Konoha: The Absolute Justice of the Uchiha.

Chapter 488 Three Hundred Gold Coins?

"That's right." Chi Quan nodded. "The round trip is expected to take six to seven days."

The entire route was within the safe trade corridor designated by the two countries, with no enemy ninja patrols or blockades, and no planned battle encounters.

According to regulations, this purely non-combat transnational document handover is classified as a top-level D-class immigration mission, which can also be seen as a long-distance military training exercise.

Lu's earlier frustration vanished instantly, replaced by excitement as he jumped up and down twice: "Out of the village! As long as we can cross borders and get out of the village! Who cares if it's a D-level or C-level? At least we won't have to smell the dirt and formaldehyde from the training ground every day!"

Black Crow looked at the route map on the scroll and said in a low voice, "Teacher, the direction from the Land of Wind cuts in from the northern edge of the Land of Rivers. The terrain will rapidly transition from temperate forests to wind-eroded rocky lands and barren deserts."

The daily temperature range is extremely large, and the relative humidity will drop below 20%.

Chi Quan gave Black Crow an approving look: "Very good, environmental adaptation is the first step in physiology."

You have one hour to go back and prepare your equipment.

In addition to standard ninja tools, each person must carry at least a two-liter windproof and leak-proof water bag, a three-day supply of oral rehydration salt powder, a high-density windproof and sandproof face towel, and eye drops to lubricate the cornea.

Chi Quan pushed up his glasses, his gaze becoming stern: "If anyone develops conjunctivitis or dehydration in the Gobi Desert because they haven't taken precautions against sandstorms, I will immediately rate their performance evaluation as unsatisfactory."

Do you understand?

"Understood!!" the three replied loudly, their backs straight.

Nine o'clock in the morning, at the main gate of Konoha Village.

Beneath the massive wooden archway, the two Chunin guards examined the exit permit and mission scroll in Ikezumi's hands and stamped them with bright red exit seals.

"Ikezumi, Special Jonin, have a safe journey."

Recently, due to the onset of winter, there have been more vagrants and scattered bandits in the border area than usual. Although they are all ordinary desperados who can't be brought up in public, it's still better to be a little careful with three recent graduates." The Chunin on duty handed the scroll back to Ikezumi, offering a friendly reminder.

Chi Quan took the scroll and tucked it into the lining of his trench coat, nodding slightly: "Thank you for the reminder."

We will proceed according to the designated route.

The moment I stepped out of the gates of Konoha, the crisp, dry autumn morning breeze rushed towards me.

The straight official road stretches towards the distant mountains and forests, with red maple and ginkgo trees rustling in the wind on both sides. Occasionally, oxcarts and caravans laden with goods slowly pass by, the copper bells on the cart shafts ringing out a clear and melodious sound.

"Let's go!!"

Lu carried a bulging tactical backpack, his hands on his hips, and strode confidently toward the official road, looking as spirited as a general who had just achieved great military exploits.

Hui Mei followed closely behind, a light smile on her fair face, her steps light and rhythmic.

She had already put a wide-brimmed straw hat on her head, and the first aid kit at her waist swayed slightly with her steps as she walked without making a sound.

Black Crow lagged behind by half a body length, walking on the left edge of the group.

His eyes calmly swept over the trees and bushes on both sides of the road, his ears trembling slightly as he instinctively filtered the sounds of the wind, birdsong, and falling leaves in the forest.

Chi Quan walked in the very center of the four.

His wooden cane tapped lightly on the hard loess road every two steps, the rhythm as steady as a precise pendulum.

"Lu, slow down your pace." Chi Quan's calm voice sounded behind Lu.

Lu paused for a moment, then turned around: "Huh? Teacher, aren't we in a hurry? Wouldn't it be faster to run a little further while we're still energetic in the morning?"

"A long march is not a sprint." Chi Quan did not stop, his expression calm. "Your current pace is 110 steps per minute, and your stride is over 75 centimeters."

This walking style requires your tibialis anterior muscles in your lower leg to continuously perform eccentric contractions. You may not feel it on a smooth road, but after three hours, your arch and heel ligaments will be severely fatigued.

Reduce your stride frequency to 95, shorten your stride to less than 60 centimeters, use your gluteus maximus to drive your thighs, and reduce unnecessary pushing off the ground with your calves.

Lu stuck out his tongue, slowed his pace, and muttered under his breath, "Even the size of my steps is controlled—Truly worthy of being Teacher Chi Quan."

