At 7:50 AM, Sato Fan stood at the entrance of the third warehouse on the east side, taking a deep breath of the cool morning air.
This was his first day officially entering the workforce.
There was no roar of exploding explosive tags, no sharp whistling of Kunai slicing through the air, no piercing enemy attack alarms, and certainly no life-or-death missions that could kill you at any moment.
There was only the cool breeze of the morning carrying the scent of grass and trees, the hoarse cawing of crows in the distant woods, and the crisp, clean “click” sound as the warehouse lock was precisely opened by the key.
Ah!
Peaceful days are truly too wonderful!
He slowly pushed open the heavy warehouse door, and a scent mixed with the coldness of metal and the faint, pungent smell of anti-rust oil rushed toward him.
The light inside the warehouse was still dim, with only a few rays of morning light filtering through the narrow, high windows, barely illuminating the few rows of towering shelves in the corner.
He groped his way to the wall, found the old light switch, and pressed it with his fingertip.
With a “pop,” the fluorescent light flickered two or three times before finally shining with a pale, white light, illuminating the vast warehouse completely.
Old Tanaka Kazuhiko had not yet arrived.
Sato Fan placed his backpack gently on the desk in the corner, picked up the thick, yellowed ledger on the table, flipped to the page he had been reading yesterday, and continued to read patiently.
This ledger had long been worn at the edges from his flipping, and he had already memorized most of the item numbers, specifications, precise storage locations, and book quantities, knowing them by heart.
But what he had to do today was not as simple as just reading the ledger.
Ten minutes past eight, Old Tanaka Kazuhiko slowly pushed open the warehouse door and walked in.
Today, he was wearing a faded gray old jacket with slight pilling at the edges, and in his hand, he carried a clean, coarse cloth bag containing his lunch.
Looking up and seeing Sato Fan already sitting properly in the office, he just nodded slightly, his eyes calm, which counted as a greeting.
“You came quite early.” Old Tanaka casually placed the cloth bag on his own desk—that was an old wooden table at the other end of the warehouse, its surface piled with various messy receipts, as well as a master ledger that was thicker and more worn than the one in Sato Fan’s hands.
“It’s my first day on the job, I was afraid of being late and causing trouble.” Sato Fan quickly stood up reservedly, walked quickly to the table, poured a cup of freshly boiled, steaming hot tea for Old Tanaka, and handed it over with both hands.
“Alright, let’s start working.” Old Tanaka took a stack of densely packed inventory sheets from the drawer and handed them to Sato Fan, instructing in a steady tone, “Today, we’ll start with the inventory check.
Every single item in the warehouse must be checked one by one.
Take this inventory sheet, go through the shelves one by one, and carefully verify the book quantity against the actual stock quantity.
If there are any discrepancies, make sure to note them down; I will tell you how to handle them later.”
Sato Fan received the sheets with both hands and looked down at them carefully.
The sheets neatly listed the names, numbers, and book quantities of various materials, with blank columns left behind specifically for filling in the actual counted numbers; the items were complex but the organization was clear.
“Start the inventory from Area A.” Old Tanaka raised his hand to point at the row of neat shelves on the east side of the warehouse, and said slowly, “Area A stores Kunai and shuriken, Area B is for explosive tags and food pills, Area C is for sealing scrolls and special Ninja tools, and Area D is for various miscellaneous items.
Don’t get them mixed up.”
“This junior understands, I will definitely count carefully.” Sato Fan replied respectfully.
He picked up the sheets and a pen, and walked straight toward the Area A shelves.
The shelves in Area A had six rows, with five layers each.
Kunai and shuriken of various specifications were neatly stacked on the shelves, not messy at all.
standard kunai, weighted Kunai, practice Kunai…
Each type had its own exclusive placement, and each was marked with an exclusive number, arranged meticulously.
He compared the records on the sheets and counted them box by box, very seriously.
standard kunai, the book quantity was listed as 1,200 pieces.
He carefully opened the wooden box and counted them one by one.
When he reached halfway, he stopped, looked up to compare with the number on the sheet, then looked back down at the number of Kunai in the box, and silently calculated in his mind.
The quantity was accurate to the last piece.
He continued to bury his head in the counting.
For the entire morning, he paced back and forth between the shelves of Area A, carefully checking, and counting every box of Kunai and shuriken.
