Across all nations, nearly every major city-state has a ninja black market—a hub for buying and selling ninjutsu, intelligence, and ninja tools.
Morkel walked through the dimly lit streets of a small town, heading toward the black market. He needed to restock on secret talismans and kunai. The village provided each ninja with only five standard secret talismans, which, while sufficient, were far from enough for someone like him. He planned to buy several hundred and use them freely in battle when necessary.
As he strolled, Morkel suddenly stopped, lowering a kunai engraved with the Flying Thunder God seal.
"What's your purpose in following me for so long?" he asked calmly.
From the shadows, a hooded figure in a black robe stepped into the dim light.
"Join us."
Morkel raised an eyebrow. "And by 'us,' you mean?"
"Orochimaru."
Morkel turned fully to face the stranger. Thanks to his refined chakra perception, he immediately recognized the voice. It was Yakushi Kabuto, the suspicious candidate from the Chūnin Exams who had withdrawn unexpectedly. Later, during the Chūnin Rebellion, Kabuto openly assisted the Sand Shinobi in attacking Konoha. Morkel had no fondness for him.
"Orochimaru has a deep fascination with ninjutsu and a grudge against Konoha," Kabuto said, twirling a kunai between his fingers. "Someone like you, so talented, must feel the limits of ordinary ninjutsu. That's why Lord Orochimaru sent me with an offer—eternal life."
Morkel frowned. He had no interest in such an offer. Immortality was something the elderly and desperate longed for, not a thirteen-year-old boy.
Seeing Morkel's lack of enthusiasm, Kabuto hesitated before adding, "What about a hundred million copper coins?"
Morkel laughed. "That's more interesting. But you don't have that, do you?"
Kabuto remained silent. Otogakure was a new village with limited financial resources, struggling to fund Orochimaru's experiments. Seeing this, Morkel waved dismissively. "Boring. If you're broke, don't try recruiting people."
Kabuto was left speechless. He had never been rejected due to a lack of funds before.
Morkel sighed. "It's a pity you're not on Konoha's bounty list. Otherwise, I'd capture you for a reward."
Kabuto's expression darkened. He hadn't expected to be spared simply because he wasn't worth any money.
"Think about the offer," Kabuto said. "You have three years. If you ever change your mind, come to the Sound Village. Konoha won't be able to hold onto you forever."
With that, he vanished.
Morkel shook his head, uninterested in the encounter, and continued toward the black market. There, he stocked up on kunai, magic talismans, and ninjutsu scrolls. However, after just thirty minutes, half of his money was gone, and he still had more to buy.
One thing was clear—he needed a better weapon. Kunai were small and inconvenient in physical combat. So, he purchased a variety of weapons—broadswords, short swords, spears, and katanas—all stored within a summoning scroll.
Two hours later, Morkel left the black market clad in armor, a short sword strapped to his waist, and a scroll hanging from his back. But as soon as he stepped onto the street, he sensed a shift in the atmosphere. More than a dozen strong chakra signatures lurked nearby—an unmistakable sign of a coordinated mission.
A shuriken suddenly flew at him, aiming for his forehead.
"Clang!"
Morkel deflected it with his short sword.
He wasn't surprised. Given his rising reputation and the numerous assassination attempts he'd faced, it was inevitable.
Realizing he was outnumbered, Morkel decided to call for help using the Flying Thunder God Technique.
Inside the Kabuki Theater…
Jiraiya lounged, surrounded by women, flushed with laughter and sake.
Suddenly, Morkel teleported in—directly onto Jiraiya's lap, pushing aside the girl who had been there. The two locked eyes, the air heavy with awkwardness.
Jiraiya snapped. "Morkel! I told you to enjoy yourself, not interrupt me! And what's with that outfit? It's not wartime, why are you so flashy?"
Morkel countered, "You said you were gathering intelligence. Is this what you meant?"
Jiraiya scoffed. "You wouldn't understand. Anyway, got any money? Lend me 10,000 yen."
Morkel sighed. "Master, you're over fifty. Shouldn't you have your own money?"
Jiraiya looked away. "Of course, I do! I'm just making sure you don't waste yours."
"I don't have any left," Morkel replied. "I spent it all on ninja tools. Also, I was attacked."
Jiraiya sobered up. "Attacked? How many? Which village?"
"I don't know," Morkel admitted. "But I withdrew to avoid unnecessary risks."
Jiraiya nodded. "Good call. They won't give up easily. Stay alert."
With that, Jiraiya returned to his indulgences, unconcerned. He knew that ordinary assassins were just stepping stones for Morkel's growth.
Morkel sighed and teleported to Naruto's side, just in case he was also a target.
Naruto, buying octopus balls, blinked at Morkel's outfit. "Whoa, are you going to war? That armor looks awesome! Can I get one?"
Morkel unsealed a scroll and handed Naruto a matching set.
Naruto beamed. "You're the best, Morkel!" He put it on immediately, ignoring the stares from passersby.
Meanwhile, hidden assassins watched.
"Captain, do they really think armor will protect them?" one ninja scoffed.
"Don't underestimate him," another cautioned. "A thirteen-year-old with Senjutsu and Wood Style isn't naive."
Their leader sighed. "He's a threat to our village. He must be eliminated."
The assassins moved into position. As Morkel and Naruto reached the outskirts of town, a barrier suddenly encased them—Four Thunder Sealing Formation!
Lightning crackled within the space, paralyzing them.
One assassin smirked. "They're trapped. This formation blocks ninjutsu and space-time techniques."
But as the assassins moved in for the kill, something was off. Morkel and Naruto—paralyzed inside—suddenly turned to wood!
"A Wood Clone?!" the captain gasped.
"Too late," a voice called.
"Wood Style: Wood Dragon Jutsu!"
A massive wooden dragon crashed through the forest, scattering the assassins.
Morkel emerged, clapping his hands. "Wood Style: Wooden Golem Jutsu!"
A towering 50-meter Wooden Golem rose behind him.
Standing atop it, Morkel and Naruto loomed over their attackers.
The assassins panicked.
"He's inherited the power of the First Hokage," one whispered. "We can't win."
Their captain clenched his teeth. "Retreat! We can't handle this!"
Morkel controlled the golem, closing in. His power had reached a level where even elite assassins were nothing more than practice.
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