Chapter 47: Submitting the Manuscript!

“Yahiko, where are you planning to take them?” Bai Mu asked awkwardly, gesturing at the group of girls behind him.

He could easily imagine what had happened last night. For the sake of that elusive red envelope, under Yuba’s guidance, the three of them had gone to the Dance Pavilion. The madam had immediately arranged for the youngest and prettiest girls to entertain them.

Having grown used to the repulsive and ugly men of Nameless Town, the sudden arrival of two handsome young men caused all the girls to flock around them, vying for attention.

Once Yahiko realized what was going on, he managed to persuade the girls with his silver tongue, enlightening them about the meaning of their lives. That was how this scene came to be today.

“They are free now; they can go wherever they wish...” Yahiko hadn’t even finished his sentence.

“We want to follow Yahiko!” the girls clamored, crowding around him.

Konan’s expression darkened, a hint of jealousy showing. She would have preferred to settle them in some small town in the Land of Fire, allowing them to live peaceful lives, rather than bringing them back to the base.

“Men and women working together makes things easier. If they join Akatsuki’s logistics, perhaps the boys will be even more motivated,” Bai Mu added, clearly enjoying the chaos.

“We can sew and cook too!” the girls exclaimed, even more excited.

“Alright then... Once we’ve finished our business, we’ll take you back with us,” Yahiko replied, his face tinged with red.

“By the way... that bet just now, I won.” Bai Mu nudged Yuba with his elbow.

“Damn it... Is this kid really that persuasive? I don’t buy it.” Yuba rubbed his bald head and walked up to Yahiko. “Hey, kid, do you really think you can inspire the Demigod again? Do you really think you can bring prosperity to the Land of Rain?”

“Absolutely. This is the will of Akatsuki. We all have suffered the pain of war—how can we allow that pain to continue? We are willing to burn ourselves out so the people of the Land of Rain will no longer suffer in the cold...” Yahiko’s lips moved rapidly, his speech so long-winded it might as well omit ten thousand words.

“...I’m willing to join Akatsuki and return to Amegakure to serve the village once more.” Yuba seemed to be a changed man.

“Uh...” Bai Mu’s mouth fell open, stunned into silence.

“Welcome home!” Yahiko was delighted. An elite jonin from his own village—even if his strength had waned from despair—would make a more than adequate instructor upon their return.

...

With that episode concluded, Yahiko let the girls find themselves a place to stay for now; they still had business to attend to.

The Exchange House was the very heart of Nameless Town, with all buildings constructed around it. Any truly capable mercenary ninja would gather here. Those who preferred to loiter in taverns were either those without much skill or have given up on life, like Yuba, who traded his sword for a drink.

The building was made of black limestone, giving it a stern and austere appearance. The main hall was enormous, but only a few dozen rogue ninja gathered in small groups, making the space seem empty and quiet.

“This isn’t quite what I imagined,” Bai Mu said, glancing around.

“What did you expect, kid?” Yuba sneered.

“Shouldn’t it be noisy, people yelling and greeting each other’s families, like a market?” Bai Mu was reminded of the guilds in Fairy Tail.

“If you’re a mercenary ninja, you have to be prepared to turn your back on everyone. We’ve all abandoned our morals for money—how many can genuinely trust each other? Who knows if your so-called comrade won’t stab you in the back the moment you step outside.” Yuba snorted coldly.

“What are those two doing? That hand sign sequence is so complicated.” Bai Mu pointed at two middle-aged men in the corner, their hands moving at lightning speed.

“They’re the Mute Brothers, arguing using sign language.” Yuba sneered.

“...That’s supposed to be sign language? If they used those hand signs for jutsu, wouldn’t they be invincible?” Bai Mu watched as their hands blurred, easily more than ten signs a second.

“They’re famous for their speed with hand seals—the Ninjutsu Brothers. They can perform a forty-four sign Water Dragon Bullet in the blink of an eye. They’re resident S-class mercenaries in our town.”

“Abba abba!”
“Abba abba!!”

The two men continued their heated, hand-and-mouth combined argument.

“So, what are they fighting about?”

“Who knows? Probably one wants to go drinking, and the other wants to visit the Dance Pavilion.” Yuba shrugged.

...

A massive mission board hung on the wall of the Exchange House, plastered with wanted posters and various commission requests.

Bai Mu glanced up. At the top were the Five Kage, who were almost permanent fixtures on the board, each with a bounty in the hundreds of millions. But no matter how high the bounty, one had to survive to collect it.

Next were important elite ninja from various villages—like Minato Namikaze from Konoha, Kurotsuchi from Iwagakure, Chiyo from Sunagakure—none of whom were easy targets.

These nine-figure bounties served more as warnings: recognize them and stay away, rather than actually encouraging people to try and kill them.

The real mission postings were below, ranging from tens of thousands of ryo for killing an ordinary person, to hundreds of thousands for taking out a casino boss. Bai Mu even noticed a stack of long-term war recruitment orders from Iwagakure—anyone, whether a lone wolf or an organized bandit group, regardless of strength, could sign up.

