Konoha ninja. I killed the Iwagakure ninja. The Konoha ninja is still there," Wen Lan replied coldly.
Even though they currently formed a seven-man supply squad, the three adults and four children all kept a clear distance from him—barely concealing their rejection.
Naturally, Wen Lan had no obligation to warm his face against their cold indifference.
Sarutobi Ciqian took a deep look at Wen Lan. He said nothing more, only speaking lightly:
"Continue moving."
With that, he pressed forward.
To him, responding to the distress call had merely been a matter of convenience. His true mission was to transport supplies.
A supply mission required secrecy and total focus. Any unnecessary action could invite unwanted trouble.
If Wen Lan saved someone, Ciqian could claim it as good leadership—after all, he had sent Wen Lan.
If Wen Lan died, then Ciqian could lead the others to kill the Iwagakure ninja, earn merit for himself, and conveniently eliminate an "evil" Uchiha brat.
Even the excuse was ready:
We didn't abandon the mission for unnecessary actions. Our teammate was killed by Iwagakure ninja, so we retaliated—and avenged him.
Killing two birds with one stone.
The unit continued onward, passing through dense forests and rolling hills. Night gradually fell, and a cool breeze swept through the trees.
Along the way, Wen Lan silently walked at the rear of the formation—neither too close nor too far, as if maintaining a subtle distance from the world itself.
He was used to it.
Used to being excluded. Used to being kept at arm's length.
Finally, as night fully descended, they spotted a camp ahead.
It was Konoha's forward base against Iwagakure.
Before they could even approach, a sharp whistling sound cut through the air. Everyone dodged instinctively as a kunai flew past Wen Lan's ear and embedded itself in the tree behind him.
Wen Lan didn't move at all.
He merely looked calmly in the direction the kunai had come from, his gaze steady as still water.
"We're a supply transport unit!" Sarutobi Ciqian immediately raised his hand and shouted.
Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—
Three figures leapt down from the treetops, landing in a triangular formation around them, clearly surrounding the group.
Sarutobi Ciqian quickly produced his mission orders. At night, anyone approaching the camp without authorization would be treated as an enemy immediately.
However, the leader—his face painted with the distinctive markings of the Inuzuka clan—didn't even glance at the orders. Instead, he crossed his arms and looked at Wen Lan with a grin.
"Kid, still as cold as ever, huh?"
Wen Lan rolled his eyes.
"Uncle Ya, careful or I'll tell Aunt Claw. You won't be allowed on the bed tonight."
"Hey! You little bastard! Are you asking for death?!"
Inuzuka Ya glared, eyes wide, rolling up his sleeves as if to strike.
Wen Lan's lips curled slightly, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes.
"Better think it through. If I really end up marrying Hana, I'll be living in your house, eating your wife's cooking, sleeping in your daughter's bed… oh, right—and spending your money."
"F*ck! Let go of me! I'm gonna kill him!"
Inuzuka Ya exploded, lunging forward—only to be grabbed firmly around the waist by the person behind him.
"Enough, enough, Ya," said Akimichi Tangdong, helplessly restraining him.
"You know your daughter. She practically sticks to Wen Lan all day in the village."
"Not to mention whether you can even beat him—if you really hurt the kid, your daughter will flip out on you."
Inuzuka Ya froze, then let out a helpless sigh. His struggling stopped.
Akimichi Tangdong released him, patted his shoulder, and then looked at Wen Lan with a much gentler expression.
"Alright, Wen Lan. Don't tease him anymore. The mission comes first this time."