NOVEL NEXT Chapter 40: Chapter 40: The True Purpose
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Beneath the Hokage Building, in the Konoha ANBU dungeon.
Inside a clean and sanitary cell, Rinjin lay leisurely on the not-so-soft bed, dressed in bear-patterned pajamas, one leg crossed over the other.
The room was a small, square space of less than ten square meters, with no windows. A door made of special material had a small sliding window.
The window wasn't big, just wide enough for a plate to pass through.
The room was sparsely furnished, with only an iron bed and an iron table.
On the table, a dim oil lamp illuminated the small area. The remaining space was cluttered with a few empty plates and several comic-style books.
Rinjin leaned against the bed, holding a book in one hand and a skewer of takoyaki in the other. By the flickering lamplight, he read leisurely.
"Creak!"
The sound of metal scraping broke the silence.
The window on the door slid open.
A familiar dog-headed mask appeared.
"Number 233, it's mealtime!" came the familiar voice.
Hearing the commotion, Rinjin skillfully tossed aside his book and sprang up from the bed with the agility of a fish leaping out of water.
"Yo! Dog Bro! What brings you here?" he greeted enthusiastically, walking to the small window and craning his neck to look outside.
Outside, the ANBU operative known as Tsuchiguma (Earth Dog) took two cautious steps back. Beneath his mask, his lips twitched in exasperation as he silently cursed.
What do you mean, "What brings me here?"
I'm here to bring you your damn meal, you brat!
Even in the ANBU dungeon, Rinjin refused to behave. He even had the audacity to place meal orders.
Look at this life you're living—is this what a prisoner's life should be? Meals served to you, clothes provided, even toilet paper delivered when needed!
Other prisoners get by on a single military ration pill a day. But you? Breakfast is seaweed rice balls, lunch is a medley of skewers, and dinner is barbecue!
Five hundred ryō isn't even enough to cover one of your meals!
The more Tsuchiguma thought about it, the angrier he got. His gaze swept through the window into the cell, landing on the oil-stained books scattered on the table, and his heart bled.
Damn it! Take better care of my precious collection!
If it weren't for your begging, I wouldn't have lent you my *Tales of Genji* series!
And seriously, you're still a kid—what are you doing reading adult novels?
Unaware of the internal tirade, Rinjin looked at Tsuchiguma with excitement.
"Dog Bro, what's for dinner tonight? Is it the charcoal-grilled meat from Nara Hill?"
At these words, Tsuchiguma's face under the mask turned strange. He glanced at the plate in his hand, filled with some blackened, unidentifiable chunks, and replied in a muffled voice.
"No, your sister made you... pfft... a special... love-filled dinner. Heh heh heh heh."
With that, he shoved the plate through the window, slammed it shut, and turned to leave.
Listening to the string of mischievous laughter fading away outside, Rinjin's face darkened.
What made it worse was that the contents of the plate were even darker than his expression.
What the hell is this?!
At that moment, Rinjin felt as if he'd been transported back to the Jashin Cult's dungeon, holding a large bottle of poison for the first time. The hesitation and dread were all too familiar.
With a sigh, Rinjin picked up the plate and stuffed the unidentifiable chunks into his mouth.
Sticking out his tongue and grimacing, he staggered back to the bed, picked up the adult novel he'd been reading, and reclined.
However, his ears occasionally twitched slightly.
Time passed, and a full day and night went by.
Above Rinjin, in the Hokage Building, the once-bustling halls were now eerily empty.
The village's confidential documents had been relocated to the Intelligence Division's underground storage. Apart from essential guards, the building was no longer the hub of activity it once was.
As dusk fell, Rinjin remained lying on the bed with his eyes closed, silently counting his heartbeat and muttering softly.
"It's been two days and one night since I was locked in the ANBU dungeon.
During this time, ANBU patrols have been relentless, 24/7. The intervals between patrols are completely irregular.
Sometimes, someone passes by the door every thirty seconds; other times, it's five minutes. There's no discernible pattern.
Tobirama Senju really knew his stuff. It seems the ANBU patrol schedule is randomized daily.
No wonder Naruto managed to sneak into the Hokage Building and steal the Scroll of Seals—it must have been because Hiruzen Sarutobi allowed it.
Then again, maybe that Scroll of Seals was a fake! Perhaps it only contained the *Multiple Shadow Clone Jutsu*.
After all, the techniques listed there aren't exactly friendly for someone Naruto's age.
Things like *Five Elements Unseal*, *Dead Demon Consuming Seal*, and *Eight Gates* aren't exactly wholesome techniques.
But if the Scroll of Seals was fake, then it all makes sense.
After all, even if the *Multiple Shadow Clone Jutsu* was stolen by Mizuki, it wouldn't be a huge problem.
If you can't recover the forbidden technique, then just recover the person who knows it!"
As Rinjin rambled on, a thousand miles away in the Land of the Moon, Tobirama Senju sat in a temporary office, carefully reviewing a scroll while an ANBU knelt before him.
The scroll contained intelligence sent from the village—intelligence about Rinjin.
To call it intelligence was generous; it was more like a chronicle of the ANBU's suffering.
Despite being locked up, Rinjin wasn't disruptive, but his punctuality for meals was terrifying. His stomach growled like clockwork, not a second off.
Whenever the ANBU were late delivering his meals, the brat would start pounding on the door, demanding food.
And when Rinjin started yelling, the other prisoners in nearby cells would join in.
The bizarre part? These prisoners had learned to chant a menu from Rinjin.
Steam-cooked lamb, steamed bear paws, steamed deer tails, roast duck, roast chicken, roast goose, braised salted duck, soy sauce chicken, cured meat, jellied pork belly, smoked sausage, assorted cold dishes, smoked chicken, white tripe, steamed eight-treasure pig, glutinous rice-stuffed duck...
All dishes that Tobirama had never even heard of. And the worst part? Rinjin never repeated a single dish.
Even through the scroll, Tobirama could sense Rinjin's absurdity.
Suppressing the urge to vent, Tobirama looked at the ANBU before him.
"Send more people back to monitor Rinjin Sōhō around the clock. I have a feeling that kid is up to something."
"Yes!" The ANBU nodded firmly.
Time crept by, and in the blink of an eye, it went from 6 PM to 2 AM.
In the quiet cell, the candle on the table had burned down to its base, leaving only a faint glow the size of a soybean, illuminating the space beneath the candlestick.
In the dim light, Rinjin suddenly opened his eyes, a sly smile creeping onto his lips.
"The Scroll of Seals, here I come!"