Now that he had news from the village, his condition had recovered by about eighty percent, allowing him to continue performing missions for another two or three years.
"If you ever feel tired, just apply to the village. We'll get you out of here safely and back to the village as soon as possible."
Torifū's words filled the man with even more motivation: "As long as I'm in Kumogakure, all their information will be transparent."
It was getting late, and he couldn't be away from Kumogakure for too long, so it was time to say goodbye. The man hugged Torifū and Naori separately. The three exchanged words of encouragement, and then he turned and disappeared into the vast, dense forest.
The two had originally planned to set off immediately and return to the village under the cover of night, but due to the already complex terrain and the darkness, they couldn't discern their direction. So, they could only rest there for the night and depart early the next day. Torifū set up a small tent, which would make their outdoor camping more comfortable, preventing them from having to sleep directly on the ground.
"Listening to what that man said earlier, he must have been here for three or four years, working diligently every day, fearing exposure. It's truly difficult." Torifū agreed: "They usually don't have families, and it's possible they'll be alone their entire lives. You could say they've dedicated their whole lives to the village."
In fact, they could completely betray the village and continue their disguise. Perhaps their lives would be even better than serving the village. But no one chose to do so; this might be their sense of conviction. Although separated from the village by thousands of miles, their hearts remained with it.
"If war truly might break out, we must prioritize getting him back to the village safely." Naori nodded heavily: "Absolutely! But I still hope no war breaks out." The word 'war' sounded light when spoken, a mere movement of the lips. But true war was forged in blood, and Naori didn't want to see villagers bleed. So, if war really broke out, only Kumogakure's people would bleed!
Early the next morning, a thin layer of dew condensed outside the tent. The air in the forest was incredibly fresh. Torifū and Naori woke up almost simultaneously; the tent was small, and they had slept pressed together all night.
Torifū was the first to pull open the tent flap. A rush of damp air, mixed with the fresh scent of earth, greeted him. It was then that Torifū faintly heard sounds of an argument, seemingly coming from ahead. Curiosity compelled him to move forward quietly, wanting to see who was arguing so early in the forest.
He quickly determined the direction, and after stealthily pushing aside a bush branch, Torifū saw a small boy, about five or six years old, surrounded by Kumogakure ninja. The boy had his head down, clutching a broken piece of an unidentified plant in his hand. Among the ninja surrounding him, the leader openly disparaged him, occasionally shoving him. It didn't look particularly friendly; they seemed to be bullying him or something similar.
"You little runt, I finally caught you!" The leading ninja grew more agitated as he spoke, "If our speed wasn't faster than yours, you probably would have gotten away!"
"What's that in your hand! Let me see!" The leading ninja reached out to snatch the herb from the child's hand, but the boy seemed ready to fight to the end. Not only did he refuse to hand it over, but he also pulled the leading ninja's hand away.
"It's our stuff. What right do you have to take it?" He stared intently at the leader, showing no fear, neither subservient nor arrogant. But the ninja immediately lost face upon hearing this, his face flushing crimson.
"You little brat! You wanna die, huh? Get down on your knees and apologize right now, and I might consider only taking one of your arms." The other ninja also started to jeer, pressuring the child to kneel and apologize.
Torifū found this scene incredibly pathetic. This group of ninja truly had no bottom line. What kind of ninja demeanor was that? They acted like a band of bandits, coercing a child only five or six years old. The oldest among them was nearly thirty, yet they could still do such shameless things. It seemed that the ninja of Kumogakure were merely scum.
However, the more he looked at the child, the more familiar he seemed, as if Torifū had seen him somewhere before. As he pondered, a figure in his mind merged with the child before him.
"Oh! He's that little rogue! How is he here?"
Suddenly, it all clicked into place. This child was the thief who had snatched Naori's wallet the other day! Had he disappeared for two days just to come to the mountains of Kumogakure to gather herbs? That ninja didn't know, but Torifū did: the herb in the child's hand was a relatively rare one, primarily used to treat excessive inhalation of miasma. This medicine was rare even in large pharmacies. He didn't know if the child was digging it up to sell for money or for treatment. However, it was clear that these ninja were bothering the child not for money, but simply to be disgusting.
"I suspect you stole important flowers cultivated by our Kumogakure! Stop resisting and come back with us for investigation!" The leading ninja spoke with righteous indignation, almost making Torifū burst out laughing. To casually accuse someone of stealing important flowers when you don't even know what plant it is—that's certainly something.
"You're going too far! It's not an important flower! It's an herb! I'm using it to save someone!" The little boy was furious at such absurd statements from a group of ninja. This greatly surprised Torifū. Normally, a six-year-old boy facing such an oppressive situation would surely cry loudly. But he actually wanted to resist; he had quite some backbone.
"Oh, this thing is an herb? Then we definitely can't give it to you. You're just a tiny brat, and you want to save people? You'll be lucky if you don't accidentally kill someone." The leader snatched the herb from the boy's hand and then slapped his face with it, saying with a smiling face. "You should thank me. I'm doing this to prevent you from becoming a murderer, hahahaha..."
The little boy trembled with rage at being repeatedly insulted, but he was helpless. The disparity in strength was too great. This gap couldn't be filled by anger; he could only passively endure their insults and mockery, hoping they would leave quickly. Perhaps he could still find another herb before the dew disappeared, so his clan members could feel better this month. Thinking this, the little boy became resolute, unmoved by their insults. The ninja leader, finding it uninteresting, shoved him a few times. Seeing that the boy still didn't react, he suddenly raised his hand and slapped the boy hard across the face!
[T/N: Sugar Mommy/Daddy Needed @ https://ko-fi.com/claychampion]