"Do as the teacher says, Lu," Huimei chuckled from the side. "Have you forgotten how miserable you were last week at the training ground? You took too big a step, and the next day you had plantar fasciitis and couldn't even get your shoes on?"

Lu shrank back and became completely obedient.

Two days passed quickly during the steady and monotonous march.

Just as Chi Quan had predicted, the surrounding scenery changed dramatically as the group ventured deeper into the northwest.

The dense, humid forests of the Land of Fire were gradually replaced by sparse, low shrubs and locust trees.

The fertile, dark brown soil on the surface slowly turned into dry, cracked loess, and then into an endless expanse of gravel Gobi.

The wind grew rougher, carrying acrid yellow sand that howled between the bare rock pillars and the dried-up riverbed.

The last trace of moisture in the air was mercilessly sucked away, and with each breath, a slight dryness came from deep in the throat.

The afternoon of the third day.

At the entrance to a towering, wind-eroded red rock canyon.

The four people were slowly moving forward against the howling sandstorm.

Lu Hehui's face was covered with a thick, high-density black windproof mask, and her head was covered with a wide-brimmed cloak, leaving only her eyes exposed.

Black Crow also pulled up its collar, making it seem as if it had blended into the surrounding gray-yellow rock walls.

"Pah—Pah!"

Lu tugged at the corner of his towel, spat out a mouthful of saliva mixed with sand, and squinted at the shadow of the canyon distorted in the heatwave ahead: "Teacher, there isn't even a decent tree to be seen in this lousy place, and the wind blows like knives cutting your face."

How far are we from that White Stone outpost?

Huimei untied the water pouch from her waist, carefully took a small sip of water to moisten her chapped lips, and then took out a map to compare with the landmarks in the distance: "After passing through Yellowstone Canyon ahead, and walking for about twenty kilometers, we will see the border marker between the two countries."

If all goes well, we should be able to get to the outpost and have some hot soup before this evening.

The black crow suddenly stopped.

He didn't look at the map, but suddenly raised his head. His black eyes, hidden in the shadow of his hood, narrowed abruptly, and his gaze, like that of a hawk, pierced through the howling sand and dust, reaching deep into the canyon.

"What's wrong, Black Crow?" Huimei immediately noticed something was wrong, and her hand instinctively moved down to the buckle of the ninja tool pouch at her waist.

Lu also dropped his playful expression and listened intently: "Is there any noise? Apart from this ghostly wind, I haven't heard anything."

"It's not a sound."

Black Crow's voice came through the face mask, low and tense: "It's a scent."

Chi Quan stopped in his tracks, his wooden cane standing quietly in front of him.

He didn't speak, but simply pushed up his glasses and calmly looked towards the canyon.

"The smell?" Lu sniffed, taking a deep breath. "Besides the smell of loess and dry stones, what else is there?"

"It smells like rust." Black Crow lowered his body, his center of gravity slowly sinking. "Mixed with the burnt smell of burning fabric, and—the smell of fresh blood."

The wind is blowing from the northwest, and it's no more than 800 meters away.

Upon hearing the words "smell of blood," Riku and Huimei's expression instantly shifted from exhaustion to extreme seriousness.

The rigorous anatomy and practical simulations of the past month have given them an almost muscle-memory-like sensitivity to various physiological indicators of the human body.

They knew perfectly well what kind of blood loss was involved if the smell of blood could be carried 800 meters away by the wind.

"Teacher—" Huimei turned her head and looked at Chi Quan.

Chi Quan remained calm and composed, one hand resting on his cane, his tone as steady and unhurried as ever: "Mission Rule Number Twelve."

During non-combat D-rank missions, if unconfirmed emergencies occur, the team leader, a Jonin, and a Genin squad have the right to take evasive action.

We can choose to bypass this canyon and travel an additional 15 kilometers along the rocky beach on the east side to safely reach the White Stone outpost.

Lu paused for a moment, looked down at the worn tips of his shoes, then looked up at the faintly rising eaves deep in the canyon.

Faint black smoke.

"Taking a 15-kilometer detour—that will take at least three more hours," Lu gritted his teeth and said in a low voice. "And the smoke won't last more than ten minutes."

If it were a caravan or ordinary civilians who were attacked—by the time we get around them, the people inside would probably be dead already.

