Storage scrolls were handy things, but they were a relatively expensive consumable. For this kind of large-scale supply transport, wagons made a lot more sense.
For shinobi, this kind of physical labor was nothing at all.
Everyone chatted in low voices along the way. If it weren't for the stern Hizashi leading the group, the conversation would've been much more relaxed.
But aside from Hizashi's presence, most people didn't feel particularly weighed down by anything else—the overall atmosphere was fairly pleasant.
The weather was especially good along the way. Even if the winter sun didn't provide much warmth objectively, it added a subjective sense of warmth to everyone's mood.
"Tōji-kun, do you have any insight into the situation at Kannabi Bridge? Why not share your thoughts?" Jakkō started a conversation out of nowhere.
"I'm just a genin—I don't really know much about the front lines. Besides, I can't even play Go or shogi, so what kind of insight could I possibly have?" Tōji replied with a smile. "But Senior Jakkō, you're already a chūnin and you've been on the battlefield a few times—maybe you could share your views with us instead."
"Me? I'm just a shallow learner, and I don't come from any notable clan, so I don't really understand much. But I've always thought Tōji-kun seemed clever and opinionated, so I hope you don't mind my bold question." Jakkō smiled, his tone impossibly sincere and warm.
"The movements of the Iwa forces in the Land of Fire are a bit hard to predict. Even though we Konoha shinobi outnumber them several times over, the Iwa forces are using a vanguard-heavy strategy. Even those of us doing logistics behind the lines might not be entirely safe…" Despite claiming he didn't understand, Jakkō lowered his voice and laid out a full analysis for Tōji and Natchi.
"Hmm…" Tōji fell into thought.
After all, Jakkō had been the "sole survivor" of at least two squads before—he had to have some kind of insight.
Tōji only had the advantage of foreknowledge about the broad strokes of the plot—he couldn't predict every specific detail. In that regard, he was no match for the natives of this shinobi world.
"Really, Senior Jakkō!" Natchi—whether slow or just easily surprised—only reacted with surprise quite a while after Jakkō had finished. At least he remembered to keep his voice down.
"Of course, I'm just guessing! Hahaha!" Jakkō laughed and said no more. He let Natchi stare straight at him, lost in thought.
『The creepy guy actually went out of his way to warn us?』 Tōji felt a flicker of suspicion. After all, in Tōji's mind, Jakkō had long been pre-labeled as a "schemer."
The mission was B-rank, which meant that in the Third Hokage's assessment, there was a high probability of shinobi combat. Combat on the battlefield meant—they were effectively participating in the war…
If everything went smoothly, they'd earn sixteen thousand ryō on their return. But things rarely went that smoothly—especially when Tōji had a nagging feeling something would go wrong. What was that law called again…
It was Murphy's Law!
Though the clever ones would immediately think of the Pythagorean theorem.
Along the journey, the first two days were fine—far from the front lines.
On the third day, the entire transport convoy was noticeably less relaxed.
The earlier chatter about which girl was prettiest and which restaurant had the best food had died down.
Even Natchi, normally cheerful, had let his apple cheeks rest.
After all, they were all shinobi—everyone could feel the shift in mood. It spread from one to another, and soon the whole convoy was tense.
The more eerily quiet it got, the more Tōji felt a big storm was coming.
But nothing happened. They were only a few kilometers from the Konoha camp.
It wasn't even dark yet—the sun still had at least an hour before it set. Generally speaking, ambushes weren't something you'd pull in broad daylight…