Naturally, Bai Mu took one of the recruitment notices; after all, his goal for this trip was to join Iwagakure’s ranks.

Nearby was a newspaper section for entertainment, featuring all sorts of publications from across the ninja world, though the news was never quite up-to-date.

Bai Mu picked up a copy of the Konoha Daily. Half the articles praised Minato Namikaze’s unmatched strength and how he had Iwagakure trembling. The other half extolled Orochimaru’s strategic brilliance and Sunagakure’s string of defeats. In short, the Land of Fire was portrayed as being on the verge of victory.

The Iwagakure Daily, in contrast, boasted that their twenty-thousand-strong ninja army could break through the Land of Fire’s defenses at any moment, and that no matter how strong Minato was, he couldn’t turn the tide alone.

But a war can never have two winners; one of these papers was lying.

Even the Exchange House had its own newspaper, the Bounty Daily, filled with everything from medicine advertisements to requests for partners to hunt rogue ninja, from scandalous tales about famous ninja to candid shots of Tsunade’s side profile. The stories were a mix of truth and fiction, even yellow jokes and same-sex matchmaking—chaotic, like the online forums of Bai Mu’s previous life.

“How dull.” Bai Mu glanced at the submissions box, tore off a sheet of blank paper, and with a flourish, wrote an article.

#Shimura Danzo Peeping on Granny Chiyo Bathing Sparks the Third Great Ninja War#

His words were sharp, his pen forceful, the content shocking and every sentence striking to the heart, as if he had witnessed the scene himself.

“If this gets published, I’ll write one every week.” Bai Mu wiped his nose and slipped the manuscript into the box.

He hadn’t forgotten his real business, though, and made his way to the service counter.

The person in charge of the Exchange House was clearly not a savvy businessman; for such a critical frontline position, it was a zombie-faced man rather than a cute young woman.

“Here to take a mission, submit a commission, or register as a mercenary?” the man asked in a gruff, mechanical tone.

“We need to register?” Bai Mu had assumed anyone could just come and pick up missions.

Zombie-face didn’t answer. He was not a tutorial NPC.

“Of course you do! Otherwise, how would they assign you missions? You think you, an E-rank mercenary, can just walk in and get intelligence on S-rank missions?” Yuba explained impatiently.

“In that case, I’ll register as a mercenary ninja,” Bai Mu said to the zombie-faced man.

A form was slapped down on the counter.

The form was extremely simple, not even requiring one’s village of origin or strength. Even just a codename was sufficient for registration.

Codename: Doctor

As expected, Bai Mu filled in only a codename.

“Doctor? You know medical ninjutsu?” Yuba eyed him up and down.

“Heh... I know a little,” Bai Mu replied mysteriously.

After paying the top-tier registration fee of 100,000 ryo, Bai Mu received a black book with red lettering, where he could record mission information. The back contained countless wanted posters, like a photo album, which could be detached and updated at any Exchange House.

Flipping through a few pages, Bai Mu felt the fee was well spent; at least the wanted posters included detailed intel on each ninja’s fighting style and weaknesses.

“Doctor, you are now an E-rank mercenary ninja and can accept up to C-rank missions,” the zombie-faced clerk said, his attitude visibly improved after receiving the fee.

“I want to commission a request, not take a mission.”

“Here’s the application form. Based on the information you provide, the mission will be classified accordingly. Please be honest.” The zombie-face handed him another sheet.

“I heard you can specify a particular ninja?” Bai Mu didn’t fill it out immediately.

“That’s right. Who do you want?”

Bai Mu wrote “Kakuzu” on the paper.

The zombie-face frowned. “Him? He’s extremely powerful and very professional, but he rarely stays at any one Exchange House. He roams the ninja world... Our resident ninja are quite strong too—you could choose the Mute Brothers, for example...”

“No thanks, I want him. Money isn’t an issue.” Bai Mu was amused—did he just hear the clerk praise Kakuzu for his professionalism?

It seemed Kakuzu really took his mercenary work seriously.

“Alright, fill out the form. I’ll contact him as soon as possible.” The zombie-face sighed. This kid was clearly loaded; if the mission went to a local ninja, the funds would keep circulating within the town. But Kakuzu was notorious among mercenaries for being a miser—he spent nothing, only made money, and wherever he went, the Exchange House’s cash flow suffered.

“...I don’t actually have anyone I want dead. Yuba, anyone you want to kill?” Bai Mu twirled his pen, unable to think of a target.

“Damn it! There’s actually a chance like this? That fat pig at Pighead Bar—I’ve wanted him dead for ages. You have no idea how disgusting he is, making buns with human meat. Nearly made me puke my guts out! Damn it, kill him for me!” Yuba’s face twisted in disgust.

“Damn right, he needs to die.” Bai Mu began filling out the form, listing a bounty of three million ryo, certain that Kakuzu would come quickly for such a sum.

“Three million ryo for Pighead’s head?” The zombie-face’s eye twitched; even he was tempted to take this mission.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Bai Mu said, scribbling in the mission notes: Employer requests to observe the entire process.

“All set. Pay, and wait.”

“Make it quick,” Bai Mu replied, obediently handing over the money.