Chương 27: City Gate Tax

Within the Land of Fire, the forehead protectors of Konoha ninja served as the ultimate guarantee of safety, allowing the caravan to travel without impediment. Only after leaving the Land of Fire and stepping onto the territory of the Land of Tea did the caravan laborers begin to sharpen their vigilance. Shuji began dispatching Shadow Clones ahead of the caravan to scout the roads. A few small-scale bandits lurking along forest side paths were eliminated by his Shadow Clones before they could even make a move.

However, as the caravan gradually approached that ancient forest known as Wild Tea Slope, the relaxed atmosphere changed to sharp vigilance.

"Just ahead is Wild Tea Slope, Captain Shuji," Makoto urged his horse closer, his voice carrying unmistakable tension.

"That Chashan Gang..."

"The camp on the slope is empty." Shuji's voice was flat, his gaze directed toward the lush green hillside in the distance. The information brought back by his Shadow Clone described a massive bandit stronghold built for hundreds, now completely deserted, free of combat traces, looking far more like an organized evacuation. Makoto's face grew even paler.

"Empty? Then... where did those people go?"

"Unknown." Shuji's answer was direct. His gaze swept over the increasingly dense tree line on both sides of the main road. Hundreds of vanished bandits with unknown whereabouts hung overhead like a dark storm cloud. His sensory perception spread silently outward like an invisible spiderweb. This pressure persisted until the caravan successfully bypassed Wild Tea Slope and stepped onto the final flat stretch leading to Dehashi Port. Makoto let out a long deep breath.

"We made it past! Thank you, Captain Shuji!" He assumed the threat had been resolved. Shuji quietly observed the harbor city gradually coming into outline ahead, Dehashi Port. Off-white city walls leaned against the mountains facing the sea, and dense forest-like ship masts filled the harbor. Yet, the closer they drew to those city gates symbolizing safety and commerce, the sharper the sense of dissonance left by the deserted camp at Wild Tea Slope became.

The caravan approached the towering city gates amidst the flow of traffic. A checkpoint was set up at the entrance, manned by several guards wearing leather armor patterned after the local Land of Tea defense garrison, holding long halberds. Their postures carried a superficial laziness, yet their eyes were sharp as hawks when scanning the cargo, gleaming with scrutiny and greed. It became the turn of Makoto's caravan. The lead guard captain possessed a lean, wiry build with a faint scar across his face.

He carelessly glanced over the tarpaulin-covered carts and official travel permits, the corners of his mouth curling into an insincere, superficial smile.

"Cloth merchant? Hiroyama Makoto?" The guard captain drawled lazily.

"According to this city's new regulations, incoming cargo must pay a 'special transit tax' equal to forty percent of its value."

"Wh... what?!" All color drained from Makoto's face instantly, his voice turning shrill.

"Forty percent?! There was never such a rule! Sir, could you have made a mistake?!" His shriek acted like a signal. Out from the shadows near the city gate rushed several dozen armed men in identical attire, swiftly encircling the six wagons along with Makoto and his group. The atmosphere plummeted, thick with unspoken menace. Anko stood beside Shuji, the muscles under her dark purple trench coat tensing up. Anger blazed in her eyes, this was blatant robbery! Yet she forced herself to hold back.

Itachi stood at the rear of the caravan, coldly analyzing the surrounding men's positioning and movement details: the placement of calluses on their spear-holding hands, faint tattoos hidden under leather armor, the residual ferocity lingering in their eyes... these subtle details differed subtly from genuine guards. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Cold sweat dripped from Makoto.

Merchant instincts overrode all else as he forced a flattering smile and bowed repeatedly.

"S... Sir, please calm down! I lost my composure! This forty percent... I have already put all my fortune in these cargos, I truly cannot pay it! Could you grant some leeway? Or allow me to sell the goods inside the city before making up the payment?" He didn't expect ninjas to clash with official Land of Tea authorities. Or rather, commissions accepted from the outside by any ninja village never included opposing a nation's administrative organs.

Especially after the Second Hokage, Tobirama Senju, established the ANBU system, tasks that appeared so unseemly would never feature on the village's public request boards. They were almost always negotiated directly between high-ranking village officials and relevant parties, then assigned directly to a suitable squad, or handled straight by ANBU. The assignments ninjas could accept at the Mission Center were all proper-looking requests like escorts or subjugations.

"Leeway?" The guard captain sneered, his eyes scanning the wagons greedily.