Hui Mei clenched her fists and looked at Chi Quan with a determined gaze: "Teacher Chi Quan, it is also written in the border rules that during the peace agreement period, Konoha ninjas have an obligation to assist in clearing malign threats on the regular trade routes between the two countries."

We can't just pretend we didn't see it and walk past.

Black Crow didn't speak, but silently placed his left hand on the hilt of the short sword and took a barely perceptible half-step forward to protect Huimei's flank.

Chi Quan looked at the three resolute teenagers in front of him, a faint glint flashing in his eyes behind his glasses, but his voice remained completely devoid of emotion.

"I reiterate two points."

Chi Quan extended two fingers.

"First, as the Jonin leading this D-rank mission, my responsibility is to ensure your basic survival."

I will not intervene or provide any tactical guidance until you make a fatal misjudgment.

"Secondly, once you decide to get involved, what was originally a risk-free Class D pickup mission will instantly escalate into a real-world encounter full of uncertainties."

The number, capabilities, and objectives of the enemy are completely unknown.

Any mistake made out of impulse will have its physical consequences borne by your own body.

Chi Quan lowered his finger and glanced at the three of them: "Even so, you still decided to go?"

"It's decided!" The three answered in unison without any hesitation.

"Very good." Chi Quan took half a step back, disappearing into the shadow of a tall red rock at the entrance of the canyon. "Tactical simulation, environmental utilization, target control, all are decisions you make yourself."

Go ahead.

The terrain inside Yellowstone Canyon is extremely rugged.

On both sides are dark red cliffs, tens of meters high, with their surfaces pitted and uneven from wind and sand erosion. The sky above is compressed into a thin blue line by the narrow crevice in the rock.

A fierce wind swept through the narrow canyon, whistling sharply like a sob, scattering loose stones from the ground in all directions.

On a sheltered flat area in a recessed valley, acrid black smoke billowed from the wreckage of two overturned wooden wagons.

Silk, dry rations, and porcelain shards were scattered all over the carriage floor, soaked in a pool of dark red blood.

The two ponies pulling the cart lay in a pool of blood, their throats brutally cut open, their limbs still twitching occasionally.

Beside the carriage, three well-dressed but dusty merchants were bound hand and foot with thick hemp ropes, kneeling desperately on the cold, gravelly ground.

In front of them, a boy of about ten years old was pinned to the ground, a rusty broadsword pressed against the boy's tender neck, leaving a thin, bleeding mark.

"Please! Please, gentlemen!"

The middle-aged merchant, kneeling on the ground, kowtowed desperately, his forehead a bloody mess, crying out in a piercing voice, "The goods—all the goods are yours! There are three hundred gold coins in the hidden compartment under the carriage seat! You can have them all! Release my son! Please, please release my son! He's only ten years old!"

"Shut up, you old geezer!"

A bald, burly man standing on the wreckage of a carriage, his chest exposed, spat and stomped hard on the back of the middle-aged merchant, causing him to cough up blood.

The burly man wore a rough animal bone necklace around his neck, a hideous scar ran across his right cheek, and he carried a...

A heavy, thick-backed horse-slaying sword.

On his forehead was a headband covered in scratches, symbolizing Amegakure. The headband was completely severed in the center by a deep horizontal scratch.

A rogue ninja from Amegakure!

"Three hundred gold coins? You think you can give a beggar a hand?" The bald, burly man grinned maliciously, using the tip of his knife to lift the middle-aged merchant's chin. "I've been squatting in this godforsaken Gobi Desert for half a month, finally managing to intercept a caravan of fat sheep. You think a few hundred gold coins can buy your life? Hand over all the silver notes you're hiding on you and the seal of your bank in the Fire Kingdom! If you miss a single word, I'll chop off this brat's hand right now!"

There were four other figures scattered around the bald, muscular man.

Two slender ninjas, dressed in dark yellow trench coats, were squatting beside the wreckage of a carriage, searching for valuables. Short blades and blowpipes were tucked into their waistbands.

The other two guarded the only escape route in the canyon, one on each side, holding shuriken made of fine steel in their hands. Their eyes swept around with a sinister look, and their movements were extremely efficient. They were obviously desperate criminals who had been drinking blood on the edge of a knife in the black market and the wilderness for many years.

Five rogue ninja bandits with the strength of Chunin or elite Genin!

At this moment, at the top of a natural wind-eroded cave about forty meters away from the carriage.

Three figures were pressed tightly against the dry, cold rock surface, perfectly concealed in the shadows by the help of a few withered locust branches.