Year 38 of Konoha.
The Second Shinobi World War had already dragged on for over a year.
On the battlefield in the Land of Rain, Konoha, Sunagakure, and Amegakure were locked in a meat-grinder of a free-for-all that had already consumed several cohorts of Ninja Academy students forced into early graduation.
By contrast, the battlefield in the Land of Rivers had entered a standoff phase.
Although both Konoha and Sunagakure continually funneled in reinforcements, leading to constant skirmishes with daily casualties on both sides, both forces exercised relative restraint.
No large-scale legion-level shinobi war had broken out yet.
With the Shinano River in the western Land of Rivers acting as a natural boundary, the two nations were locked in a tense stalemate.
Looking down at the entire Shinano River defense line, vast networks of sentry patrols covered the outer perimeters of both camps.
Konoha, in particular, relied on the Shinano River and its surrounding mountains and forests to construct a three-tiered defense across hundreds of miles of riverbanks, strictly preventing Sunagakure elite units from penetrating deep into their rear.
The Umino Patrol Squad was merely one utterly unremarkable cannon fodder sentry unit on the outer perimeter.
If asked to block a breakthrough by Sunagakure elites, a cannon fodder squad like his would fail completely, crumbling at first contact.
But when it came to relaying warning signals, they were extremely effective.
Useful as they were, their mortality risk depended entirely on whether the Six Paths’ Pure Land was serving up boxed lunches that day.
They could only pray that Sunagakure’s elites wouldn’t pick their sector for a breakthrough.
Better them than me: the downstream sector of the Tetsubishi Squad—who had just been wiped out—was prime terrain for a breakthrough.
Meanwhile, the upstream sector of the Aoba Squad had clear lines of sight, but as a dead-last patrol squad, a nighttime raid could easily bypass them without making a sound.
This sentry patrol mission might look dangerous—and in truth wasn’t safe at all, with life and death left to fate—yet for a cannon fodder squad like theirs, it was already a golden gig.
It was a Shinobi World War; where *wasn’t* it dangerous to carry out a mission?
Relatively speaking, sentry patrol was a cushion job.
If Sasuke hadn’t scored some local specialties from the Land of Wind earlier and had a friendly chat with the Nara logistics chief strategist, he never would have gotten such a good assignment.
As long as they survived ten days without incident in their sector, it counted as completing a C-rank mission.
This was miles better than those suicidal assault and penetration missions.
Cannon fodder assigned to assault missions had to choke down Ration Pills every day, only for their hard-earned mission merits to be skimmed by officers until they barely equaled a C-rank mission.
Even if it somehow ended up counting as a B-rank mission after the skims, one could only pray they were strong enough to survive and actually enjoy the credit.
Risking life and limb on an empty stomach just to barely land a C-rank mission was a raw deal.
This sentry patrol assignment might take longer, but it was stable and relatively safe.
At the very least, they didn’t have to starve on Ration Pills every day while marching to their deaths.
Even if their sector was unlucky enough to be targeted by Sunagakure elites, at least they’d die on a full stomach.
“Captain, is it really okay for us to stew soup and roast fish like this every day?
If the mobile patrol catches us—” Sasuke Umino cut him off directly.
“So what if they catch us?
At worst, we cook a few extra portions and build some camaraderie.
If something happens to our sector, won’t they come reinforce us faster for the sake of free meals in the future?” Sasuke paid zero mind to battlefield cooking regulations, continuing to fiddle with the pot of fish soup.
The heat was just right.
Sasuke scooped up a spoonful of milky-white broth glistening with tiny droplets of oil along the rim of the pot, blew on it half-heartedly, and took a sip.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as the savory richness rushed straight to his brain.
Unable to resist, he took another sip and closed his eyes to savor it.
Absolutely heavenly!
The Ninja World truly was a land blessed by Natural Energy; even the ingredients were upgraded versions, tasting delightfully rich on the tongue.
He scooped out a full bowl and shoved it straight into his subordinate’s hands.
“Ryo, if you don’t want to regret it later and still hope to become a Jonin, take your senior’s advice: eat fewer Ration Pills.” Sasuke looked at his young Genin subordinate—whose eyes were brimming with pure, naive simplicity—and spoke with deep earnestness.
“Rather than letting you waste these cute little Ration Pills, it’s far better to let me trade them for an Explosive Tag.” Inuzuka Ryo hesitated, his eyes lingering on the milky broth in his hands.
*Gulp.* Familiar flavor memories surged back like unforgettable visions, making Ryo swallow hard.
It seemed while his words spouted discipline, his mouth was honest as could be.
Battlefield regulations couldn’t hold a candle to the bowl of soup in his hands.
And if one bowl wasn’t enough, then two would do.
