The clients were a few wealthy merchants—otherwise known as the despised capitalists.
Yagura quickly made the connection in his mind.
There was nothing unusual about working for capitalists. In this era, only the wealthy could afford to hire shinobi.
Ordinary citizens mostly posted low-tier D-rank requests—finding lost pets, delivering letters, helping with farm work. Their daily struggles rarely involved enemies on a shinobi's level, and their finances could only cover D-rank mission fees.
The Land of Waves was a prime example.
Tazuna, the bridge builder, had scraped together just enough to commission a C-rank mission.
A reward of thirty thousand to one hundred thousand ryo, with no shinobi expected as opponents.
By sheer luck, he had drawn an SSR—tricking Team 7 into taking the job.
Like going to a hospital and landing an intern, only for that intern to turn out to be a legendary figure.
Meanwhile, Gato, the wealthy merchant, had hired Zabuza Momochi—a clearly marked elite jōnin—for at least thirty million ryo.
Logically speaking, comparing combat power and financial resources,
Gato had spent at least thirty million ryo to secure an elite jōnin (Zabuza), a chūnin-level fighter (Haku), two additional chūnin (the generic Kirigakure rogue-nin duo), and countless samurai.
With such a team, killing a man who could only afford chūnin or genin-level bodyguards should have been effortless.
Yagura mapped the Land of Waves scenario onto his current situation.
His employer = Gato, a bunch of filthy rich capitalists.
Himself = Zabuza and company, shinobi hired by the capitalists.
Enemy Craftsmen Ninja Squad = Kakashi's Team 7, the opposing shinobi hired for the job.
"Yare yare, looks like I'm on the villain's side this time."
Yagura clasped his hands over his head and let himself fall backward onto the bed.
"I hope the other side isn't an SSR ready to wipe me out."
Of course, that wasn't going to happen.
Yagura chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.
Not everyone was as lucky as Tazuna.
You couldn't just pull an SSR like the Seventh Hokage + Uchiha + New Three Sannin + Sixth Hokage in a single random draw.
And all without getting fragments.
If that were the case, his ship might as well be renamed the Titanic!
...
BOOM!!! CRASH!!! RUMBLE—
As if colliding with a massive reef, the ship suddenly lurched violently!
Slamming his mission scroll onto the cabinet, Yagura immediately sat up, his sharp violet eyes narrowing in alertness.
Had he been exposed the moment he entered this country? That old man, the Third Mizukage, wouldn't have sold him out, would he?
The ship's intercom crackled with the panicked voice of the captain: "Who are you?! What do you want?!"
"Shut up!"
After a scuffle, silence briefly settled over the broadcast.
Then, the sound of something heavy slamming onto metal echoed, followed by a new voice picking up the microphone.
"Listen up, everyone on board! This ship is now under our control!"
Thud, thud, thud—
A series of footsteps stomped across the steel deck, loud enough to seem just outside his cabin.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!!!
Heavy pounding on his cabin door!
"Inside! Get out!"
"You hear me?! Everyone out, now!!"
"You have one minute to assemble on deck!"
In the commandeered captain's cabin, a rough voice snickered with a tone all men understood.
"For those of you in the company of women, I'm giving you time to put your clothes on. Yeah, you, passengers in cabins 17, 18, and 19."
Yagura's cabin wasn't one of those. No woman lay beside him.
Check. Safe.
With dark humor, he scratched his head.
"Yare yare, what kind of rotten luck is this? Just trying to travel, and I get caught in a ship hijacking."
This ship didn't have a certain Detective Conan onboard, did it?
[ Yagura: Isobu, can you check if Mercury's in retrograde? Any solutions?
Isobu: We tailed beasts don't dabble in mysticism. ]
That said…
Being taken hostage was a rare experience for a shinobi.
Yagura cast a transformation jutsu, altering his appearance to avoid recognition.
The Chūnin Exams had drawn a lot of attention.
Checking himself in the mirror, Yagura felt satisfied with his disguise.
The same light brown hair + violet eyes, now with a scar-like purple marking under his left eye.
[ Yagura: Isobu, from now on, call me Kagura Kujaku~
Isobu: … (Should I be worried about his mental state?)]
Slipping into a disguise borrowed from his unknown future grandson, he shouldered his backpack and stepped outside to avoid having his belongings searched later.
By the time he emerged, most of the ship's passengers had already gathered on the deck, encircled by their captors—'pirates' who had bound their hands and feet.
Yagura obediently approached one of the men, only to spot a forehead protector on the pirate's head.
A hexagonal gear symbol.
Craftsmen Village.
Not pirates—shinobi?
Yagura blinked.
Had Craftsmen Village fallen so low that their ninja were resorting to hijacking passenger ships?
Was sabotaging their own economy and tourism really the way to go?
Seeing a child among the passengers, unaccompanied by any adults, a young Craftsmen ninja hesitated before looking at his superior.
"What about this kid?"
A man with a small mustache scowled at him. "Handle it however you need to."
Good—no sensors in this squad.
The transformation jutsu he had learned from Sasori was solid. If even Konoha's gatekeepers couldn't see through it, then these lower-tier ninja had no chance.
Yagura obediently let the young Craftsmen ninja bind him before being led into the crowd.
His backpack, along with the other passengers' belongings, was dumped in the confiscated goods pile.
Yagura sat quietly, observing the Craftsmen ninja.
So far, they showed no interest in the passengers' possessions. If they weren't after money…
Then what were they after?
"Move it! Move it!"
"These girls aren't bad-looking! You guys sure know how to have fun!"
"Hey, sweetheart, was it good?"
"How was the guy?"
A lecherous exchange echoed from the corridors before three disheveled pairs of men and women were shoved onto the deck.
THUD!
A fat man was kicked to the ground, rolling across the deck.
Yagura, positioned at the back, sighed.
Too far away—his view was blocked.
Ah, so these were the infamous passengers of cabins 17, 18, and 19.
They must've been a party.
And here he thought car sex was wild—these guys went for boat sex.
Pioneers.
"Don't kill me! Don't kill me! I have money! My father has money! I can pay whatever you want!"
A scrawny young man clung to a Craftsmen ninja's pant leg, sobbing.
A boot slammed into his face, sending him flying five meters away.
The ninja sneered. "Of course, we know you have money."
He pointed at two others. "You, and you."
Then, at a man trying to shrink into the crowd. "And you! Stop hiding! Get over here!"
The four men were separated from the rest.
The Craftsmen ninja surrounded them—clearly, they were the targets of this operation.
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Pls Drop some Power Stones
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