Chương 34: Undercurrents

Hiroyama Makoto stood by the gangway of the cargo ship that was about to set sail. His face was plastered with a broad smile, though fine beads of sweat glinted faintly at his temples under the sunlight. He gripped Shuji's hand tightly.

"Jonin Shuji! I cannot thank you enough! If it weren't for you this time..." His voice was loud, yet his eyes darted nervously toward the shadows of the nearby dock warehouse, where several men wearing guard leather armor stood with arms crossed.

"The cargo is finally on board. Finally!" He wiped his sweat, his voice abruptly dropping low.

"Though, are you sure you won't travel with the ship? Looking at those men, I'm afraid they bear a grudge against you... especially after what happened at the town gate..." Shuji smoothly withdrew his hand, his face wearing its usual calm.

"Its ok, Mr. Hiroyama." His gaze swept past the guards; meeting his eyes, they instinctively looked away.

"Ah! Hearing you say that puts my mind at ease!" The anxiety on Hiroyama Makoto's face was instantly replaced by a flattering smile, as if his earlier worry were merely an illusion. Rubbing his hands, he said, "I've paid for five days in full at Haifeng Pavilion! You can stay comfortably! I wanted to treat you all properly in gratitude, but the ship waits for no man... Please, you must accept this token of appreciation!" Like a magic trick, he pulled out a bulging coin pouch and thrust it forward.

"Just doing our duty, no need, Mr. Hiroyama." Shuji raised his hand, gently pushing the money back. Hiroyama Makoto smoothly withdrew it, full of gratitude: "If I have commissions in the future, I will definitely seek out the ninja lords of Konoha again. Well then, I shall take my leave." He climbed the gangway, looking back three times with every step.

It wasn't until the freighter sounded a deep horn and slowly drifted away from its berth, merging into the busy shipping lane outside the port, that he completely disappeared beside the gunwale.... Almost as Hiroyama Makoto's cargo ship sailed out of view, a heavy atmosphere hung over the Wasabi estate in the heart of Dehashi Port. Inside the dimly lit washitsu, a tense air lingered that even high-grade incense could not fully mask.

Sitting formally on the tatami were seven or eight impeccably dressed men of varying ages. Aside from the Wagasuke Family, they were the prominent figures who controlled Dehashi Port's fishery guild, dockworkers' union, and several of the largest merchant firms. At this moment, every gaze was locked onto Wasabi Jirocho at the head of the room. Jirocho wore a formal dark gray kimono, his spine straight as a pine. Gone was his usual mild-mannered demeanor; only a solemn resolve remained on his gaunt face.

On the low table before him lay a thick dossier and several faint yet clearly recognizable portrait rubbings.

"Gentlemen," Jirocho's voice was not loud, yet it pierced clearly through the silence of the room.

"I have invited you here today solely to expose a lie that threatens the survival of Dehashi Port!" He picked up a rubbing, a face full of coarse flesh with a scar near the corner of the eye.

"This man is Kumasuke, a fierce bandit of the Chashan Gang from Wild Tea Slope. Three months ago, his brigands raided three merchant caravans coming from Nansu Post, leaving seventeen dead or wounded!" He picked up another.

"And this one..." Rubbing after rubbing was displayed, each fierce face appearing particularly menacing under the dim light. Jirocho's voice carried suppressed grief and indignation: "These men, along with nearly three hundred desperate thugs under them, were never wiped out as the Wagasuke Family claimed! They are right under our noses! Occupying the city gates, the docks, and the streets! In the name of a 'special transit tax,' they are sucking the blood and gnawing the bones of traveling merchants.

They are destroying this city!" Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. A collective gasp and a subtle commotion rippled through the room. The old chairman of the fishery guild couldn't help speaking up: "Jirocho, this is no small matter! Empty words carry no proof..."

"The evidence is right here!" Jirocho slammed the thick dossier onto the table.

"From tokens left behind at the Wild Tea Slope camp, to the confessions of coerced laborers who barely escaped with their lives, to matching tattoo patterns they failed to completely erase!" He took a deep breath, his gaze sweeping over the astonished and uncertain faces, and heightened his tone: "More importantly, the collection and verification of this evidence was completed with the assistance of Jonin Shuji's Konoha escort squad!"

"Konoha?!" The word was like a stone dropped into a deep pond. Eyes that had still held doubts immediately turned complex.

"Indeed," Jirocho said gravely, noting the shift in everyone's eyes.

