l_legolas

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The protagonist is an accidental time traveler - he didn't wait, didn't guess, only dreamed, but ended up in history, which he didn't pay much attention to. He was just lucky with his lineage.
Ryo is a new member of the Nara clan, from the Uzumaki lineage on his father's side, and it so happened that he was born not at the beginning of the known plot, but more than three decades and two world wars later. Now he has to figure out how to get out of this situation however he can.
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Red Nara

Stepping out onto the street, I made my way through the camp, nodding to familiar shinobi and kunoichi who hurried about their business or simply relaxed near their sleeping spots. Some were drinking, some smoking; a small group played cards while others heated up simple dinners on portable stoves.

Some cleaned their weapons or patched up torn and tattered clothes—not everyone could afford multiple spare sets. In general, it was the usual life of soldiers at war, adjusted for local reality. However, the relaxed scene was disrupted for some by eyes darting in search of danger, nervous hands twitching towards weapons at loud noises, and tense muscles ready to spring into action at the first signs of an enemy.

Shaking my head, I headed towards my partners' tents, near which a small campfire had already been lit in a pit, surrounded by familiar silhouettes of people and dogs.

"How did the sortie go?" I casually asked Tsume and Rotaro, settling down on the ground next to Inuzuka.

"We ran the route, didn't encounter any enemies, and returned," Tsume shrugged, taking a deep drag and starting to cough.

Glancing at the smoke from their rolled cigarettes, I leaned towards her, inhaling to determine the contents. But as soon as I caught the familiar sweet, slightly spicy scent, all apathy and indifference were washed away by irritation and anger.

"Tsume, where did you get this stuff?" I asked calmly, deciding first to find out where they got the narcotics before starting to twist necks and give people a whack on the head.

"Huh? A familiar jonin treated us and said it's very relaxing," Ishi replied, "and by the way, he was right—it's really effective."

"Yeah, it helps," his neighbor chimed in.

Taking a deep breath and channeling my anger towards these juvenile idiots, I swiftly reached out and snatched the rolled cigarettes from the trio, promptly extinguishing them with a small splash of water.

Ignoring their dissatisfaction, I gave them a stern look.

"Do you know WHAT exactly you were smoking just now?"

"Some herb from Kusa," Tsume answered, frowning.

"More precisely, it's a narcotic herb from Kusagakure, which, besides relaxing the body, also significantly slows down the reaction time of the smoker for at least another day and a half," I said, suppressing idiots with weak chakra, "a jonin's body will cleanse itself overnight practically without consequences, but you're risking seriously diminishing your chances of survival the next day if you encounter an enemy. So, quickly get out all your supplies and hand them over to me!"

The smokers, slightly pale and realizing they had almost dug their own graves with their own hands, silently rummaged in their pockets and pulled out their rolled cigarettes. Confiscating them and tucking them into my medical kit—skillfully, this herb could be turned into a good pain-relieving medicine—I sighed.

"I understand you're tired and worn out, but I won't let you ruin yourselves with drugs! After all, even alcohol isn't as harmful as this junk. I've seen enough of these in the hospital back in my day. Find other ways to relax or smoke normal tobacco, it's definitely less harmful."

After my irritated tirade, everyone remained silent for a while, but eventually nodded in agreement.

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Chapter 87