The final result was very “normal”—the book quantity and the actual quantity basically matched, with only minor errors, all within a reasonable range. Get faster updates on g.com.
What exactly did this “reasonable error” mean?
Old Tanaka had explained it to him earlier: for example, with a batch of Kunai, if the ledger said 500 but there were only 498 in the actual count, a difference of two pieces, this was called “wear and tear,” a common and normal phenomenon in the warehouse.
Kunai might be accidentally dropped during transport, accidentally damaged, or perhaps a Ninja forgot to register them after checking them out; as long as the error did not exceed 0.5 percent, there would be no problem at all.
Sato Fan silently noted this key number in his heart: 0.5 percent.
For 1,200 Kunai, a 0.5 percent error meant six pieces.
This meant that he could “reasonably” let six Kunai quietly disappear from the books without arousing anyone’s suspicion or doubt.
But he did not rush to take any action.
Today was his first day on the job, and the first thing he needed to do was to figure out all the rules and details of the warehouse, keep his cool, and proceed step by step.
At noon, Old Tanaka raised his hand to call a halt to the work.
“Let’s eat and take a break.” He picked up his coarse cloth lunch bag, walked to the bluestone steps at the warehouse entrance, sat down, and opened the lunch box lid, which contained a few simple rice balls and a small dish of refreshing pickled radishes.
Sato Fan also took out his own lunch from his backpack—it was a bento that his mother, Sato Umeko, had specially packed for him early in the morning, filled with plump white rice, a piece of tender hamburger meat, and a few pieces of golden, soft, and tender rolled omelet.
He also sat down on the steps, next to Old Tanaka, and quietly prepared to eat.
The two ate in silence for a while.
The warm sunlight spilled onto the open space in front of the warehouse, baking the bluestone slabs on the ground until they were slightly hot.
Under the wall in the distance, a few lazy cats were curled up napping, their tails flicking slowly, full of leisure.
Sato Fan chewed the tender hamburger meat slowly, his mind rapidly organizing his language, brewing an idea he had been planning for a long time.
This idea was something he had thought about over and over in his bed for several nights—to use the Shadow Clone to shorten the tedious working hours and win more free time for himself to practice and improve his strength.
What he wanted to learn was not the forbidden jutsu, Multi Shadow Clone.
Multi Shadow Clone was listed as a dangerous Ninjutsu in the scroll of seals, requiring a massive amount of Chakra, and ordinary people had no chance to come into contact with it.
But the ordinary Shadow Clone was different; it was a B-rank Ninjutsu, and most Chunin and Jonin in Konoha were proficient in this technique.
Sandaime even managed to handle several different matters simultaneously by relying on Shadow Clones.
But the problem was, although the Shadow Clone was not considered top-secret in Konoha, it was not something just anyone could easily learn.
Ninjas from ordinary civilian backgrounds only learned the basic Three Basic Jutsu in the Ninja Academy—Clone Technique, Transformation Technique, and Substitution Technique, plus some shallow Taijutsu and escape techniques.
Shadow Clone?
That was a high-level Ninjutsu that one might only come into contact with after graduating from the Ninja Academy.
Usually, one either had a senior to teach them carefully, or they had to spend a large amount of money to buy a Ninjutsu scroll to learn it.
Right now, he had two paths to choose from: one was to take Old Tanaka Kazuhiko as his master and ask him for guidance.
This old man was a retired Jonin in his early years, so he must know the Shadow Clone by heart; the second was to save money to buy a scroll, but he was currently tight on money, and his funds were far from enough.
Obviously, the first path was faster, and more importantly, it could save a large sum of money.
But he needed a reasonable and justifiable excuse; he must not let Old Tanaka detect that he had “ulterior motives.”
“Senior Tanaka.” Sato Fan deliberated for a long time before finally speaking softly, breaking the silence.
“Hmm?” Old Tanaka lowered his head to bite the rice ball, not even raising his head, and responded vaguely.
“This junior has a question and would like to venture to ask for your advice.” Sato Fan’s tone was sincere, carrying a bit of respect from a junior to a senior.
“Go ahead.” Old Tanaka continued to bury his head in his meal, his tone calm, without any impatience.
“I wonder, Senior…
do you know the Shadow Clone?” Sato Fan asked cautiously, with a hint of expectation in his eyes.
Old Tanaka’s action of chewing the rice ball stopped abruptly.
