Kawahara Junji’s Mission

The relocation point had been prearranged.

Once they arrived, Aoba resumed night watch duty.

The other squad's captain huddled with Kawahara Junji, whispering discussions in low, tense voices, while other shinobi kept a vigilant perimeter.

Meanwhile, Ishiki Kujo treated the wounded.

Two of them.

One was a medical ninja himself — ironically, the most severely injured.

Examining the man's back — a vicious blade cut seared with burn marks — Ishiki reaffirmed a truth:

He had been right.

The medic's place was not on the front lines.

He hadn't clawed through brutal exams to become a combat spearhead.

For Genin and Chūnin-level medics, healing was basic: stabilize injuries on the battlefield, prevent immediate death.

True restoration — fast, flawless recovery — only began with the Mystical Palm Technique, something only Jōnin and above could learn.

And Ishiki didn't even possess the scrolls for that technique yet.

Even if he could mimic it, exposing such talent would bring disaster.

He knew Konoha's darker undercurrents.

The Third Hokage was cautious.

But Shimura Danzō?

That old snake distrusted genius — hated it.

Maybe it was jealousy.

Maybe it was because the entire Shimura clan, apart from Danzō himself, was painfully mediocre.

Regardless — Ishiki had no desire to catch Danzō's eye.

He stitched and treated the wounded with cold precision.

Then climbed into a tree to resume watch.

Notebook in hand.

He wasn't reading sealing techniques.

Tonight, his focus was on Heavenly Transfer Technique.

Compared to sealing arts, mastering Heavenly Transfer was more urgent — especially if he intended to deploy Highway Star at full efficiency.

It wasn't even particularly hard for him.

Given a few chances to practice, Ishiki estimated he could master it within ten to fifteen days.

Ever since realizing Highway Star could harvest nutrients to strengthen him, Ishiki had decided:

No changing Stands for a while.

The opportunity was too rare.

Too precious.

Thus, Ishiki remained half-attuned to Highway Star's distant presence — monitoring its position.

If it wandered too far, he would command it back.

As for whether Highway Star accidentally targeted Konoha shinobi...

Ishiki didn't really care.

In truth, his loyalty to Konoha was paper-thin.

He was a foreigner — a soul reborn into another's body.

The memories of the original Ishiki Kujo didn't stir much in him.

His true attachments were few:

Rin Ka, Might Guy, Chika.

Those who had shared genuine connections with him.

If they vanished, Konoha would be nothing but a fading backdrop.

He would leave.

Seek some quiet corner of the world.

Become a simple salaryman.

The world was vast.

Disasters would come — but they would be the protagonists' problem, not his.

He had Highway Star.

And eventually...

He would draw greater powers.

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap.

Or even... Gold Experience Requiem.

Then let the world tear itself apart.

He would survive.

He was not a hero.

He was a survivor.

Maybe, Ishiki mused, he was the same type as Orochimaru.

As long as he maintained a façade of loyalty, he could remain a "good person" in Konoha's eyes.

If exposed — he would simply disappear.

Cold?

Maybe.

But necessary.

That night, no new nutrient transmission came.

Highway Star remained stationed in a deserted stretch of land.

By dawn, the squad moved again.

They approached their marked destination — but the closer they got, the denser the presence of enemy shinobi.

Ishiki realized immediately:

There was no way the spy would succeed.

Without power on par with Shisui Uchiha, it was impossible to break through.

Maybe the spy was already dead.

Maybe captured.

It didn't matter anymore.

A battlefield was forming.

The slaughter began.

For three straight days, the wilderness turned into hell.

Konoha and Kumogakure tore at each other — blood for blood, life for life.

Until —

Raikage Fourth and Orochimaru themselves appeared.

The fighting froze.

The titans clashed.

And every lesser ninja scattered like ants before a hurricane.

Ishiki witnessed the true cruelty of the ninja world.

The squad they had rescued?

Of the four, only one survived.

The others — swallowed by the endless carnage.

Ishiki survived — barely.

Thanks to Highway Star, and its steady trickle of stolen nutrients.

It healed his wounds, refueled his stamina, strengthened his body.

Yet even so, when they finally retreated from the battlefield, Ishiki's face was pale.

Physical energy could be restored.

Mental fatigue could not.

In the distance, atop the shattered wastelands, towered a monstrous figure:

Manda, the Giant Serpent.

Orochimaru's summon.

But even Manda couldn't halt the Fourth Raikage's charge.

The mountain itself exploded under their battle, reduced to dust and broken stone.

That was Kage-level combat.

Ishiki stared into the distance —

Not with fear.

But with yearning.

He wanted that power.

Kawahara Junji had not escaped unscathed either — chakra nearly depleted, wounds covering his body.

Aoba helped him stagger onward.

Raimu, meanwhile, lay under Ishiki's skilled hands.

A deep, gaping wound nearly down to the bone.

Ishiki worked calmly — blood slicking his hands — using medical ninjutsu to stop the bleeding and stitching the muscle layers closed with precise chakra-threading techniques.

His movements were so deft that even the battle-hardened Kawahara, no fan of Ishiki, had to grudgingly admit:

The kid was good.

But no matter how skilled —

Kawahara didn't trust him.

Not after seeing Ishiki's behavior on the battlefield:

Always staying at the back.

Prioritizing his own safety.

Choosing survival first.

In Kawahara's eyes — selfishness.

And he had recorded it all.

Every detail.

Every observation.

Sealed into a scroll.

Once they returned to base, that scroll would be delivered — straight to the Third Hokage.

It was Kawahara Junji's hidden mission from the very start:

Observe Kujo Ishiki.