My Techniques are a bit off

"Hey, kid, stop running!"

A chubby man wearing an apron and a chef's hat chased a dirty-faced boy down the street, brandishing a kitchen knife.

"Get lost!"

The boy, holding a drumstick, shouted through mouthfuls of food as he ravenously devoured it. His greasy hands made passersby recoil in disgust.

"Watch out!"

The boy ran blindly and nearly collided with a horse, but he was yanked back by a firm grip.

Startled and still chewing on his drumstick, the boy looked up to see a man—or rather, someone painted with face paint and carrying strange gear, with a ninja forehead protector tied neatly across his brow.

Relieved he didn't end up trampled by the horse, the boy offered the drumstick in his oily hands and mumbled, "Thank you, kind ninja—"

"Haah... haah..."

The chef, now doubled over, rested his hands on his knees as he gasped for breath. Though he stopped chasing the boy, he glared daggers at him, waiting for the ninja to discipline the young troublemaker before stepping in himself.

The painted man stared at the boy for a few seconds, then tossed him onto the ground. "Don't block the road," he said curtly.

"Yes, sir, yes, sir!"

The boy nodded quickly, his gaze darting between the ninja and the chef who looked ready to pounce. His body tensed, prepared to run at any moment.

"Wait a minute."

A sturdy-looking boy, slightly shorter than him, jumped down from the nearby carriage. He held out a crisp hundred-ryō bill and said, "I have a question for you. If you answer it, this money is yours."

The boy hesitated, scanning the younger ninja. Then, with a forced smile, he agreed, "Anything you want to know, ninja."

"I've noticed there aren't many homeless people or stray kids around here. Why is that?"

The ninja's voice was soft and polite, his smile unassuming.

This guy looks pretty naive, thought the boy.

He wasn't swayed by the friendly demeanor. Having survived in war zones, he trusted no one. Still, mindful of the ninja's status, he resisted the urge to snatch the money outright. "Ah, that's easy," he replied, a mocking smile creeping across his face.

"Someone came through, offering free food and shelter, plus payment and training opportunities. Everyone followed them like idiots."

What fools. There's no such thing as a free lunch.

Before the war, his family had been wealthy, and he'd heard enough about human experiments and cult-like sacrifices to know better than to fall for such traps.

"Oh?"

The ninja's tone rose slightly, and he placed the bill into the boy's greasy hand. "Thank you," he said graciously.

Holding the money, the boy felt a flicker of emotion. Respect was a feeling he hadn't experienced in ages. After a moment's hesitation, he added, "I know where they're gathering people. For a thousand ryō, I'll take you there."

"Alright," the boy replied with a polite smile. "Take me there after we settle in at the inn. I'll pay you then."

"Deal."

The boy nodded eagerly. He ran back toward the chef, handing over the hundred ryō with a cheeky grin. "Here's for the drumstick. I'll spend the rest at your place later."

The chef glanced toward the ninja carriage and reluctantly took the money, silently letting the boy go as he ran after the departing carriage.

"Why are you so concerned about the missing homeless people?" Temari asked casually, trying to start a conversation.

"Sounds like something a certain someone's underlings would do," Link replied, glancing at the boy chasing behind them. "I'm going to check it out."

There were plenty of groups and individuals who could pull off such schemes. But if it turned out to be Orochimaru's subordinates, that would mean a nearby base. It would be a chance to exact some revenge.

If he had the freedom to roam like Jiraiya, he'd dismantle every one of Orochimaru's snake dens and carry out assassinations in the Otogakure just for fun.

Orochimaru wouldn't get away unscathed after messing with him.

Though Orochimaru might still be stronger overall, Link was confident in his ability to escape if needed. He could even summon Fugaku Uchiha to fight. With Fugaku's three-tomoe Sharingan, paired with Link's shadow clones and brute-force tactics, they could handle Orochimaru in a direct fight—provided Edo Tensei didn't come into play.

Turning to his team, Link said, "We're about to enter a conflict zone. You and the client can rest here while I investigate. We'll head out tomorrow."

That evening, they reached an inn where they could rest. The daimyo's son dismounted, weary and disheveled after days on the road. Despite the discomfort, he maintained a cheerful demeanor, exchanging pleasantries with his protectors before retreating to his room.

Link left his clones to guard the inn and followed the boy to the edge of town.

The boy led him to a run-down house. Whispering, he said, "This is the place. A friend of mine was taken here before being sent off. I saw people lurking around yesterday."

"Got it. Wait here," Link replied.

The boy hesitated but nodded. Link entered the house as his shadows spread out, searching for signs of danger.

Moments later, a shadow dragged a man to his knees.

He has chakra. A ninja from the Otogakure, Link thought, sensing the man's earlier struggle against his shadows.

Without hesitation, Link cast Demonic Illusion: Hell Viewing Technique.

The man screamed in terror, failing to break the genjutsu. Under its influence, his mental defenses crumbled, and he confessed bit by bit:

He was a Otogakure ninja tasked with recruiting experimental subjects. The nearest base was about 20 kilometers away. Three comrades were still out recruiting.

Link knocked the man unconscious and invited the boy inside, both as a precaution and to keep him under watch.

His next move: eliminate the remaining Otogakure ninjas in town and investigate Orochimaru's base.

~~~

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