"I have already dispatched men with the evidence and letter toward the capital to present to the Daimyo! I hope that upon your return, you will prepare your men and weapons so that we may completely purge these wolves from Dehashi Port!" Silence descended upon the room once more. Several key figures exchanged subtle, unspoken looks. Fire ignited in some eyes as they nodded forcefully; others knit their brows, fingers tapping unconsciously against their knees.

Finally, the old chairman of the fishery guild spoke slowly: "Since there is testimony from Konoha shinobi and these... physical proofs," he pointed at the dossier, "we naturally believe you, and we shall return to make preparations." He paused, his tone shifting slightly: "However, the Wagasuke Family is currently in charge, and those men were appointed by them. Without receiving an official order from the Daimyo, it would be unwise to act rashly.

But the moment the Daimyo's order arrives, we will immediately clean out these parasites."

"Precisely."

"Better to wait for the Daimyo's command." The others chimed in one after another, their stances clear and unified: support Wasabi Jirocho in filing a complaint and believe the evidence is real, but until the Daimyo's official command arrives, not a single one of their men would move. Jirocho understood completely; in fact, he had anticipated it. These old foxes wanted to use his hands to remove the tumor cultivated by the Wagasuke Family, yet refused to take even half a risk before the dust settled.

Showing no disappointment, he nodded with solemn gravity: "You speak wisely, gentlemen. Without proper standing, words carry no weight; without clear weight, nothing can be accomplished. I understand. We shall quietly await the Daimyo's judgment! I only ask that you make full preparations so that when the time comes, we may strike a decisive blow!"

"Naturally."

"Rest assured, Master Wasabi." The men stood up one by one, leaving with formal courtesy. Carrying grim expressions and their own calculated thoughts, they hurriedly departed the Wasabi estate. The washitsu fell empty once more, leaving behind only the swirling incense.... Almost at the exact moment those prominent figures crossed the gates of the Wasabi estate, several covert pieces of information scattered like trapped insects in a spiderweb, transmitted urgently through various channels.

At the edge of Dehashi Port, inside a dark and dingy room facing an abandoned shipyard, light was mostly blocked out by thick tarps, and the air reeked of cheap tobacco. Jubei sat cross-legged in the deepest shadow, his ubiquitous samurai sword laid across his knees. Before him knelt a lean man, hurriedly reporting in a low voice.

"... Wasabi Jirocho gathered people... produced a lot of papers and portraits... said it was ironclad evidence... and said Konoha ninjas helped gather it... He intends to report to the Daimyo... The receipt will arrive tomorrow... and he said they'll move as soon as the receipt gets here..." Jubei's closed eyes snapped open. The scabbard across his knees seemed to emit an extremely subtle hum. So that's how it is. Wasabi Jirocho sought out the Konoha ninjas hoping for their endorsement...

"Reporting to the Daimyo..." A sinister arc split the corner of Jubei's mouth, exposing white teeth.

"The old fool moves fast!" He wasn't sure how the Daimyo of the Land of Tea would react, deny the evidence through gritted teeth? Send down the senior advisor related to the Wagasuke Family to investigate? Or, seeing Konoha's apparent stance, abandon the Chashan Gang entirely? Jubei didn't know, nor did he need to know. So long as he eliminated the messenger and ensured the Daimyo never saw those documents, it wouldn't matter.

Jubei stood up suddenly, his tall figure casting a heavy shadow in the cramped space, pressing down on the kneeling subordinate until he could barely breathe.

"Where are the Konoha ninjas now?"

"They are still inside Haifeng Pavilion. We have been keeping eyes on them."

"Get out. Arrange people to keep a tight watch on the Wasabi Family."

"Understood!" As the man backed out and withdrew, Jubei issued an order into the darkness: "Have Shoshoku go kill the Wasabi Family's messenger. Genshoku, you go watch the Konoha ninjas." A man stepped out from the darkness. His sunken eye sockets were embedded with glowing green pupils, and a tattoo of a hungry wild dog was etched beneath his eyes. Wild hair tangled with bird feathers and a withered bone hairpin, his canine teeth bit down on a copper coin, and he wore a patchwork monk kasaya made of rags.

A bell tied around his wrist was carved with the word"Eat."

"Something isn't right," Genshoku said, his voice muddled from biting the coin. The samurai replied coldly, "It doesn't matter anymore. We have already invested too much."

"Besides, we already planned for dealing with Konoha ninjas from the very beginning. This is merely moving it forward."