Arriving once again at that izakaya, Saitama saw a group already packed and ready to go.
There were nearly ten accompanying servants, the Man with a Thick Mustache, and finally, the client himself—Kaiho Tora.
"Saitama! Then shall we depart?" Kaiho Tora had already climbed into his carriage, waving toward Saitama.
"Alright!" Nodding, Saitama jumped up and sat cross-legged on the rooftop of the carriage.
"I'm lucky this carriage roof is flat—not like those peaked ones from old period dramas."
As he sat there, several servants followed behind while the Man with a Thick Mustache held the reins at the front of the carriage.
After completing formalities at Konoha's gate, the group set off in grand fashion. At this pace, Saitama estimated it would take about half a month before reaching the capital city.
With no choice but to go along with the servants for now, Saitama sat atop the carriage idly practicing chakra micro-control techniques.
They left the village around noon heading eastward, traveling most of the afternoon until stopping right before sunset.
"Sir, shall we camp here for tonight?" The Man with a Thick Mustache leaned forward trying to help Kaiho Tora down from the carriage, only to have his hand smacked away.
"Tell them to light a fire, cook something up, and put up the tents. There are some blankets in my carriage we can use. What a damn weather."
Stepping onto the ground, Kaiho Tora stroked the horse pulling the carriage while giving orders.
"Yes sir! I'll get right on it!" Accustomed to Kaiho Tora's habits, the man with the thick mustache nodded obediently without protest.
Then, the man turned towards those servants dressed in dark clothes.
"Saitama, why don't you come down and rest a bit?" As soon as the man left, Kaiho Tora called upwards.
"I'm going to patrol around."
Saitama stood, lightly brushing off the bottom of his pants while glancing around.
They were already deep in the forest, quite far from Konoha Village. Truth be told, Saitama's estimation had been slightly off. He originally thought their speed would slow significantly because of the following servants, yet actually, everyone showed exceptional physical condition common in the shinobi world. The carriage hadn't deliberately slowed its pace, yet all the servants kept running easily alongside it.
Pausing briefly on a few servants, Saitama stepped forward, leaping into the surroundings. He needed to confirm the surrounding area.
"Whoosh!" Darting silently between trees, Saitama carefully checked every direction around the campsite.
"Here, Sir, have a seat." Following Kaiho Tora's instructions, the Man with a Thick Mustache somehow quickly brought out a chair and placed it behind Kaiho Tora.
"Hmm." Nodding slightly, Kaiho Tora paid no special attention, scanning the surrounding woods.
"Bring me something to drink. After such a long trip, I'm feeling thirsty." Although he'd napped during the ride, he wasn't particularly tired.
"Yes sir!" The Man with a Thick Mustache disappeared momentarily before returning with a wine jar in hand.
"Sir, this is the [Konoha sake] we brought along when leaving."
"Mm, excellent."
Kaiho Tora was slightly surprised, accepting the jar of wine, tearing off the seal, and bending down close to the mouth of the jar to take a deep whiff.
"Even the sake from Konoha? It actually tastes better than the wine from the Capital City. I'll bring more back next time." Kaiho Tora took a big sip, his eyes narrowing in pleasure.
Just returning from patrol, Saitama spotted Kaiho Tora sitting there holding a wine jar and drinking heartily. He furrowed his brow.
"Is sake really that important to you?" Saitama hadn't misremembered—he had been drinking like that even before they set out, though not completely drunk.
Though Kaiho Tora didn't seem like someone who would let alcohol interfere with important duties, in Saitama's view, those unable to control their own desires would struggle to achieve great things—or become truly powerful.
It wasn't his place to interfere, so Saitama simply stepped aside, watching others scurry about setting up camp and lighting fires to cook meals.
...
"Saitama, come over and eat something!" Kaiho Tora called from beside the fire pile, holding a leg of some unidentified animal in one hand.
"No thanks, you guys just eat." Saitama pulled out some dry rations he had prepared—some hardtack biscuits suitable for long storage.
This was essential food for ninjas heading out on long-term missions away from the village. While on duty, you couldn't trust anything outside your own supplies—nobody could be sure whether someone else's food contained poison.
"All right then. We'll eat it ourselves." Raising the piece of meat slightly, Kaiho Tora stopped calling him over. He understood some of the ninja rules.
Though he really wanted to eat that juicy-looking meat, Saitama still turned his gaze back to the biscuit in his hand, taking another bite slowly.
After dinner, four tents were erected in the open area—one belonged to the man with a thick mustache, while the other three were for his attendants. As for Saitama, he had requested to rest on top of the carriage since Kaiho Tora also slept inside at night.
There was plenty of space inside the carriage—more than enough room for Kaiho Tora to sleep comfortably. The bed inside was soft and roomy enough.
Sitting atop the carriage, Saitama gazed up at the starry sky.
"This place feels peaceful tonight. The sky's full of stars." Saitama whispered, listening to the snoring from inside the carriage, all the while staying alert.
Since this mission involved only himself, he had no choice but to remain vigilant constantly. During the afternoon, he had stayed half-rested yet alert specifically to conserve energy for nighttime.
