The man's voice sounded slightly aged. As he spoke, Morino Eaton's gaze also focused sharply on Qingyu.
"Yes," Qingyu nodded, instantly becoming more cautious. He knew the true trial was about to begin.
"Follow me."
The masked Anbu offered no unnecessary words, simply turning and walking out of the "little black room." Qingyu followed behind in silence. After about three minutes of walking, they arrived at a different, spacious room. Inside were two cold iron tables that looked eerily like those found in a morgue.
"Welcome to the Torture Force Sensory Team."
As the Anbu spoke, he raised his right hand. Qingyu noticed wrinkles and age spots on the exposed skin. The man gripped his mask and pulled it off, revealing a weathered, aged face.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am the Captain of the Sensory Team. My name is Yamanaka Yuta. Whether in the Yamanaka clan or here in the Torture Force, I am your senior. Of course... seniority is one thing, rank is another. You may call me Mr. Yuta."
Yuta spoke without a smile, but his tone lacked the harshness of his appearance. There was a touch of approachability, though his long tenure in a high position gave him a natural, imposing authority.
"Mr. Yuta!" Qingyu greeted immediately, recognizing his direct superior.
Qingyu sized him up. The man looked to be over 50 years old. His hair and eyebrows were white, and his face was so gaunt that the skin seemed stretched tight over his bones, giving him a skull-like appearance.
"You must be curious why I brought you here," Yuta said.
"Not really," Qingyu shook his head.
"Oh?" Yuta blinked, clearly taken aback. This wasn't the response he expected, and it piqued his interest. "Why not?"
"I accept any mission the department assigns me," Qingyu replied simply.
"Excellent!" Yuta's eyes suddenly brightened.
To him, the youth before him seemed plain and unpretentious—not overly clever, perhaps even a bit dull. But that was exactly what the Torture Force needed! Accept the task, execute it with rigor, and ask no questions. You don't need to know why you are doing it; that was the fundamental quality of a subordinate in this department. After all, even the lowest-ranking member here held highly classified secrets.
"Now, I will tell you your future work schedule. You will work with me in this room. Your job will be to read the memories of the newly deceased!"
Yuta paused, looking deeply at Qingyu. "By right... this isn't a job for a newcomer. Reading the memories of a corpse is much more difficult than a living person. But Captain Eaton thinks highly of you. I hope you don't disappoint him. I've worked here for nearly 30 years—I was here before Eaton—and I've never seen him favor someone like this. Do you understand what I mean?"
Yuta's gaze was burning, searching Qingyu's face for a reaction.
"I understand," Qingyu nodded. His expression remained unchanged, though he secretly felt a wave of relief.
Good... dealing with corpses for now.
He wouldn't have to act as much. For other sensory ninjas, probing a living mind was far easier than a dead one. But Qingyu was different. He used the Mind-Reading System, not the Yamanaka secret arts. Even with a corpse, he could read memories perfectly and receive rewards. Dead bodies were much easier to handle than living subjects who might provide mental resistance or feedback.
"Qingyu, aren't you curious why Captain Eaton threw you here?" Yuta kept staring, but could read nothing from the boy's face. He was puzzled: was this kid stoic or just dense?
"Not curious," Qingyu shook his head again.
He wasn't suppressing his curiosity; he genuinely didn't care. As long as he could read memories, the specific job didn't matter. Different assignments only meant a different speed of growth. Qingyu didn't want speed; he wanted stability. That was why he'd rather wait in a boring dorm than practice ninjutsu—steady steps, one at a time. Even if he didn't move forward, he would never take a wrong step.
"What an interesting lad," Yuta's skull-like face stretched into a smile—though it wasn't a particularly pretty one.
"I'll tell you anyway. Captain Eaton believes war is coming. Wartime is different from peacetime. There aren't many chances for live captures. Sometimes capturing someone alive costs too high a price. That's where specialized sensory ninjas like us come in. We must extract as much intel as possible from the dead."
"I see," Qingyu nodded. It made sense.
"So, here's the question..." Yuta's eyes changed again as he fixed them on Qingyu. "Do you think war will break out within three years?"
"I don't know."
Qingyu shook his head without hesitation. Even though he knew about the future and the Third Shinobi World War, that information was "ahead of its time." Whatever he said—right or wrong—would represent his personal judgment.
Qingyu's goal was simple: hide in the Torture Force and read memories. Everything else, even a world war, had nothing to do with him.
[End of Chapter 16]