To the Fūma clan, Yujin was neither a villain nor a hero—he was simply an outsider with ambitions and objectives.
After all, if he wanted to establish a foothold in the shinobi world, Yujin knew that relying on fewer than twenty ninja was a weak position.
Because in many cases, the influence of a group—clearly visible in its size—was more persuasive than individual strength.
In a sense, it was no different from a street brawl: ten people on one side, a hundred on the other—the larger group naturally seemed more formidable.
Yujin understood that if he wanted to appear as a legitimate ninja faction rather than a ragtag band of strays, fewer than twenty people just wouldn't cut it.
But with fifty? To an outsider, they could at least seem "polished on the outside, even if rotten inside."
So now was the perfect time for Yujin to spread his message of survival through unity, kindness paired with inclusivity, equality, and fairness—where "joining" meant becoming a founding member, and so on—essentially, a pitch for a "start-up" vision.
It was with this goal in mind that Yujin had thrown the other side off balance during their first encounter.
He wasn't trying to make a show of force, nor did he want to come off as all bark and no bite. He simply wanted to seize control of the conversation.
Sure enough, his words silenced the opposing side, and tension began to spread.
Just as the other party braced for unavoidable conflict, Yujin opened his mouth again:
"Just a little joke. You all look exhausted, so please, stay where you are. We'll set up camp a little farther away."
He waved his hand, signaling his ninjas to fall back slightly, demonstrating a willingness to coexist peacefully.
Seeing this, Fūma Gorō visibly relaxed. So, the other side wasn't the type to beat a dog while it was down, nor were they unreasonable.
Still, Yujin's retreat was only nominal—it was more symbolic than substantive.
He led his group to pitch camp just to the north of the Fūma clan—barely a hundred meters away.
For ninja, that kind of distance was anything but safe.
This was the upwind side, and soon, Yujin and his group began preparing dinner.
They were simply eating, yet the aroma visibly stirred the Fūma clan into agitation.
As Yujin made a show of assigning night watch duties, the Fūma clan leader approached, looking awkward and embarrassed.
He came alone, hands practically raised to show he meant no harm.
Yujin signaled for his men to clear a path and let the man come forward.
"Mr. Yujin… would it be possible to share some food with us?"
Fūma Gorō was young and still unaccustomed to swallowing his pride, so his voice came out low, as if stuck in his throat.
He didn't dare look Yujin in the eye, his head nearly bowed to the ground.
He didn't need anyone to tell him how excessive his request was. But his people were starving.
Such a plea was rare in the shinobi world. If you lacked supplies and wanted more, the usual method wasn't asking—it was taking.
Unfortunately, the Fūma clan no longer had that strength.
And in this world, what can't be taken by force is rarely granted by kindness.
Yujin wore a look of surprised sympathy as he responded:
"This... Clan Leader Fūma, I truly sympathize with your situation. But as you can see, we're not in much better shape ourselves. I don't even know if what little we have left will last us through the journey ahead."
Fūma Gorō lifted his head, wanting to say something, but no words came out. In the end, he just nodded silently and turned to leave, his steps heavy.
But before he had gone even two paces, Yujin suddenly called out, as if moved by conscience:
"Clan Leader Fūma—wait. I'll give you some grain and broth. It's not much, but I hope it helps, even just a little. Honestly, we're stretched thin too."
Fūma Gorō stopped abruptly and turned around, surprise and relief flooding his face.
"Really…? I mean, thank you—thank you so much, Mr. Yujin."
First refusal, then agreement—even the smallest gesture could feel priceless in contrast.
The supplies themselves weren't much, but this was Yujin's way of using tactics—of exchanging sincerity for sincerity.
He immediately sent some of his men with a small bundle of provisions to the Fūma camp, which soon erupted in joy.
Once the food had been distributed, Fūma Gorō returned once more to thank Yujin.
Yujin, taking the opportunity, invited him to stay for dinner—which Gorō naturally had no reason to refuse.
It was heartrending to watch and painful to hear. For every bite he took here, someone back in his camp could get a little more.
Yujin didn't press him for details about how the clan had fallen so low. Instead, he turned the conversation toward their future:
"Clan Leader Fūma, what are your plans from here?"
Cradling a bowl of hot soup, Gorō shook his head with a lost look in his eyes.
"I honestly don't know where our path lies."
His situation wasn't all that different from Yujin's—a new leader pushed to the front with no time to prepare. If you asked about long-term vision or strategic planning, the answer would be: practically none.
"The survival of your clan rests on your shoulders now. Every step you take must be carefully considered. One misstep could mean disaster."
Yujin didn't think Gorō looked like someone who handled pressure well—so he applied even more.
Sure enough, Gorō's expression grew more bitter.
With no clue what to do next, he tried to change the subject:
"Mr. Yujin… what about your group?"
"Us? We're just wandering ninja right now. My people come from all walks of life, but we share similar stories, which eventually drove us to band together for warmth."
His words were vague, but Gorō understood the meaning—just a gathering of the disillusioned and dispossessed.
He laughed bitterly to himself. His clan was in even worse shape than that.
"Wandering ninja, for now?"
Gorō asked, sensing something more behind Yujin's words.
Yujin nodded and elaborated:
"We rested for a while earlier. Now, we plan to head west to seek a suitable employer."
"Do you think you'll find one?"
"That depends on how hard we try."
Gorō fell silent again. This Yujin—who looked even younger than him—spoke and acted with such clarity and decisiveness. He had a clear path forward, strong leadership, and impressive control.
Suddenly, a thought began to take root in Gorō's heart.
"Our situation's no better—perhaps only slightly more optimistic than yours.
These ninja here, some hail from obscure clans, some from ancient bloodlines too secret to name. We come from different backgrounds, but we've stayed united because of the sincerity in our hearts.
That's why I offered help to you—not out of strategy, but out of shared struggle...
We've all been caught in the rain. If we can, we're willing to hold an umbrella for someone else."
Yujin's rhetoric was stirring, and his words were grounded in reality. Didn't all these diverse ninja willingly gather around him?
More importantly, Gorō's mindset at the moment was one of confusion and helplessness. Emotionally vulnerable and in need of direction, his resistance to this kind of motivational nonsense was at its lowest.
Almost involuntarily, he blurted out:
"Mr. Yujin... your group—'Ashes'—would really accept ninja regardless of their origins?"