Matsuake lifted the wooden bucket and placed it steadily on the ground.
Tsukuyomi, on the other hand, carefully picked up the little girl inside the bucket with both hands and found a suitable spot to let her sit down.
The little girl looked to be less than three years old, small enough to hide inside the bucket.
Aside from the girl, the bucket was also stuffed with a few pieces of dried provisions.
It seemed that her family had placed her inside the bucket before disaster struck and hid it in the well.
If not for Tsukuyomi’s Byakugan, this little girl might have starved to death at the bottom of the well after some time.
But no matter what, that fate would still have been better than being discovered by the bandits.
Seeing that she was only frightened and not injured, everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
“Little one, what’s your name?” Though anxious and eager to learn about the village’s fate and whether there were any other survivors, both Matsuake and Tsukuyomi could tell that the little girl was on the verge of a mental breakdown.
After all, she had just been hiding at the bottom of the well, where the pitch-black darkness alone was enough to terrify a child.
At the same time, she could also hear the sounds of slaughter and wailing from above.
“My name is… Honoka.” The little girl trembled as she spoke her name, then stared blankly into the distance before suddenly pointing a finger.
“That’s… my father.” Following the direction of her finger, they could see a man’s corpse roughly discarded by the side of a fence.
His arm was caught between the wooden fence posts, and some of the blood from his neck had seeped into the wood.
Hearing this, Matsuake and the others fell silent.
Communication technology in this era was not advanced.
For the people of this village to issue a mission to Konohagakure, they either had to travel there in person or entrust a passing merchant caravan to deliver the mission request.
By the time Konohagakure accepted the mission and dispatched ninja, perhaps a month or more had already passed.
Those with bad luck, like this village, would meet their demise by the time the requested ninja arrived.
“It seems she doesn’t know anything,” Hashirama sighed.
“You two continue with the mission.
I’ll take care of burying the villagers.” Both Matsuake and Tsukuyomi nodded in agreement with this arrangement.
In fact, the one accompanying them on missions all this time had been Hashirama’s Wood Clone.
Hashirama’s true body was likely still in Konohagakure handling official duties.
It was precisely to test the two of them that Hashirama’s Wood Clone refrained from intervening in anything except for guiding their training during leisure time.
From the start, the task of eliminating the Missing-nin had been theirs alone.
[C-Rank Mission Issued: Hunt down the Missing-nin who have committed atrocities.
Reward: 50 points.] The mission prompt appeared, but Matsuake did not divert his attention to it at the moment.
“Tsukuyomi, I’ll leave it to you to track the traces of these Missing-nin,” Matsuake said.
He himself had also learned how to search for enemy traces at the Ninja Academy, but it was clearly not as effective as the Byakugan.
This group of Missing-nin had obviously not received systematic training.
While acting savagely, they also did not know how to erase their tracks.
Soon, the two of them locked onto a direction and hurried off.
Along a small path, under the cover of tree shadows, a group of about ten people hurriedly advanced.
Seemingly tired from the long journey, the few at the back of the group gradually slowed their pace.
One of them, a short and skinny man, simply stopped.
“Boss, why didn’t we enjoy ourselves back there?
Why did we leave in such a hurry?” His words were met with agreement from the others around him.
“Yeah, it’s been almost two months since I last had some fun.” “Finally, there was a woman who looked somewhat decent, but you just cut her down with one slash…” At this point, the Missing-nin leader at the front of the group turned around, his fierce glare making the complainers swallow their words.
“You think I didn’t want to?!” As he spoke, the Missing-nin leader also wore an expression of resentment.
“Before that village chief died, he said Konohagakure ninja would come to avenge them.
If you want to stay here and die, that’s fine, but I’m not sticking around!” Hearing this, the others exchanged glances, none daring to speak.
“Damn it, I came here because they said the Land of Fire was richer, but it’s just as poor,” the Missing-nin leader cursed.
With this topic shift, the group of Missing-nin began chattering among themselves.
“I think all the money here ends up in the nobles’ pockets.
The Land of Fire even has bounties on us, when they’re the ones who really act like robbers.” “Those damn nobles are all the same.
Back when I was in the Land of Grass, I couldn’t even afford food, yet I still had to pay taxes to support those nobles.
I just quit.” “Yeah, if they won’t let us live, then no one gets to live!” “Alright, alright, quiet down!” the Missing-nin leader said.
“We’re heading to the Land of Rivers now.
It’s not like the Land of Fire, which has a major Hidden Village like Konohagakure.” “When we get there, we’ll take over a mountain, raid a few nearby villages, and live comfortably for a while.” “But none of you slack off!
Learn the Ninjutsu I told you to practice.
Don’t hold me back!” “Got it, boss!” “Boss, let me carry your bag.
I’ve almost mastered the Clone Technique you taught me last time.
What do you think about…” A tall, thin Missing-nin with a sharp, weasel-like face walked up to the leader, trying to flatter him.
These Missing-nin had no Hidden Village to belong to and no master to teach them, so opportunities to learn Ninjutsu were few and far between.
The reason they followed this leader was twofold: first, he was stronger, and second, he was generous, actually teaching them how to extract Chakra and learn Ninjutsu.
Originally at the bottom of society, once they learned to refine Chakra and master some basic Ninjutsu, they could prey on others instead.
As he spoke, the weasel-faced Missing-nin reached out to take the bag from the leader’s back.
The Missing-nin leader, pleased by the flattery, didn’t refuse.
But just as the Missing-nin’s hand was about to touch the backpack, it suddenly froze.
“Heh…
heh…” A strange, gurgling sound came from his throat.
“Hurry up, what are you…” After a long moment without movement, the Missing-nin leader grew impatient and turned around.
Only to find the weasel-faced ninja clutching his throat in pain, unable to speak.
Visible where he held his neck was a long, thin needle, precisely lodged in his throat.
The others also noticed this terrifying scene, hastily stepping back while scanning their surroundings.
“Stay alert!
We have enemies!” The Missing-nin leader shouted immediately upon realizing the situation.
Meanwhile, the Missing-nin whose throat had been pierced by the long needle had already collapsed to the ground, lifeless.
His hand went limp, revealing a purplish-red patch on his neck.
“Be careful, the Senbon is poisoned!” someone noticed this and loudly warned.