At night, though, they'd all be asleep.
Saitama drew his sword, pointed it toward the sky, and slowly lay down on the roof of the carriage.
"Huah!" The blade sliced through the air with a crisp sound.
Calmly placing the sword beside him, Saitama put his arms behind his head, lips pressed into a slight smile.
He rather liked those quiet nights—being the only one awake made him feel like the whole world belonged entirely to him.
"Deng!" Saitama caught even the faintest footsteps. Instantly, his hand flew to his sword and his body snapped upright, fixing his gaze in the direction the sound came from.
"I apologize for greeting you this way." Two masked figures appeared atop a distant tree branch. The speaker wore a "Shura" mask.
Without speaking, Saitama lightly stepped down onto the ground below. He had sensed no hostility from these two individuals.
"Who are you?"
Saitama looked at the two men.
"We've met before, and my comrade suffered a defeat at your hands," said the leading ninja with a Shura mask. "Remember now?"
"Root?" Saitama spoke up at the right moment, recalling the Root ninja who had trembled before him previously.
"What do you want this time?" His voice carried clear suspicion. Given Danzo's notoriously poor attitude toward the Uchiha clan, it didn't make sense for him to keep showing Saitama such unusual kindness.
"Same as last time—we're asking you to join us. Your talent is evident to all. We hope you'll consider it carefully," the Shura said in a plain, unchanging voice, like a machine.
"I'm with the Uchiha. Why should I join some random squad?" Saitama gave a sarcastic smile.
"Because Lord Danzo needs your talent!" The Shura's voice stiffened slightly, as if emphasizing something.
"Hmph. What if I refuse to join?" Saitama felt their aura shift—no longer friendly, but growing heavier.
"Lord Danzo said that bringing Saitama into our ranks would be ideal, but if he refuses cooperation, then we can take just his eyes back with us." Bloodshot eyes peered out from the holes in the Shura's mask.
"How amusing!" Electricity began crackling around him. Saitama leapt sideways into the forest, not wanting to disturb the people nearby.
"After him!" The Shura ordered. The masked 'Oni' behind him nodded silently.
"Saitama Uchiha, are you really going to refuse?" Standing not far from Saitama, the Shura radiated an increasingly hostile aura, offering one final warning.
"You're trying to gouge out my eyes. You expect me to stand there and let you?" Saitama shot back. Without hesitation, he launched the first strike!
With a loud *'Peng!'*, he kicked the Shura straight in the face. Amidst flashing lightning, he swung his blade toward the Oni.
"Hmph! How foolish!" Despite being kicked, the Shura acted as though nothing had happened.
"Huh?" Saitama was somewhat surprised; he definitely connected with that kick, and even a Jonin wouldn't shrug that off easily.
*Zzzz!*
A buzzing sound filled the air as countless dark shadows surrounded the battlefield.
Nighttime already limited visibility, and with these tiny insects flying around, Saitama grew serious. [Sharingan] silently activated.
"So, this is what Lord Danzo desires?" The Shura murmured. He'd seen many Three-Tomoe Sharingans before—a Twin Tomoe held no fear for him.
Arms extended, palms forward, he unleashed swarms of insects toward Saitama.
Now using his Sharingan, Saitama's sight transcended the darkness. Every movement—both enemy and insect—became crystal clear.
*Hiss!*
*Crackle!*
[Chidori Current] surged through both hands before transferring into the blade.
"Tch!" The Oni lunged forward first, throwing a punch at Saitama. Earlier, he'd been slashed across the chest by Saitama's sword, leaving a shallow wound—but the Chidori Current coursing through it left numbness spreading through his muscles.
Although angry, Oni hadn't lost his composure and continued working in tandem with Shura.
A swarm of insects hovered behind Oni as his fist shot toward Saitama in an instant.
"Tschank!" The sword struck the arm, producing a metallic sound. Saitama's blade had been blocked, causing no harm to Oni.
Looking closely, Oni's arm was dark brown, resembling rock. The earlier attack had only slightly cut into it before getting stuck, inflicting no real damage.
"Wengweng!" Before he could think further, the insect swarm came rushing at him.
[Chidori Current] surged over his entire body, then radiated outward from his position like a shockwave.
"Pop! Pop! Pop!"
The crushed insects rained down like falling rain, quickly piling up around his feet like snow.
"Boom!" Inattentive for a moment, Saitama took a double-fisted punch straight to the face.
Those solid fists felt like stone, landing squarely on his face.
"Pukh!" Blood burst out as he bit his lip.
"Ptth!" Saitama leaped backward, dodging Oni's follow-up attack. He spat out a mouthful of blood, his eyes turning cold.
"Hmph!" Once again, Shura stepped behind Oni, staring intently at Saitama.
They always operated as a team—one drawing enemy attention upfront while the other lurked behind for the perfect strike.
Saitama held his blade across his chest, the blood trickling from his lips ignored as he grew more alert.
"That Oni seems to have mastered a Ninjutsu similar to Earth Pike Technique; his body is extremely tough, even more difficult to deal with than that Suna ninja he faced earlier. And the other must be an insect-controller from the Aburame clan."
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