On the way back to the camp after leaving the dense forest.
"Ren, I think—"
"Stop!" Ren immediately cut Shisui off. He took a deep breath, his brow furrowed as he looked at Shisui with a heavy, pleading expression. "Shisui, I'll keep this a secret for you, but don't contact them anymore. Believe me, it's dangerous."
At this point in time, the fledgling Akatsuki could still wander about for a few years. But once the Battle of Kannabi Bridge erupted and Obito Uchiha fell to the darkness, the script for Akatsuki's tragedy would be set in stone.
In that future event—the one that would lead to Yahiko's suicide and Nagato's descent into madness—the Akatsuki, grown strong enough to be a threat to the Three Great Nations, could have turned the tide. But Obito, to ensure Nagato's corruption, would intercept the Akatsuki reinforcements, leaving the organization a shattered mess.
Ren estimated he wouldn't live long enough to see that day, but he didn't want Shisui to risk himself for it now.
Shisui remained silent for a moment before nodding slowly.
The two boys reached the main gates of the camp.
"By the way, Ren, don't forget that the Great Elder arranged for Big Brother Shinichi to teach you the clan's Ninjutsu," Shisui reminded him. "He expects to see results. Whenever you aren't assigned a mission, you need to gather for training in the small woods behind the base at 9:00 AM every morning."
Shisui looked at the sky. "It's almost time. Come with me now to meet Shinichi-niisan."
A slight twitch developed on Ren's face. Cultivation... What a distant word. In the year since he had arrived in this world, he had spent the first three months mastering basic tree-climbing and water-walking, along with a single Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu. After that, his life had been a non-stop D-rank mission grind that nearly worked him to death.
It wasn't that he didn't want to learn other techniques; the natural talent of this body was simply... absurd. Ren had spent half a year practicing a simple D-rank Fire Style: Fire Bullet Jutsu while on missions, yet he had made almost no progress. Of course, he would never admit that this might be because his "Intelligence" stat was remarkably low.
It was only later, with the help of Heartsteel and the Sharingan, that he had mastered a whole bunch of flashy abilities. Now, being asked to undergo "proper" training...
Ren recalled those painful, fruitless days, and a "Mask of Agony" seemed to fasten itself onto his face. He stood in silence for a moment before muttering, "I understand. Let's go then."
However, at that exact moment—
A Root ninja clad in a pitch-black cloak and a bird-patterned mask flickered into existence before Ren. The eyes behind the mask stared coldly.
"Ashura. Lord Ryoma summons you. Come with me. Now!"
Shisui sighed, feeling helpless. "Well, go take care of your business first. Just don't forget to come for training!"
Ren nodded and followed the Root operative through the rain, arriving at a large command tent.
Ren pulled back the flap of the tent. Inside, he saw Ryoma Aburame, dressed in black with a purple mark on his cheek. Ryoma stood with his back turned, facing a massive map with the imposing air of a supreme commander. It looked as if he were about to issue a world-shaking strategic order.
However, as Ren drew closer, he realized the man wasn't studying the map or analyzing the war at all.
This "closet freak" was using his finger to tease a longhorn beetle sitting on the map. He was giggling to himself, his cheeks twitching and causing his sunglasses to wobble.
"Cough... Lord Ryoma."
Ren let out a dry cough. Leave it to the Aburame clan... their tastes are truly something else.
"Ngh—?!"
Ryoma's shoulders jumped. He lightning-fast grabbed the beetle and stuffed it into his pocket. He shoved his hands into his own pockets and stared intensely at the map as if nothing had happened.
"Ahem." He cleared his throat and turned around with a deadpan expression. "You've arrived."
"What were you just doing?" Ren asked flatly.
"W-what? What nonsense are you spouting? I was obviously studying strategy, pondering how to assist Lord Danzo in crushing the Sand's resistance!"
Ryoma pushed up his sunglasses with practiced ease. Of course, it would have been more convincing if the longhorn beetle wasn't currently pinched between his fingers.
"Oh... I see." Ren gave his "trash superior" a dead-eyed look. "So, why did you call for me?"
Ryoma raised an eyebrow, threw an arm over Ren's shoulder, and pushed him toward the map. His voice turned solemn.
"Your mission assignment has arrived!"
Ryoma tapped his finger on a red circle on the map of the Land of Rain. It was a rocky wasteland. It sat behind several Sand outposts, and just beyond that red circle lay the native deserts of the Land of Wind.
Ren narrowed his eyes. After the Sand's sneak attack last night, Konoha was clearly ready to retaliate.
"Intelligence from Root spies deep within the Sand reveals that in three days, a shipment of strategic supplies will be moved through here. Among them are toxins developed by Lady Chiyo."
"If we can destroy these supplies, the Sand's next large-scale offensive will be much easier to handle. Conservatively, it could save hundreds of our men."
Ryoma pointed at the red circle. "A Sand squadron consisting of thirty men will be responsible for transporting the supplies."
Ren activated his Sharingan, recording every detail on the map. He looked up and frowned. "So, that's my mission? To take out those thirty men?"
"No." Ryoma shook his head and grinned. "That is my mission. Your mission is here—"
Ryoma shifted his finger to a Sand camp nearest to the supply route.
"You. You go and intercept the reinforcements from this camp."
"The number is... three hundred."
Ren blinked. He pointed to himself. "Me? Alone?"
Ryoma nodded expressionlessly. "Fight however you want. Until I release a signal flare, even if you die there, you must hold every single one of them back."
"This shouldn't be hard for you. After all, Orochimaru said that for you, this is just—"
"A small appetizer."
Ren swallowed hard, his eyes suddenly igniting with spirit. "Fine!"
He accepted the mission without a second thought. After all, he had left the village specifically for this kind of combat!
Ryoma nodded. Then, as if remembering something, he let out a muffled chuckle and patted Ren's shoulder. "By the way... for the next two nights, remember to sleep with your gear on. Also, take this."
"Orochimaru requires you to memorize it before tonight, or the mission is canceled."
With a flick of his wrist, Ryoma tossed over a pale blue scroll embossed with a snake-like pattern.
Ren's brow furrowed. Damn you, Orochimaru. You've got some nerve! Giving me a sweet treat and then a heavy blow—are you treating me like a donkey?
Fuming, Ren caught the scroll and unfurled it.
The expression on his face froze instantly.
There, on the cover of the scroll, were several bold words:
"Orochimaru Style: Substitution Jutsu!"