Sasuke scooped another bowl and placed it directly in front of Ryo’s Ninja Dog, Akutamaru.
Faced with such a delicacy, Akutamaru wagged his tail happily and barked twice.
Ryo naturally wanted it too—it wasn’t their first time, after all.
Still, faced with military regulations, setting aside his clan’s honor gave him a slight pang of hesitation.
But seeing his buddy Akutamaru tuck in so joyfully, the bowl in his hands immediately conquered his resolve, and Ryo gave up resisting.
“Thank you, Captain!” Eager as Ryo was to dig in, he maintained basic clan etiquette, politely expressing his thanks before carefully blowing on the steam and taking a modest sip.
“Mmm~” Ryo’s eyes lit up instantly.
The savory blast on his tongue shot straight to his crown.
It was such a divine delicacy that his eyes nearly popped out of his sockets.
In an instant, clan etiquette went out the window, and he gulped down several huge mouthfuls.
It was simply delicious—the Captain’s cooking got better every day!
In the face of great food, who gave a damn about battlefield rules?
Whoever wanted to eat Ration Pills could go ahead!
Sasuke watched the teachable Ryo and nodded with a smile.
Shinobi were meant to break rules.
Even Jiraiya, the “Number One Master in the Ninja World,” taught that shinobi shouldn’t play by the rules.
Jiraiya would go on to teach a whole bunch of Kage-level powerhouses, so his words couldn’t possibly be wrong, right?
Nearby, the two foodies, Tekudo and Koshino, seeing even stubborn Ryo start digging in, immediately ladled full bowls for themselves and wolfed them down.
Little foodie Tekudo was drinking from his bowl while eyeing the fire below the pot, clearly wondering when the beggar’s fish roasting in the embers would be done.
A bunch of little gluttons.
If Sasuke hadn’t been smart with money, these kids would have eaten him into poverty.
After this meal, he had saved several Ration Pills again.
Over a ten-day patrol cycle, he could accumulate about forty Ration Pills, which meant one extra Explosive Tag.
Here on the frontline of the Land of Rivers, that extra tag wasn’t just an item—it was a lifeline.
Explosive Tags were great items.
Shinobi were generally glass cannons with high attack and low defense; even a Kage-level powerhouse would likely get wrecked if they took a direct hit.
Ration Pills weren’t as precious as Explosive Tags, but they were emergency rations carried on missions and counted as military supplies.
Eating one replaced two meals, restored Chakra, and was convenient to carry.
A few Ration Pills paired with a little water could sustain a month-long wilderness mission.
Truly an indispensable item for field operations.
Even without trading on the black market, forty-some Ration Pills discounted at twenty to thirty percent could still get him a friendly chat with Jonin Mitokado of the logistics department to exchange for an Explosive Tag.
You could never go wrong stockpiling extra Explosive Tags.
The war was far from over.
Even if he didn’t use the Explosive Tags right now, as a strategic resource even scarcer than Ration Pills, their price would definitely surge later.
Right now, a single Explosive Tag cost twice as much as in peacetime, proving what true strategic supplies were.
Having the three kids eat fewer Ration Pills wasn’t just to save up for Explosive Tags—it was genuinely for their own good, a lesson learned through his own blood and tears.
As wartime emergency food, Ration Pills could replace meals and restore Chakra, possessing countless benefits.
Yet they weren’t nourishing like real food, tasted terrible, and while eating too many could rapidly boost a ninja’s strength, it would gradually drain their long-term potential.
A total double-edged sword.
Choosing between the future and the present seemed obvious on the surface.
But in reality, there often was no choice.
No matter how great the future was, if you died in the present, what future was left?
For bottom-tier cannon-fodder shinobi, eating one or two Ration Pills a day not only solved mission logistics with ease, but in the short term, it rapidly squeezed out potential to boost strength, allowing them to survive the brutal expendable Genin phase.
After that, surviving a few life-and-death battles made becoming a Chunin no difficult task.
Battle-hardened Chunin were the core backbone of Konoha.
Though still on the level of cannon fodder, they were no longer low-tier expendables; as high-grade cannon fodder, village leadership wouldn’t discard them so easily.
If one could survive the high-risk Ninja War and enter a period of peace, a Konoha Chunin was guaranteed to belong to the high-income bracket.
Matchmakers beating down the door might be an exaggeration, but finding an attractive wife would be effortless.
If he married a civilian girl, not only would there be no bride price, but he might even get a sizable dowry from his in-laws—a true winner in life.
The good news: he had transmigrated into Sasuke Umino, a core pillar of Konoha—a high-grade cannon-fodder Chunin who had already drained his potential.
The bad news: he was currently on the Land of Rivers front of the Second Shinobi World War, racking his brains on how to lay low and survive until the war ended.