"No money? Simple!" He waved his broad hand.

"Leave two cartloads of goods to cover the tax! Move!"

"Yes!" The surrounding guards shouted in excited unison, charging like starved wolves toward the cargos!

"Stop." The voice wasn't loud, yet carried a freezing quality that pierced through all the noise, instantly chilling the hot air before the city gate. Shuji's figure had already appeared like a phantom, standing firmly in front of the two targeted wagons. He assumed no combat posture, his hands hanging loosely at his sides, standing there calmly like a reef embedded in the ground. Startled by this silent obstruction, the two men at the front halted mid-stride, their aggressive momentum faltering.

The scarred captain's triangular eyes narrowed dangerously, scanning Shuji up and down, lingering on the distinct Konoha symbol on his forehead protector. The flesh on his face twitched as he suppressed a surge of offended fury, deliberately raising his voice: "Konoha ninja?"

"Look closely! I am the guard captain of this city! Collecting tax according to rules is perfectly natural and leagl! What? You intend to interfere in the Land of Tea's internal affairs and strike officers executing official duties?!"

"We accepted a mission," Shuji said calmly, though his gaze was sharp, piercing straight into the scarred captain's eyes.

"The contract is to escort this caravan and its goods safely to their destination in Dehashi Port."

"Or are you saying you now intend to openly rob the property of a client belonging to Konoha Hidden Village?" The instant his final word landed, an invisible, bone-chilling aura, burst out from him. The air seemed sucked dry, and the temperature plummeted. The guards nearest to the carts turned deathly pale as if gripped by an invisible throat-choke, retreating several frantic paces, their weapons wobbling in unsteadiness.

The arrogance on the scarred captain's face vanished in an instant, replaced by a pale look of shock and uncertainty. His throat worked with difficulty, a cold chill running up his spine. This seemingly calm young ninja before him gave off a presence a hundred times more dangerous than the fiercest bear in the wilderness! He didn't doubt for a second that if he ordered another move, the boy would unleash a bloodbath without hesitation.

Anko shifted her footing silently, positioning herself to block any flanking angle from the side. Itachi remained at the rear of the caravan, his eyes locked onto several guards stationed toward the back. A suffocating silence hung over the gate passageway. Only the anxious snorts of the pack horses and Makoto's heavy breathing remained audible. A few watching bystanders exchanged glances, and one of them turned and hurried away.

The scarred captain's eyes flickered wildly, fine beads of cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. A few seconds felt as long as centuries. Ultimately, his blustering official authority was completely crushed. He forced a strained smile onto his face, his voice rasping: "Heh... heh, a misunderstanding, it's all a misunderstanding!" He waved his hand frantically.

"Fall back! Fall back! Don't disturb our distinguished guests!" As if granted a grand reprieve, the surrounding men hastily put away their weapons and scattered backward. Makoto was about to lead his men straight through when Shuji stopped him once more.

"Pay them according to the old regulations. Whatever the standard amount is, pay that." Shuji's voice remained flat as he withdrew the suffocating pressure. Makoto snapped back to reality like waking from a dream, nervously trembling as he counted out several banknotes from his inner pouch, offering them with both hands. The captain snatched them without looking, stuffing them into his shirt while plastering on an obsequious smile: "Let them through! Hurry, let them through!"

Overflowing with endless gratitude toward Shuji, Makoto nearly dropped to his knees. Wiping his sweat, he directed the workers toward the docks with lingering fear. Shuji did not leave the gate area immediately. He led Anko and Itachi, quietly turning into a relatively secluded back alley. The alley was damp, heavy with the briny smell of the sea.

"Captain, back there..." Although intimidating the guards felt satisfying, Anko knitted her brows, her lowered voice filled with confusion.

"Doing that... won't the village think it's inappropriate?" She worried Shuji might be held accountable afterward. Shuji leaned against the wall, light from the alley entrance casting half-shadows across his face. Instead of answering Anko directly, he turned his gaze to Itachi, who had been silently observing all along: "Itachi, what did you see?" Itachi raised his eyes.

"Those guards mostly had tattoos they couldn't fully conceal, patterns common among bandits in the Chashan region. Rather than official guards, they resemble bandits far more closely." Anko was frozen with surprise. As she carefully remembered what happened, those details suddenly became very clear in her mind. Shuji smiled faintly.

"Precisely. Newly recruited bandits who spent their lives being hunted by ninjas haven't managed to adjust their mindset yet."