Chapter 11: The Blood Gate's Shadow
Upon entering the main hall, Ryouma saw only two people inside. One, seated on a lavish chair sipping tea, was clearly a merchant based on his attire. Standing behind him was a masked ninja wearing a Sunagakure forehead protector, whose bearing was anything but ordinary.
A Jōnin? The question popped into Ryouma's mind.
When this Jōnin, known as Vulture, saw Ryouma's group enter—and especially after spotting Kurenai—his expression turned grim.
Vulture was a Special Jōnin from Sunagakure. His mission, per his client's request, was to provide security for a tea ceremony. It had seemed straightforward, with generous pay, so he'd taken it. The preceding days had been completely uneventful, lulling him into a sense of complacency.
But upon arriving at the venue and realizing every merchant had ninja bodyguards, a sense of foreboding had begun to coil in his gut.
Seeing Kurenai's team—a clear configuration of one Jōnin and three Genin—that foreboding had solidified into a cold, hard knot of dread. He felt utterly deceived.
"Mr. Rinka," Vulture's voice was icy, disregarding the others present, "the mission level this time does not seem to match what you advertised."
"Oh? What do you mean, Mr. Vulture?" Rinka, Vulture's employer, was inwardly startled but maintained a calm facade.
Everyone in the room, except for Hinata and Kiba who were still oblivious, frowned upon hearing Vulture's words.
"Hah," Vulture scoffed. "Every single person here has a ninja guard, and there's no friction between any of you. This pattern can only mean one thing: you're all expecting interference from an external force—a powerful one, likely other ninja! Am I wrong?"
"This…"
Both Rinka and Trump fell into an uncomfortable silence. Reizan Ichi, however, frowned and asked, "What is the exact nature of the mission they posted? Could it be that…"
The old man seemed to piece it together and let out a dry, humorless laugh. "You youngsters... I really don't know what to say. You truly value money over your lives!"
"Old man, you can't say that," Rinka retorted. "No one knows the true strength of the Blood Gate. It doesn't hurt to be over-prepared. If we lose…"
"Suit yourselves, haha…" Reizan Ichi shook his head. "I'm old and have nothing left to fear. The future belongs to you, not me." With a final, cryptic smile, he turned and walked out.
"Mr. Trump," Kurenai interjected, her brow furrowed, "I believe you owe us an explanation. If the mission parameters have changed beyond our initial agreement, we are under no obligation to continue."
Trump's stout frame seemed to deflate. He sank into a chair with a bitter smile. "It seems… hoarding wealth really is a curse!"
"This is what happened…" Trump began to explain. Rinka made a move to stop him, but one look at the stony faces of Vulture and Kurenai told him it would be futile.
"Five days ago, while the major merchant guilds were planning this ceremony, a slip of paper floated into our meeting room. At first, no one paid it any mind; it was tossed aside as scrap."
"But… the person who threw it away… he burst into a cloud of blood mist!"
As Trump spoke, he seemed to be reliving the scene. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead.
"Then, the blood mist coalesced into a man clad in black. He told us… that on the day of the tea ceremony, we would all die…"
"Is this person the 'Blood Gate' you mentioned earlier?" Ryouma cut in abruptly.
Trump nodded, his face pale. "Yes. He claimed to be a member of the Blood Gate. He also said we were free to hire ninja for protection. However… if anyone dares to be absent or tries to flee… they will be killed beforehand… along with their entire family."
On a tree branch outside the mansion, a figure in black seemed to materialize from thin air. His eyes held a vacant, misty quality. Then, he began to laugh—a low, crazed chuckle. His blood-red eyes emitted a faint, sinister glow.
"So, you're talking about me, are you? Hehe… It's almost time… almost time… The blood in my body, be patient… I will sate you soon… Hehehe… hehehehe!"
"I think… this matter seems to have reached its conclusion," Kurenai said, her voice firm.
"What?!" Trump looked up, alarmed.
"If you need us to stay, it will require significantly more money. Name your price, and I will do my best to meet it," Trump pleaded, clasping his hands together. "Please! For the sake of the time we've spent together these past few days!"
Kurenai looked conflicted. "But… I have no intelligence on this 'Blood Gate.' I don't know if we're strong enough to face them…"
"I know something about the Blood Gate," Vulture interjected, his expression darkening further at the name. "It's an organization composed of five members. Their numbers are few—the leader included, there might only be five, or perhaps even fewer now. But they are… formidably powerful."
"How powerful?" Kurenai pressed, her tone grave.
"Not long ago, one of them fought against the demigod of the ninja world, Hanzo of the Salamander… and only one of them died. The survivor escaped from Hanzo himself."
"What?! The one who fought Hanzo not long ago was from the Blood Gate?!" Kurenai, who had been relatively composed, now felt a chill run down her spine. She knew all too well how powerful Hanzo was—a ninja so strong he was revered as a demigod, a man who single-handedly supported an entire hidden village!
"Yes," Vulture confirmed grimly. "I was in the vicinity during their battle. I witnessed much of it."
Kurenai frowned deeply, then turned back to Trump. "I'm sorry, Mr. Trump. We truly cannot—"
"Well now, what kind of commission is so unacceptable?" A boisterous, somewhat lecherous voice rang out from the doorway. A man with wild, silver hair and a distinctly unheroic demeanor strode in, casually slinging the unconscious body of a black-clad man from his shoulder onto the floor. He was accompanied by another, pale-faced tea merchant. "With this immortal here, there's nothing to fear!"
"Huh? You… you are…?" Kurenai stared at the newcomer, her initial shock giving way to dawning recognition. A name was on the tip of her tongue.
"That's right! I am the dashing, peerless, and universally adored sage, the one and only Jiraiya-sama!"