He slowly turned his head, looked up at Sato Fan beside him, a flash of obvious surprise in his murky eyes, and looked him up and down for a moment.
“Yes.” Sato Fan nodded solemnly, the expression on his face captured just right—his eyes were sincere but not impatient.
“Captain Kusakabe said that my temperament is steady and suitable for logistics work, and I also feel from the bottom of my heart that this logistics job is very good.
But I have thought about it carefully; what if the warehouse is suddenly attacked by enemies one day?
I can’t be without any ability to protect myself.
As you can see, Senior, my current foundation in Taijutsu and Ninjutsu is truly too weak.”
He paused, a look of enthusiasm and simplicity appearing on his face, and continued: “I want to learn the Shadow Clone.
Firstly, I’m thinking that if I really encounter danger in the future, I can create a Shadow Clone to hold off the enemy and take the opportunity to escape and protect myself; secondly, I’m also thinking that if work is busy, I can use the Shadow Clone to share more of the workload so that you, Senior, can rest more and don’t have to work too hard.”
Old Tanaka stared at him silently for several seconds before slowly swallowing the rice ball in his mouth, picking up his teacup to take a sip of water, his expression still showing neither joy nor anger.
“The Shadow Clone is not something that can be learned overnight.
If your Chakra control is not up to par, you won’t even be able to create a clone.” Old Tanaka reminded him in a calm tone.
“This junior understands.
I’m not in a hurry and am willing to learn slowly, even if it takes a lot of time.” Sato Fan replied quickly, his attitude very earnest.
Old Tanaka was silent for a moment, finished the last bite of his rice ball, raised his hand to pat off the rice grains stuck to his hands, stood up, and said faintly: “Fine.”
“After finishing the work at hand this afternoon, I will teach you.”
Sato Fan was instantly overjoyed, but he dared not show it on his face at all.
He just pretended to heave a sigh of relief and bowed deeply to Old Tanaka: “Thank you, Senior Tanaka, for your willingness to teach me.
This junior is extremely grateful!”
“Don’t be in such a hurry to thank me.” Old Tanaka packed up his lunch box, waved his hand, his tone casual, “If you are clumsy and can’t learn it, don’t blame me for not teaching you properly.”
The afternoon work was still inventory counting.
Sato Fan calmed his heart and went through the materials in Area B and Area C one by one—explosive tags, food pills, sealing scrolls—carefully verifying the quantities, checking expiration dates, and confirming whether the storage conditions were compliant.
The storage of explosive tags had extremely strict requirements; they must be moisture-proof, heat-proof, and protected from squeezing.
Each box of explosive tags was sealed in a special waterproof bag, with a clear label on the bag indicating the grade, quantity, and date of entry into storage.
Sato Fan carefully opened a box of D-grade explosive tags and pulled out a few to check.
Although the paper was slightly yellowed, the jutsu formulas on them were still clear and neat, obviously still usable.
He silently noted the precise location and inventory quantity of this box of explosive tags.
The shelf life of food pills was one year.
In the corner of the shelf, he saw a few boxes of food pills that were about to expire in one month, with the words “Pending Disposal” clearly written on the labels.
Old Tanaka mentioned in passing that these expired materials would be uniformly processed at the end of the month.
The word “processed” quietly lit up in Sato Fan’s heart again, giving him something more to think about.
But he still did not show any abnormality, just honestly writing down the actual counted numbers on the sheet, then carefully putting the boxes back in their original places, behaving himself throughout the whole process, without any deviation.
At 4:00 PM, the inventory work was basically completed.
Sato Fan handed the organized sheets to Old Tanaka with both hands.
Old Tanaka took them, flipped through them, and after verifying they were correct, picked up his pen and signed his name at the end of the sheets.
“You did quite well.
You didn’t find any big problems all day, and you were quite careful.” Old Tanaka closed the sheets, his tone carrying a bit of approval.
“Tomorrow, continue to check the miscellaneous items in Area D, and then we will start learning the procedures for material storage and retrieval.
Take it slow.”
“Okay, this junior will follow Senior’s arrangements.” Sato Fan replied respectfully.
Sato Fan sighed inwardly: He never expected that in his previous life, he was just an ordinary person, but in this life, he actually became a logistics “civil servant” for Konoha, and one in charge of military supplies at that.
This stability was truly rare.