Early the next morning.
Murakami Hana looked at Hyūga Akira and asked with some curiosity,
"Did someone piss you off again? Why do you look so gloomy? Can't you smile anymore?"
In the past, Akira always wore a smile on his face—though it carried a chilling edge, the kind that made people feel like he might strike at any moment.
Now, however, his face was cold as ice, like someone owed him several million ryō and still hadn't paid up.
Smile your damn head off.
Akira stared at Murakami Hana expressionlessly and asked,
"When are we leaving?"
He'd been planning to change classes smoothly—only for the system to suddenly throw a quest at him, and one that might even involve crossing worlds.
Who the hell could stay in a good mood after that?
The excitement he'd felt earlier had plunged straight into the abyss.
If he weren't completely outmatched, he would've loved to let Murakami Hana experience just how "well" he could smile—while venting some of his pent-up frustration.
What do you mean I can't smile, you bastard?
I was never the cheerful type to begin with.
"We can leave right now," Murakami Hana shrugged.
As far as he was concerned, everything there was to know about Muyū had already been investigated.
Anything still hidden simply couldn't be dug out anymore.
The only person who might've known was Kusumori.
And Murakami Hana had zero interest in asking a dead man questions—he still wanted to live.
"Let's go." He glanced at the胖忍者 who was pretending to be busy nearby.
"Wait a moment," Akira said, walking over to the fat ninja.
The moment Akira approached, the man visibly shuddered.
Akira originally wanted to put on a friendly smile to ease his nerves—but he really couldn't force one out.
So he settled for a stiff, fake smile and lightly patted the man's cheek.
"I'll come back to visit you sometime."
The fat ninja looked like he was about to cry.
His entire body was wrapped in bandages—every one of them courtesy of Akira.
The guy was finally leaving, and yet he was still threatening to come back?
Is he really that vindictive?!
But Akira wasn't doing this out of spite.
It was a blatant warning.
Nagato was still living in this city.
Whether or not Uchiha Madara had already noticed Nagato, Akira didn't want to leave behind any potential threats.
As long as Akira was alive, this fat ninja wouldn't dare touch Nagato.
It was insurance.
Sure, as time passed, the threat would lose its bite—but by then, if the fat ninja dared to make a move…
Uchiha Madara would probably have a lot to say to him.
And those people had far fewer scruples than Akira ever would.
Murakami Hana saw everything but didn't comment.
In the Hidden Rain, status and strength were law.
If your position was high enough and your fist hard enough, everyone else bowed their heads.
To fight—
That was the rule of Amegakure.
The two of them left the city, Murakami Hana leading Akira swiftly through the forest.
Akira discreetly activated his Byakugan and noticed something immediately.
Their route was anything but direct.
They doubled back repeatedly—sometimes even circling the same area twice.
Classic route-obfuscation.
Murakami Hana offered no explanation, simply leading him around in loops.
Akira didn't ask questions either, quietly keeping his Byakugan active and memorizing the path.
With Byakugan's penetration vision and his post-transmigration memory, terrain like this posed no challenge.
If it were anyone else, they would've been completely lost by now.
Remembering Hanzo's legendary caution in the original canon, Akira wasn't surprised at all.
Under normal circumstances, the journey should've taken two days at most.
Murakami Hana stretched it into five.
And they stayed within dense forest the entire time.
Midway through, Murakami Hana even pulled out a map several times to confirm directions.
So you can't remember the route either, huh?!
On the fifth day, they finally emerged from the forest.
Murakami Hana turned to Akira and produced a strip of black cloth.
"You can't see the rest of the way."
The blindfold meant nothing to Akira, but he had no intention of exposing that.
He calmly took it and covered his eyes, asking casually as he did,
"Aren't we heading to Amegakure? Is this really necessary?"
Hidden villages were secretive, sure—but not that secret.
Anyone with a bit of knowledge knew roughly where Amegakure was located.
Even if Akira hadn't lived here long, he knew the general direction.
Murakami Hana replied meaningfully,
"Do you want to meet Lord Hanzo or not? This route leads to him."
Though technically close to Amegakure, Hanzo's hideout wasn't inside the village itself.
Akira nodded.
Even with the blindfold on, his Byakugan still clearly saw everything.
Murakami Hana wrapped a wire around Akira's wrist and held the other end, guiding him forward.
They circled several more times before arriving at what appeared to be a mountain cave.
But instead of entering the cave, Murakami Hana opened a concealed door beside it.
Akira was speechless.
He knew Hanzo was cautious—but this was borderline paranoid.
Once inside, Murakami Hana finally removed the blindfold.
"Follow me," his voice echoed ahead.
"You haven't fully earned Lord Hanzo's trust yet. Naturally, you can't be allowed to know where this place is."
Akira nodded and followed.
Despite being hidden, the interior was massive.
Wide corridors, spacious construction.
At the end of a long passage lay a huge open area, almost like an arena, spanning three vertical levels, each lined with multiple rooms.
Rain ninjas moved about everywhere.
Many greeted Murakami Hana respectfully as they passed.
Clearly, he was well-regarded here.
As for Akira, most people only gave him a curious glance before moving on.
"If you have the strength," Murakami Hana said without turning back,
"they'll respect you too."
Akira stayed silent.
Respect?
What use did he have for that?
He only needed them to drop experience and loot.
Seeing Akira had no interest in conversation, Murakami Hana quickened his pace.
They reached the deepest room on the third level.
"Don't say anything unnecessary," Murakami Hana warned.
Akira nodded.
They entered together.
Inside stood a man clad in armor, a breathing apparatus covering his face, already waiting.
"Lord Hanzo," Murakami Hana said, dropping to one knee.
Akira followed suit, kneeling behind him.
Out of the corner of his eye, he studied the man who would one day stand at the center of the Second Shinobi World War.
But with his Byakugan still active, Akira noticed something… wrong.
The chakra inside Hanzo's body—
It didn't feel right.
It wasn't even at jōnin-level.
Not even close.
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