Chapter 164: The Poison of Doubt [Part 2]
Day 7.
The port stirred with the roar of waves crashing against the rotting wooden docks. The air was thick with the scent of freshly caught fish, mingling with the salt that clung to clothing and skin.
The marketplace was already buzzing with life. Vendors meticulously arranged their goods, their voices blending into a chaotic symphony of bargaining and laughter.
Among them, a seemingly ordinary man sat behind a modest fruit stall.
He wore a simple tunic, his face partially concealed by a hood, his posture relaxed—as if he belonged there, as if nothing about him was remarkable.
It was Borei.
Or rather, it was him in disguise.
His eyes, hidden beneath the hood's shadow, carefully observed every detail.
- - -
A burly man, his face weathered by wind and sun, walked through the crowd carrying a net full of still-flopping fish.
In his other hand, he held the small arm of a boy following him with quick, eager steps.
"Otosan (お父さん, Dad), today we'll sell lots of fish, right?"
The father turned to him, offering a weary yet affectionate smile.
"Yes, Aki. Then we'll be able to buy rice for the week."
The boy nodded enthusiastically.
But at that moment, the market's atmosphere shifted.
The chatter faded.
People stepped aside.
Vendors lowered their heads.
Isuke Watanabe had arrived, accompanied by a guard of armed men.
No one dared meet his gaze.
Then, one of Watanabe's guards brushed past Borei's fruit stall, accidentally knocking over a stack of apples.
They tumbled to the ground.
Aki saw everything.
With the innocence only a child could possess, he ran to the man, gently tugging at his jacket.
"Sir, you dropped the fruit!"
Aki's father paled.
"Aki, come back here—now!"
But the boy shook his head.
"If you drop something, you should pick it up! Otosan always says so!"
The guard turned slowly.
Then, without a word, he struck Aki's father.
A punch to the stomach.
The man collapsed to his knees, his net of fish slipping from his grasp.
Aki held his breath, too shocked to understand.
"Teach your son some manners," the man sneered, brushing off his robe as if merely being touched by them had soiled him.
Aki's father, still gasping for breath, knelt down, bowing his head.
"Forgive me. My son meant no disrespect..."
No one intervened.
The merchants remained silent.
The crowd looked away.
But someone was watching.
From behind his fruit stall, Borei just observed.
He watched power crush the weak.
He watched how the people reacted to fear.
He watched a child see injustice for the first time.
And yet, he didn't interfere.
Wars are not won with impulsive actions.
Isuke Watanabe gave a bored wave of his hand, not even sparing the fisherman a glance.
"Let's go."
His men walked away, leaving Aki's father still kneeling, short of breath, his head bowed in submission.
Aki knelt beside him, his small hands trembling as he tried to grasp his father's.
At that moment, Borei calmly stood, picking up one of the fallen apples and placing it gently in front of the boy.
"Thank you."
Then, without a word, he pulled out a small, decorated scroll.
A good luck talisman.
He set it next to the apple, right before Aki's wide, astonished eyes.
The boy stared at him in wonder, then smiled like nothing happened.
Borei met his gaze and smiled back.
Then, without haste, he turned and vanished into the crowd.
Aki clutched the talisman to his chest, not yet understanding its true meaning.
- - -
The dimly lit room felt like a separate world, isolated from the village's frenzy.
Noriaki did not drink.
He stared at the amber liquid in his cup, deep in thought.
Across from him, a Kumo ninja sat in silence, awaiting his words.
Then, with his usual calm precision, Noriaki spoke.
"Something is wrong."
The ninja raised his gaze.
"Sir?"
Noriaki set the cup down slowly.
"Shōgeki. His sudden disappearance, his return. And now, the villagers beginning to resist."
He paused, his eyes scanning his subordinate carefully.
"None of this is a coincidence."
The man remained silent for a moment, then nodded.
"You believe someone else is behind this?"
A small smile played at Noriaki's lips.
"I don't believe it."
His gaze lifted slightly, catching the light in his eyes.
"I'm sure of it."
The air grew heavier.
The Kumo ninja did not dare break the silence, then, with slow deliberation, Noriaki spoke again.
"Someone else is pulling the strings."
And then, he said the name.
"Konoha."
The ninja's eyes widened slightly.
"The Leaf...?"
Noriaki nodded.
"They have no reason to remain uninvolved. Konoha has always used influence and destabilization when they couldn't win through force. The only thing I wonder is... how did they discover us so soon?"
He ran his fingers along the rim of his cup, thinking.
If the mission had been compromised from the start, we would have seen clearer signs of infiltration. But this is a silent war.
"So… Konoha is using Shōgeki to push the people into rebellion?"
"Maybe. Or maybe they're just waiting for the right moment to reveal themselves."
He shook his head slightly.
"But I won't wait."
With a fluid motion, Noriaki pulled a small scroll from his robe.
He slid it across the table, stopping it at the ninja's hands.
"Go to the port. Ensure this message reaches Kumo."
- - -
At the port, the Kumo ninja moved with confidence, making his way through the crowd with measured steps.
But someone was watching, perched atop a rooftop, leaning against a chimney blackened with age, Hokujin tracked him with his gaze.
Beneath his mask, a smile stretched.
Where do you think you're going?
- - -
In a secondary square, a merchant was speaking with a group of villagers.
He wore simple clothing— a dusty brown tunic, his hands stained with soil. He looked like one of them, yet his eyes observed everything with precision.
"Strange, isn't it?" the merchant mused, idly passing an apple from one hand to the other.
The villagers and merchants exchanged uneasy glances.
The tension in the air was tangible.
"They say the Kumo ninja are here to protect us… but I wonder…"
He paused, taking a slow, deliberate bite of the apple. The gesture was measured, calculated.
"...who will protect us from them?"
A whisper spread through the crowd.
No one dared speak openly, but the seed of doubt had already been planted.
Aki's father, still shaken by the humiliation he had suffered that morning, clenched his fists.
"Protection…" he muttered, his voice tinged with disgust and frustration.
The merchant tilted his head slightly, a barely perceptible smile forming.
"And besides, who can truly say what they really want?"
His words lingered in the air.
And then—it happened.
"THERE!" someone shouted.
The merchant looked up, but it was already too late.
A Kumo ninja dropped from the sky, his blade gleaming under the sun.
The steel sank deep into the merchant's chest.
For a moment, time froze.
The villagers stood motionless.
Then—terror turned to screams.
Aki's father stared, wide-eyed, unable to believe what he had just witnessed.
The merchant staggered, his mouth slightly open in silent shock.
Then, he dropped to his knees.
The blade was yanked free with a sickening sound, and blood splattered onto the dusty ground of the square.
An elderly woman covered her mouth with trembling hands.
"They… they killed one of us…" someone whispered.
But it was no longer a whisper.
It was a roar rising in the crowd.
People stirred, shifted.
Fear became rage.
- - -
A few blocks away, perched on a wooden beam overlooking the square, two figures observed the scene.
Hidden within the shadows, Kagerō and Borei watched as the chaos unfolded.
Kagerō shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips.
"When do you even come up with these strategies?"
Borei, his face concealed beneath the shadow of his mask, did not immediately respond.
He watched as the disorder spread like an unstoppable wildfire.
[ Sorry for the Delay, and thanks Everyone for your support, specially:
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